Power Rating: Extremely scaleable. At the center of Caesa's might, a locus where she's gathered all her strength, it can easily reach A+. However, no such locii currently exist. Currently it's somewhere between C and B. May the heavens tremble if she ever reaches full power again.
Description: Adalia's appearance is that of a thin human or elf woman, clothed in animal-skin and a heavy woolen cloak. A deep cowl often hides her face, and as such, she's more commonly described as faceless. Sometimes depicted as a child, sometimes an ancient crone, Adalia's appearance is transient at best. Her face is shaped like a faux-heart, curvaceous and sharp toward the chin. Her hair is ragged and twisted, strung throughout with beads, bracelets, and tiny protective charms. The witch's body is pierced in many places, along her arms and on her face most prominently.
Personality: Adalia is a being out of time, a walking relic of prehistory. As such, she's entirely out of touch with the modern world. Even the 'magic' of this day and age is strange to her. Nevertheless, she has a soft spot for young practitioners, and will try to protect them when she can. A patron of the arts, she seeks to reeducate magi, while trying in turn to learn from them.
Her ways are strange. A willful, arrogant creature, she has a natural air of sovereignty, and often expects homage or sacrifice from mortals in exchange for her favor. She is prone to black moods, and fits of rage or savagery for no apparent reason. Ultimately, she wants to make the world the way it was, or at least the way she remembers it. Primitive, desperate, hard and strong. She, too, is all these things.
Equipment: Adalia has very little in the way of worldly possessions. Aside from the clothes on her back, there are but a few charms and nick-nacks worth noting.
The staff Splinter, a gnarled walking stick with a jagged crack down it's center. The crack seems to pass all the way through, but the staff is in otherwise good shape. At will, a horrid moaning can be issued from the staff, and the crack will begin to widen impossibly. When this occurs, it is said that Adalia possesses spectacular powers over wind. It's also good for carrying things, and supporting the old witch when she feels weak.
Hecate's Curse, a pendant that impedes the use of man-made devices in a large area. Electronics may cease to function entirely.
Some water, in a tiny glass bottle. Adalia has never elaborated on the liquid's origins, but it seems to have the effect of de-aging and wound-healing for mortals when properly applied. It has no affect on her.
An obsidian shard, sharp as it is ugly, bound to a bone handle with leather cord. The handle looks like a child's radial bone. The cleaver is a deadly weapon, and also excellent for preparing food.
Adalia possesses untold might. She can call the sea and sky to her aid, summon a congress of ravens for battle, or rip a man's beating heart from his chest. At her strongest, she alters reality with her mere presence. She is obviously immortal, and ageless to a certain degree.
A Black, Bloody Goddess: Adalia's physical attributes are inhuman. She is unharmed by most mundane weaponry, and will simply shrug off a wide variety of attacks made with what she calls 'new magic'. The witch is abnormally strong and fast to boot. Over mountainous terrain, she has no equal, and can fight along the side of a sheer cliff without much difficulty.
Only Misfires Against Me: Ranged weapons are prone to inaccuracy when aimed at the witch. A ripple in the air, a sigh of wind, and it's as though there was no bullet or bolt to begin with. That isn't to say she's impervious to such attacks - though her defenses are extremely resilient. It takes firepower, or truly stunning speed and skill, to harm her. This power is based in the mind, and after all, few marksmen can match the speed of thought.
A True Master Waits: Though Adalia's most impressive abilities have to do with manipulating the world around her - the animals, the elements, the power of the Nexus itself - her true power is much more subtle. She sends curses or familiars to do her dirty work. She summons visions of the future or past to uncover truths. Charms, potions, sacrifices, hidden doors and dark pacts - Adalia trades in all these things. She's much more dangerous for it, as her own presence in a conflict is often unnecessary. She plays sides, manipulates people to her own ends, or favors some mortals with powerful boons. Thus she achieves allies and victory all at once.
To Bleed the Earth: Due to a long-dead deity's curse, Adalia must consume energy to sustain herself. She's often seen walking through remote valleys, along lonely roads, or across scorched battlegrounds. These places give her a kind of strength. It has been speculated that she draws power from the earth, or parallel versions of the same location in other universes, destroying them utterly in the process. Either way, without visiting these locations regularly (or finding another source of sustenance) she will gradually wither and fade. The light and happiness of the mortal world weakens her, and thus she cannot remain in normal societal conditions for long. It is a wearying existence, at times.
Cursed Iron: As mentioned above, lead or flint cannot wound the witch. But cold iron can. It sears her flesh, and bypasses defensive charms. Certain other weapons or magic can harm her just as easily, but such weaknesses are obscure or vague at best.
The Sacrifice: Though it is not common knowledge, the witch does have other ways of sustaining her cursed existence. Consuming the heart of a sentient being, most favorably a human male, is one such way. She gains a portion of the being's strength, but loses herself in the blood, savaging friend and foe alike in a frenzy of power.
How is this a weakness, one might ask? Aside from the fact that she attacks any living being nearby, her eldritch powers are all but lost in this animal state. Only the physical potency, and perhaps a shred of her victim's powers will remain.
Backstory: From time to time on the Harvest Eve, long before the first scythe is swung, the hill people still whisper of Caesa. Voices hushed, as though the witch might hear, they talk of the age from whence she emerged. They say when the humble Peasant planted the first seed, when He planted life in the earth with a single word, Scae was watching from her mountaintop. When He wound back the elder clock and began the cycle anew, Caesa was among those who turned the hands. She is the mountain queen, eldest of the Rock-born things that rule the high places. She is always there, in every creation myth they know, on every mural or piece of cave-art, sitting in the distance astride a lonely mountaintop. Waiting.
Though the hill people are a superstitious lot, there's some truth to almost every one of their tales. Adalia really did exist, in one form or another, before mortal life began. She had a court, then - spirits and beasts, or Outsiders from the plane of earth. Caesa even collected a few True Men, once the Peasant's wife had borne them into the world. But these things are since lost to time, as is much of her power.
After her downfall, an event of which she will not speak, Caesa weaved herself inside a rock on the plains of a world that would one day become part of the Nexus. That boulder, and others like it, would in a few ages time become the base of a mighty mountain. Some of her servants watch over it still, slaying those who would seek the artifacts Caesa hid near her tomb. She has woke before, always to great strife and conflict, but time will tell when the witch will rise again.
__________________ My avatar was done by Gulaghar. Thanks again!
In a dream I found a place
of rotting meat and eldritch grace
and looked upon his primordial face
and from my thoughts could not erase
that sense of time that sense of space
and my heart the darkness did embrace.
Alias : Altar Gender : Male Race/Species : Human (Resurrected) Age : Looks like in his 24's. Alignment : True Neutral, until certain events changes him. Class/Profession : Traveler Power Rating : He looks E, but his capabilities are C- Description :
Slightly tall, thin build, his face somewhat angular. Wears clothes fit for any type of adventure. Brown-black hair, dark blue eyes.
Having no memory of anything, he's only determined to know his past, and what is his true purpose. He is naive on pretty much everything.
Traveler's clothing, a small backpack, a cloak. Throwing knives and a small dagger.
The ability to nullify physical attacks.
Several hundred years ago, an infamous wizard roam across the lands. Not caring about anything, he takes anything he wants among others. He is known to be very powerful, as he was able to topple an entire army with his powerful magic. Hated by many, they banded a group of wizards and magicians to cast a curse onto him. He was not aware of it, and so he was not prepared for the curse. It was successful, and his body and soul was sealed.
At the present, several individuals wished to resurrect the infamous wizard, to know his secrets and spells. But the process was interrupted, and it was a failure. His body was freed from the curse, but the knowledge he had was not recovered. He is an empty shell. He was discarded by these individuals, like trash. He only has cloak with him, and he wandered off to find a purpose in his life. While walking away, he tries to remember what his past like, but only saw the first moments of his resurrection. An altar in front of him, individuals circled around him, a cave.. He was confused.. why can't he remember anything?
Weeks passed, as he travel the plains, he was attacked by a thief. He was defenseless, as he had nothing to use. But, as the thief attacked, something happened. The thief's knife bounced off the wizard's body, like it hit metal. He attempted to thrust his knife on the man's chest, but yet again it didn't work. After several strikes, he backed away and ran.
After the attack, he had a flashback. He saw himself, studying these unknown books in a dirty room. As he was watching himself studying, his old self took a small dagger from the table's drawer, and tries to cut his left forearm himself with it. As he tried, not a scratch was seen on the forearm. After that, his flashback ended.
He discovered that he had the capability to resist or to nullify a physical attack against him. But for some reason, he did not know how to perform this feat. Perhaps it is his subconscious mind that let him performed it. But he didn't thought about it any longer. He just know he can defend himself now.
As he continues his path, he stumbles across a small group of people in a campfire. They're all travelers, wandering around the plains. They humbly welcomed the man, letting him sit near them. As they talk about their adventures, their stories, their experiences, but one of them asked who he is. Not knowing his name, he called himself the first thing he saw when he
was resurrected. Altar.
Oops. I meant to post here before I started in MaGLoG, but I got distracted. That happens.
Alias: None, although he usually prefers to drop the "n" in his first name
Age: Around 19
Class: Sorcerer (Arcane)
Power Rating: Let's say C+ for now
Description: Around 5' 10," rather thin. His hair is a dark brown, and while rarely combed, it isn't too messy. He prefers to wear something blue, even when not wearing his favorite cloak
Personality: He can be easily irritated, but making him actually angry is more difficult; usually doing so requires insulting or threatening his familiar, who he is very protective of. Still, his good nature means he'll cool down very quickly. Otherwise, he's relatively outgoing, talkative, and does his best to be polite (although his best isn't great). He's very fond of the color blue.
Equipment: His boots and gloves are brown leather. His clothes in general are of good quality but nothing too special. His cloak, however, is finely made and deep blue. It has a minor enchantment to shrug off damage, but it doesn't do too much besides make him feel safer.
He carries a Handy Haversack in the form of a satchel that carries his equipment, which for the most part is standard adventurer gear you'd expect from the party mage. He also has a completely ordinary dagger.
Around his neck or in his bag are a pair of oversized goggles that help him see in the dark despite their mundane (and relatively goofy) appearance. He made them himself, and is proud of it.
Abilities: Jace is a gifted spellcaster, although his talents are mostly in blowing things up, enchantments, and creating magic items. He's decent in most magic he tries, but rarely, if ever, uses Conjuration (or Divination outside of Identification spells), and has never touched Necromancy.
He's also a surprisingly decent musician, specializing in vocals and piano.
Backstory: Raised in a small town, he worked for nearly everyone due to a habit of getting fired for accidentally blowing things up. Caused usually by getting angry at someone for making fun of him/his family for his tendency of blowing things up. Still, all things considered it was surprisingly non-hostile, although those years made him resistant to insults (to himself, at least) and gave him little tolerance for bullies. He left home on good terms to wander after calling his familiar in a forested area near his home. Other companions include an adventuring party that temporarily broke up after a war called several of them home. He has always had a relatively bad sense of direction, and gets lost quickly. Sometimes so bad it's not surprising if he finds himself in another world.
Species: Pocket Dragon
Age: About 4
Description: About seven inches tall, Zebes' scales are best described as the color of a copper-gold alloy, being in between both metals in color. He has small ear-fins which are usually expressive of his mood, a few short spines along his back, and a pair of horns on the back of his head. His snout is slightly round in shape, and his tail ends in a small spade. His wings are of normal proportions, with the membranes being a red-orange.
Personality: Sarcastic and full of snark, but he knows when to shut up. Although chatty, he usually lets Jace talk for him until someone's given permission for him to communicate telepathically, since he can't vocalize any language besides basic Draconic. He's very loyal to his friends, although he's a bit more cynical than Jace and is slower to trust. He likes to make nicknames for people, (he calls Jace "Boss" as a gag because he was told not to call him "Master.") but he usually uses their name when talking directly to them, if he knows it. Despite his small stature, he still considers himself a full-fledged dragon and is proud of his role of a familiar, and therefore is extremely indignant should anyone insinuate or outright call him a pet. Despite what he or Jace say, however, he's never actually bitten anyone's fingers off for using the "p" word.
Equipment: Zebes' only real possessions are the ornament he wears: a small silver breastplate with a rosy quartz set in the middle, which hangs from fine chains between his neck and forelegs; and a small, elegant harmonica
He also sometimes uses one of the wands tucked in Jace's things, but doing so is difficult for him, so he never actually carries one.
Abilities: As a dragon, albeit a tiny one, he can breathe fire for short periods of time in a fashion similar to a blowtorch.
He can communicate telepathically with most intelligent creatures within 100 feet
His nature gives him some magic talent, although this extends only to the use of magic items and the most basic of cantrips.
Backstory: Omitted due to my inability to pick one of the ones I've written.
Misc: Despite whatever it really is, I (and therefore Jacen) pronounce his name "Zeebz" despite the consensus usually being that the word is meant to be pronounced "Zeh-bez." I kept the original spelling, though, because it looks cooler.
Spako by Ceika.
[Sorry Boss, but as always, I get the last word.]
Last edited by LordDeathkeeper : 12-13-2012 at 03:00 AM.
Alias: N/A Gender: Male Race/Species: Human (modified with grafts) Age: 154 (appears 16) Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, leaning heavily towards good. Class/Profession:Xenoalchemist, Doctor Power Rating: Quinsar 4, Neon Knight Rank C-
Yuki appears to be a dark-haired human male around 16 years of age. His typical attire consists of a white suit and pants, with white gloves, occasionally wearing a bowler hat when outside. He also tends to carry around a medium-sized haversack of a soft white polymer base.
Yuki tends to be polite and helpful, and enjoys the feeling of having made someone smile. Strangely, for someone who enjoys helping others, he can get rather embarrassed at any praise beyond a simple "thank you". He is curious, and rather optimistic about the world, trying to see the best in people. He isn't completely sane, though, and will occasionally make odd connections to things completely irrelevant, or contradict himself with his words and actions.
A reinforced monomolecular scalpel, with supernatural enhancements. Can remove most diseases and ailments, as well as cut through most normal materials and (with an appropriately costly and anime-esque sacrifice) such metaphysical things like quantum strings and the space between letters.
A hammerspace haversack, with a vast assortment of various medical tools, ranging from archaic (poultices, herbs, leeches, etc) to highly advanced (MRI scanners, defibrillators, tricorders, etc).
Intimate knowledge of nearly all non-unique anatomies.
Can cut parts off of beings and graft them onto others, retaining most of the functionality of the original.
High dexterity and reaction times.
Grafts (modular, switched with an arbitrary amount of time, depending on complexity (5-60 min))
Offensive Abilities: energy blasts (requires recharge time), retractable tentacles (2, with paralytic slime), nimbus of celestial light
Defensive Abilities: rapid healing, immunity to most diseases and ailments
Sensory Abilities: enhanced base senses, sense magic, see invisible creatures
Other Abilities: winged flight, limited range telepathy
During the exploration of an ancient magic item storage facility, Yuki tripped and fell into a well of many worlds, which brought him into the Nexus. Painfully.
Cerise is a young girl with long hair of a faint turquoise shade. A gown of pale blue covers her translucent body, and her pale grey eyes speak of untold horrors, both done by the hands of others and by her own hands.
Cerise is a shy and often nervous child, stuttering and blushing at even the slightest teasing. Not confident in her own abilities beyond her chosen profession of killing, she often belittles herself, and can be rather apathetic to the suffering of others. This personality clashes strongly with her chosen profession. However, she does finds a perverse joy in death and killing others, but does not do so recklessly, only when paid, or when necessary for survival.
An ethereal box containing various incorporeal equipment.
A glass cup that can be touched by incorporeals like Cerise.
Can manifest a pale green blade of pure soul energy, the power of which fluctuates with her emotions.
Skilled swordfighter and tactician
Backstory: She was killed and reformed as a ghost in a powerful magical location, giving her the ability to manipulate the material world more readily than normal ghosts. However, this also forces her to concentrate completely when she wishes to go entirely immaterial, making it nigh impossible to do anything other than move and talk.
Hikari/Sayuri appears to be a normal girl, with long black hair in two ponytails, and a dark grey cloak. Under this, she is rather thin and frail, with only a homespun tunic and pants to protect her from the elements. When Hikari is in control, her eyes are a deep, warm brown, burning with determination. However, when Sayuri has taken over, they turn a light crystal blue, and twinkle with malicious merriment.
Hikari is a kind person, always
Miscellaneous:To be added when needed
Alias: None Gender: Female Race/Species: Faerie Human Age: 21 Alignment: CN Class/Profession: Sorcerer/Shadowcraft Mage Power Rating:
Description: At first glance, Setsuna appears simply to be a cute little girl, no more than twelve years of age, with long blue hair and sparkling violet eyes. Her clothes consist of a modified blue and white gothic lolita dress, designed more for mobility than appearance, although it still has quite a few frills and adornments.
The most prominent of these is an old blue ribbon, maintained by magic, tied in a bow across her chest. The only other possessions easily visible are a dark violet umbrella, carried tightly in her left hand, and a deceptively small pouch at her waist. Beside her floats a glowing orb of light, slowly pulsing with golden waves.
"She wasn't discouraged nor did she cry at her fate.
She was beautiful.
She didn't fawn anyone and fought them all by herself.
She was noble.
She shined brightly, like a divine figure.
I needed someone like her."
Setsuna wields her unnaturally short stature and the resulting cuteness to devastating effect in social situations, endearing herself where needed, smiling at all the right moments, appearing vulnerable when it would be beneficial to her. She builds up a reputation as an innocent, occasionally insightful girl who means no harm to anyone. This is her public persona.
"The frog in the well was happy.
It wasn't interested what was outside the well.
The frog in the well was happy.
It was recluse to anything that happened outside the well.
And you were happy.
Because you didn't know what occurred outside the well."
Setsuna is a dark, powerful figure, never failing, never caught. She may not have any dedicated followers of her own, but she can create as many as she needs to, and they are utterly loyal. She will send her shadowy children to do any job, no questions asked, provided that she is paid well. This is her shadow persona.
Which is her true self? But that is not the question you should ask... Perhaps the better one would be, are any of them true? And if they aren't, who is? Who is Furude Setsuna?
"At the first time, I do my best to try again
against the inevitable tragedy.
In the second time, I become disgusted
towards the inevitable tragedy.
The third time, disgust is overwhelmed into painfulness.
But by the seventh time, this all becomes a farce comedy."
Setsuna is a broken child, fighting her way through life, clinging to any hope of acknowledgement, even as each breaks away from her.
Her mother figure, the one who named her and gave her magic, is an unknown entity, perhaps even just a figment of her dreams.
Her father figure, who taught her to use her gifts, left seeking a lost treasure of the gods, and she never saw him again.
Her childhood friend, who gave her a brief taste of innocent happiness, journeyed away on a quest to avenge his village and family with her blessing and a blue ribbon, never to return to her.
And her senpai, the one who has given her so much love and care and hope, was exiled from their quest, leaving her alone.
And yet through this agony, she fights. For a better life. For a miracle. A This is her true persona.
"The first thing I remember is a dream. Or at least, I think it was a dream. The time was midnight, and I was lying under a tree, staring at the stars. The ground around me was covered in small shining dewdrops, and strange, bird-like shapes flitted across the deep violet sky. A surreal sight, even more so considering it was my first ever perception of the world. And then a figure came up to me, a tall, incomprehensibly beautiful woman."
"She asked for my name. I told her I didn't have a name. She giggled, and said that everyone had a name. I told her again, I didn't have a name. Then she waved her hand, trailing sparks, across my face. She leaned in close, and said to me: 'Then if you truly have no name, I shall name you. From this moment forth, you are Furude Setsuna.' I blinked at her. A name for me? Furude... Setsuna... I rolled the words across my tongue, savoring the newfound feeling of identity. The woman, whom I am convinced was my mother, smiled at me, and then told me to wake up. I did."
"I lived in a box in an alley, searching for scraps of food to survive, drinking rainwater gathered in a tin pail. There were a few generous souls who would toss me a few coins or give me a slice of bread or two. But these were few and far between. It was a brutal life, filled with hardship and the ever-present gnawing of hunger."
"But then came my first salvation. A fallen archon came to me, dropping from the sky into my hands. His name was Hakkera. He came to me badly injured, having escaped from... something. I know not what it was. I triggered my magic for the first time, and, in a burst of power, infused his being with the shadows that would become my eternal companions. He told me that I had a gift, a wonderful gift to be nurtured into a blazing fire within me. He told me that he would help me do so. He did."
"I ventured forth from my alley, to explore the city and its wonders. I found, on the outskirts, a small orphanage, and I took to watching its inhabitants, wondering how they lived, with scheduled food and water and shelter. After a while, I noticed that one of them seemed to be secluded from the rest. No, not secluded. Shunned. I didn't know why."
"So one day, when I saw him all alone, I hopped the tall stone wall and introduced myself. His name was Rix, and he was a gypsy. And for some reason, that made him less likable than the others. I disagree. He was a very nice boy, and I grew to know him very well. I visited him nearly daily, and for a time, I felt like I had a purpose in life."
"But... all good things must come to an end, and so did this. He told me about how his people were killed, and his desire for vengeance. I supported this, and wanted to help. But he refused adamantly. In the end, I gave him half of my blue ribbon to remember me by, making him promise to return to me. He never did."
"When senpai left me, I really didn't know what to do for a long time. I wandered around, working, trying to keep my mind off of her. It... it was difficult. I did everything I could to find her, using divinations, my various contacts, even petitioning some of the lesser demigods to help. But none of it worked... None of it! For the first time since I had met her, I began to drift back into my shadow persona, my dark side. Even now it threatens to over take me... I don't know how much longer I can keep this up... I have to find her... I... need... to..."
Description: Lisa is a rather short young woman. She has a pair of long rabbit ears on her head. Her has a button nose, somewhat large teeth, and her eyes are a light blue.
During the summer months, her hair is light brown and her skin becomes a tanned colour. During the winter her hair is stark white and her skin is very pale. There is a transition period during Spring and Fall where her skin is somewhere in between the two and her hair is a blend of brown and white.
Personality: She's an overall friendly person, though she's not particularly social. She often prefers to stick with her small group of friends. She has a passion for art and will often dedicate a lot of time to it. However, when it comes to things she doesn't want to do, she can be a bit lazy.
Backstory: Lisa has had a fairly normal life so far. Or at least as normal as it can be when she spent most her life in the Nexus. It was at an early age that her family came to Inside.
Since then she's been attending school as usual since she was old enough. She spent more of her time with her friends Dimi and Am, and with her very large family.
*Ability to manipulate time - don't worry, he can't stop time, go back in the past/future, or anything else too ridiculous. Rather, he creates a bubble around him in which he warps time by slowing it down and speeding his own movements up.
*An expert in wielding a scythe, he can create a downright terrifying whirlwind of sharp metal that can slash and eviscerate even the most staunch opponents
*You need a good defense to protect yourself against powerful foes and because of this Deveric is well-versed in protection magic with spells like magic nullification and melee ward. He isn't trained in healing magic though.
*Illusionary magic - Deveric also possesses the ability to create all sorts of mirages and phantasms that distract, confuse, antagonize, and terrify enemies
*Age acceleration - by grabbing onto a person Deveric is capable of depleting a person's youth and vigor as they begin to rapidly grow older.
*Is immortal in the sense that he can't die from age. He can still be killed through other means though.
Description: Deveric has short platinum blonde hair with amber eyes. He stands at about 6 feet tall and has a powerful, lean body. His skin is mildly tan. See avatar to get an accurate representation of him.
Equipment: Alongside wielding his unique scythe, Deveric wears plate armor underneath a red and ivory cloak with a hood he usually has drawn up. He has several small, unique clocks built into his armor on various parts of the body such as his arms, chest, and boots as well as on his scythe's blade. In addition, Deveric also had a belt of seemingly random keys that allow him into many places.
Personality: As far as personality goes, Deveric is surprisingly charismatic for such a distant-seeming individual. While he generally only talks when it is necessary, he's not a recluse and has nothing against interacting with others. He's also what you might call an unfettered individual, as in he doesn't follow a rigid moral guide in achieving his goals. That's not to say he will go out of his way to harm someone needlessly, rather he doesn't have qualms against it if it proves to be necessary. You wouldn't necessarily know this from speaking to him however, he actually seems to be a generally good person.
Backstory: One of the last of his kind, Deveric was a part of near-extinct group of people who were tasked with guarding time against those who would seek to manipulate it. This organization was also dedicated to stopping people who would drastically alter the universe one way or the other. Righteous Zealots and depraved monsters alike, Deveric made sure that neither extreme emerged victorious. He has since strayed from his duty after somethings happened in his past, yet still tries to uphold his values.
Miscellaneous: Deveric carries the ashes of people close to him who have died.
*Gan has mastered the use of the Naginata and is capable of taking on multiple people in melee combat assuming they're around his power rating.
*Unarmed Expert- Gan Yun doesn't always need to kill however, and in fact prefers to not deal fatal blows unless necessary. He was recognized as one the most effective unarmed combatant according to his temple.
*Fleet Footed- He is quick. Very quick in fact. This allows him to circle strafe his opponents and cause much aggravation when they find that they cannot land a hit on him.
*He is also incredibly acrobatic capable of evading attacks with a breeze and getting out of otherwise difficult situations. His fighting style includes countering and turning one's attacks against them through constant maneuvering and dodging around them.
*Meditation- being a practitioner of his homeland's monk training, Gan has an almost inhuman ability to endure for longer than most. He hardly needs to sleep as he can channel the world's energy field to himself which keeps him going. Minor healing can be done through meditating provided he isn't in combat.
*True Sight- One of his most important assets, Gan's true sight grants him a supernatural intuition which helps him to predict actions and events that will occur in the near future. This has helped him in many a fight, but then again, just because you know what will happen doesn't always mean you can stop it.
Description: Gan Yun has dark hair with bangs hanging down on either side of his face as well as a short pony tail in the back. He wears a blindfold, a cape over his left arm, leather boots, and white/gold clothing familiar to his temple's order. His faint brownish skin would indicate that he is from an Eastern country in a faraway land. As a tribute to his order, he wears a circlet of golden beads around his right arm which symbolizes his status as an effective fighter.
Equipment: Naginata polearm, an unusual emerald with magical properties, coinage from his homeland, some fish for eating, the scarf of the person he killed, and not much else. Monk don't generally carry a whole lot on them to be fair.
Personality: Virtuous, kind, and altruistic, Gan adheres to Buddhist-like philosophies. He believes in a universal karmic system where one may achieve eternal bliss after living a fulfilling and ethical life. He doesn't care about gods or any sort of deity as their existence is irrelevant to his beliefs. He'll try to do good when he can but doesn't shove morals down other people's throats- if someone wants to suffer the penalties of karma, let them. This doesn't mean that he'll stand by and let somebody be hurt if he can help it however, rather if the deed in question is something miniscule he's not going to berate the person for the decision. That said, he doesn't necessarily hold governments to have legitimate authority over him: laws often conflict with doing the moral thing.
Backstory: Four years ago Gan was set to fight another student of his temple, Ferin, in a duel. This trial of arms was created by the order's leaders in an effort to silence their inter-rivalry once and for all. Ever since these two began training at the early age of 6 they fostered a competitive relationship. Whether it was endurance training, sparring with spears, archery, unarmed combat or even something as neutral as spirituality, these two were always trying to one-up each other. It never turned violent however, the temple masters made sure of that.
At the age of 20 (the time when a boy is considered to have turned a man according to their customs), this final fight was meant to determine who would become the next apprentice to the head master. As these two were the front runners for possible candidates it was only natural for there to be a final way of settling things. As the duel begun it was instantly recognizable that his would be an even fight. For 30 minutes they kept up with each other, deflecting and attacking in equal amounts. After they had both become exhausted and it looked like there wasn't going to be a clear winner, it was told that they would have to end it with a naginata fight. Were they willing to kill for the chance at becoming master or would the end the contest with a draw? The monk leaders were hoping for the latter as killing would end their candidacy for the position.
As it happens, they both had fostered a disdain for each other for so long that they decided on the former. They both went into the fight, strength redoubled as they attempted to land the final blow. Again it seemed like neither of them would be victorious after another drawn out 5 minutes. Finally, Ferin left himself open to an attack after he overextended a slash with his weapon. Seizing this opportunity, Gan instinctively responded by a stab at his chest. It connected, and unluckily for Ferin it hit his lungs. Relieved at emerging the winner, Gan's brief sense of accomplishment turned into horror and regret. He rushed over to where his childhood rival lay and cradled him in his arms as his opponent drew his last breaths.
"Maybe in a different life we'll meet on friendlier terms..."
And with that he was gone. Gan felt immense sorrow at this unusual loss. To rub salt in the wounds, he was then of course told that he was no longer eligible for temple master. Out of shame and distress Gan left for faraway lands and planned on never coming back. It was when he was wandering through a canyon when he discovered a shimmering portal. This portal would lead to the nexus.
Gender: Male (Technically genderless but what the hey! )
Age: I don't think you can put an age to a shadow.
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class/Profession: Telekenetic, Prototype Weapon
Power Rating: B+
Miscellaneous: Doesn't sleep or breathe or eat or drink etc.
Due to the fact that he is a shadow he has no permanent form or shape. However since people prefer to have a face present when spoken to he can make two blue lights appear on a head shape. Of course this is just a minor cantrip, those aren't really his eyes.
His personality is something akin to a Holier than thou persona. Since he has no need for things most mortals need his hobbies are limited to tracking things down, acquiring information and fighting evil. He doesn't have much of a social life either.
... He's a shadow, he needs no weapons or rations.
As a shadow you cannot harm him physically. Some of the lesser magics won't even have any effect. He can attach himself to a shadow of a person and take control. He can also touch a shadow to be able to make a physical copy of him/her. He can store magic, even very strong ones to use them at any time.
He's an aberrant born from a land in the Nexus chock full of magic that even the mundane can feel it. This was not always the case though. He was once a member of the shadow race that lived off producing living weapons. He had a rather uneventful life until he was sent to retrieve two living weapons. He fought them for a time until he came to realize how wrong the acts of the shadow race were. To make it up to Serph and Red, the two living weapons, he helped them reach a place called demon nest. With the help of a seemingly invincible adventurer they made it to the heart of the place. There they would be granted each a wish so he wished that he had never been part of the shadow race. His wish was granted and his memories erased. Now as a shadow aberration he wanders the Nexus keeping watch on items of power. Mostly he's tracking down Serph, who also got a new start thus no memories of that time, who seems to be stealing or gaining items of power whenever he can.
My Nexus characters that I consider important. Serph Oaruma
Alias: The Yochanan, most prominently. Roughly translated into modern english, it means 'the nothing man'. Jack Empty's another good one.
Gender: Male, at least as far as self-identification goes.
Race/Species: Tulpa. 'Thoughtform', in plain old english.
Age: A year or so. He remembers much, much further back, but he gained a body of his own right around a year ago.
Alignment: Chaotic friggin Evil. He's as much Jack Empty as the old wizard was, sans any semblance of humanity.
Power Rating: A
Description: The Yochanan looks like a slightly tall, middle-aged man, who's short hair has gone prematurely gray. His eyes are the color of ruddy nickels. There's this mad, sick grin that very rarely leaves his face. If you see his mouth curved any other which-way, it would be conducive to your good health if you left the room.
Empty is very rarely seen without his slate grey suit. It appears to be perfectly tailored, with no labels or other identifying marks. A white undershirt and matching grey tie round out the color code. Things sometimes stretch the fabric from within, push against his flesh and clothes, as though they want to escape.
Abilities: The Yochanan's powers are vast. He's a being of almost pure thought, and tends to enforce that rule upon the world as best he can. Bending reality comes naturally.
In particular, Empty likes to make people afraid. It seems to make him strong. He'll attack your mind, or bring your fears to life if he can. The bastard's faster than you would believe, and what's worse, very strong.
Backstory: To come later. See my other character, Jack, for a bit of context.
__________________ My avatar was done by Gulaghar. Thanks again!
In a dream I found a place
of rotting meat and eldritch grace
and looked upon his primordial face
and from my thoughts could not erase
that sense of time that sense of space
and my heart the darkness did embrace.
Alias: See above. Because good luck pronouncing his real name.
Species: Space Dinosaur
Age: Roughly 40 (proportionally around 25)
Class: Wizard (Spellslinger)
Power Rating: B?
-Almost stereotypical wizard powers. Mostly in direct manipulation of energy, but he can attempt plenty other things. He's not very good at all at spells to influence people, save for one which encourages them to ignore his presence. Still, he's an up-front kind of person, and his spellcasting ability reflects that
-He's a crack shot with most firearms, provided he can actually fire them.
-His natural weapons are still there, although he detests using them.
-He communicates mostly through TrueSpeak. Although his vocabulary is limited, anyone can understand him, unlike his native tongue, which is nigh-impossible to understand if you're not a reptile and difficult if you are
Somewhere in-between a large raptor and a small Allosaurus, Lexington stands at around seven feet tall. His talons are small when compared to similar Earth creatures, but still sizable. His scales are a deep green in color. He also has a pair of small, fin-like ears on the sides of his head. His arms end in hands, but they're not as developed as a humans' and he has trouble holding or manipulating some objects.
Most notable is his Gauntlet, a handheld computer built into a glove and bracer on his left arm, which acts as a sort of PDA/phone/all-purpose device. Essentially, it's Mass Effect's Omni-Tool shoved into a Pip-Boy 3000
Like many wizards, Lexington has access to his own pocket-dimension to carry his things. Unlike many wizards, his is full of guns and ammunition, along with a few basic necessities. Most notable is his customized SMG (Space Machine Gun), which is a small full or semi-automatic firearm capable of firing almost any kind of round, provided the magazine fits in the slot. He carries plasma and metal rounds for it at all times. Its grip is sized for his hands, and is also synched with the Gauntlet, which can display its ammo remaining and activate a kill-switch if the gun is stolen.
He also has a shotgun, more of the same, save that it only fires specific metal rounds. Although it can easily punch through steel, he dislikes using it because of its kick.
Lexington is good-natured and honest, but he's also impatient and occasionally near-sighted. He prefers to take on his problems head-on, although he understands that his powers make it easy to avoid having to and will if necessary (although it isn't as fun). Despite being a gun nut, he actually hates unnecessary violence, and is prone to anger towards people who don't take life and death seriously.
Backstory: An old race of reptiles, Lexington's race is surprisingly peaceful for carnivores, although once earned, their enmity is a terror to experience. They still retain their predatory instincts, and discipline is honored beyond most else, because for a race that interacts with others often, losing yourself to instincts could mean accidentally biting a friend's head off. Lexington understands this, and spent years to gain control of himself in this regard, despite his lack of patience in other situations. Members of his race often find a hobby to keep their minds occupied, and Lexington picked up two: guns and magic. Although the second is rare among his people, it isn't unheard of, and the former is extremely commonplace. His family was wealthy enough to support his taste in past-times, and he makes decent money offering his services as well. He left home at an early age to learn from others, and he made Earth one of his favorite visits, although he was limited to the few places with people willing to hide alien tourists. For him, this meant New York, in the care of a good human friend with far too many resources for his own good.
It's common for people of his race, whose names can be difficult for most to pronounce, to be given an easier name by a close friend. However, his human friend refused to give him one, to instead he simply looked at the nearest street-sign. Hence, Lexington.
Misc: because he talks mainly through TrueSpeak, Lex can seemingly have any accent or lack thereof, depending on who's listening, at your discretion.
Spako by Ceika.
[Sorry Boss, but as always, I get the last word.]
Last edited by LordDeathkeeper : 12-08-2012 at 01:00 AM.
Race: Bear with me on this. Half elf, quarter angel, quarter demon. Yeah.
(Note this is Ary when she's 23, but the general idea of how she looks is the same)
Aryna Firiat is the Daughter of Kelri and Al Firiat. Caught up during a timeshift before she was born, Ary technically doesn't belong in this timeline, nor does she have a father. While the timeline's alternative of her father believes himself to be her father, Ary isn't so sure herself, preferring to refer to him as her uncle. Because of this, Ary has discarded her family name, preferring to simply go by Aryna.
Ary is a capable sword wielder, preferring to use a pair of katanas forged for her. She is also capable of fighting unarmed and can incorporate some measure of fire and teleportation magic into how she fights. Ary is fairly skilled with her katanas despite her young age, her fighting style is also based on a dual dagger fighting style, so can sometimes come across as needlessly flashy.
While Ary has inherited the powers a goddess from the crystal guardian, she often refuses to use them. This comes mostly from a lack of confidence, but also a belief that she should work to improve herself on her own abilities. Despite this, she will use the guardian powers for healing magic.
Ary's left arm is usually covered by a large silver guantlet, a red lens on the back of the hand, leading all the way up to her shoulder, this is due to a kind of corruption covering her left arm. The gauntlet works as a suppression device, Ary can control this corruption to some extent by filtering the corruption through the lens, but in times of extreme anger or need, the corruption can take over her entirely. Her left leg is an almost weapon-like prosthetic, made of a metal designed to counteract the corruption in her body. The leg is very durable, and has it's own motor drive in the knee, allowing Ary to move swiftly with it even when tired.
Ary is a very quiet person, often preferring to keep to herself. she has an extreme dislike of killing, stemming from her perceptions on death, a kill ends not only the victim's life, but also any lives that could have come from that person. While Ary will kill monsters, feral creatures, etc, when she has to, she will feel violently ill if forced to kill any sentient or civilised creature. She's also extremely arachnophobic.
She's also a little bit ditzy.
(While I know some of this seems wierd, she's an established character from another forum, I've had to do some workarounds and such.)
*A formidable combatant experienced in wielding greatswords, who can even cleave through plate armor relatively easily.
*Twice a day, he can teleport short distances, however he must be able to see where he's teleporting to.
Crystal orb allows him to:
*Manipulate shadows to attack his opponents but has to concentrate and stand still when doing so. This can include immobilizing someone, cutting and directly attacking them, or temporarily blinding them.
*Absorb magical attacks by storing them and then dissipating the power. It can only store so much at one time, and if it absorbs too much it will then break under pressure.
*Inspire panic and fear into weak-medium tier foes when he wills it.
Description: Vordenar has pale grey skin typical of the Shadark-kai race as well as the the ever common dark hair and eyes. He is about average in height, standing at about 5'11" and is very muscular due to his time training as a gladiator. Vordenar is incredibly strong and brutal in both attack and movement. Plate armor that is mostly black and white is Vordenar's typical attire of choice as well as an armored mask that covers his mouth. A dark coat that comes down to his boots is another favorite piece of clothing of his as well as his ivory necklace. If one were to get a glimpse of his skin they would see that he is covered in tattoos symbolizing combat, honor, power, death and life in conjunction with many scars.
Equipment: A menacing two-handed broad sword, plate armor, clawed gauntlets, an ivory pendant, and an orb made from diamond are Vordici's main assets.
Personality: Cold, and intimidating are just two words to describe Vordenar's presence. He is a sell-sword who cares only for fame and believes himself an instrument of death. And hey, if wealth happens to come with that, who's to complain? Mainly, Vordenar is a ferocious fighter who doesn't care who is target for the most part. As long as they aren't a child, or anyone incapable of fighting back, he'll fight them. As an honorable warrior, Vordenar sees killing the defenseless as a shameful and despicable act that only serves to sour reputation. He also has no fear of death. If he must die, then so be it.
He is a fairly blunt person who gives curt replies and isn't afraid to say what's on his mind. Hiding intentions is another cowardly act that Vord despises. A true man would make his desire clear and not try to deceive someone. Vordenar hasn't loved anybody since his teacher's death but isn't incapable of positive emotion. He's never met somebody worthy of his affection though, especially none of the people he's worked for.
Backstory: Vordenar was once a former gladiator who fought back in his home, the shadowfell. He had been forced into fighting from birth, trained to be a master warrior for the entertainment of others. Good thing for him, he became adopted by an unusually nice mentor who treated him like one of his own. Unlike most Shadar-kai, this kindly older man taught Vordenar not only how to fight but also how to love and appreciate the minutiae of life. He also gave Vordenar a pendant that came from him family line.
During one fateful battle that took place when Vord was 17, his mentor went up against the reigning champion, a merciless warrior who never lost. The kindly old man lost the fight and was barbarically torn asunder. Grief-stricken, Vordenar challenged the brute to trial-by-arms. He won the fight but became severely wounded and battered, becoming useless as a gladiator. After a couple of years he finally healed and left the shadowfell in search of a new life.
Once Vordenar discovered the nexus during one of his forays into tiefling lands, he left for it and never looked back. He now searches work as a mercenary in order to become famous and reputable as a tribute to his mentor and himself.
Description: Forgan is tall and muscular, with messy dark brown hair and light blue eyes. When he is not performing mercenary work in his armor (chain - mail shirt, helmet, metal shoulder pads and poleyns), he wears a sleeveless leather vest over his white tunic, brown pants, and sandals. Of course he also wears a belt.
A great sword that Forgan carries everywhere with him, duty or off-duty. It is carried in the scabbard that hangs over his belt.
Four leather coin purses at his belt, where he carries his hard earned money.
A larger leather bag where he keeps his armor.
Personality: Forgan is a decent and friendly person. He’ll help a friend if he can, but will not get involved in any conflicts outside of duty unless he has to. He is hard to anger, but when he is angered, he’ll certainly throw quite a “tantrum”.
Born and raised in a village in the mountains, Forgan seemed to stand out of the crowd with his great strength and height. It wasn’t until his teenage years that he learned that his deceased father was a giant, making Forgan realize that he was a half – giant.
With the shocking truth, Forgan decides to leave his home village, away from those who treated him like an outsider. Ever since then, he has been a mercenary, selling his services to anyone with a good offer. He’ll do any sort of job that is within his abilities, just as long as it pays well.
He knows the basics of good and evil, but he chooses not to have any part in it.
Alias: R.I.N. (Reconnaissance and Intelligence Network)
Age: GETH do not record age
Class: Mysterious Stranger
Equipment: One trenchcoat (Pockets are Pockets of Holding), One Fedora, One Omi-Tool, One 44. Magnum, One ME1 predator, One Black Widow (Sniper Rifle), Galactic Credits
Powers: Marksman, Overload (Interferes with electrical systems specifically target in small areas), Hunter Mode (can see (Life forms and advance technologically system AKA robots) through thin walls)
a GETH wearing a trenchcoat and a fedora
Lacks a basic understanding of emotions and normal interaction but has knowledge on the their existences. Always seeks to do the right thing through the few means he knows. He also says the word GETH a lot it is unknown if it is because of pride in his heritage or a preference for the word
My name is Meredit. Some of my friends tell me I look white. Meredit Zhang. Most of them tell me I look Asian. What I look like in the mirror is great-great-aunt Nadiya. She was the last one to be born in Russia before mom's family came here. We have a colorized photograph of her wearing flapper robes. Sometimes I use it for my profile photo because it's exactly what I see in the mirror. And I'm human of course.
I want to go to college for an art degree but money is tight right now. In the spring I'll have a job at the Waldorf school I went to but as a daycare assistant. Until then I sell knitted balls and pouches on Etsy and custom knitwear by special order. It's actually hand-made too. Some people use knitting machines and try to call their stuff hand-made. It's not right. I don't think I'm supposed to link to my shop but you can probably find it.
I don't read a lot of books. I'm too busy. I had to learn what elves were since most of the special requests were for fantasy plushies. But now I'm here and they're real? Were they always real and this is just the world only bigger and weirder than I thought it was? Or is this heaven? Am I dead?
I suppose I'm a wee bit late but here goes anyway.
Name: Zane Darkstar
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Power Rating: C to B-
Weapon/Ability: A single-edged, two foot long elven shortsword, a three foot long elementium cylinder which can expand and form into a double ended blade or split into two blades. His special ability is a unique, black fire. This flame can be "molded" as he wishes, and can be either hurled by hand or can coat his swords in combat. Also, it feeds on fear...when it hits a person, if they feel fear at any time while they have flame on them, the fire burns at 10x the ferocity and speed.
Description: Startlingly blue eyes, often covered by a black, worn out, traveling cloak. Underneath the cloak, is a dark green tunic, black pants, and a leather satchel. Well used leather boots don his feet.
Bio: In an obscure, mist-covered portion of a forgotten sea, there is an island. In the center of this island, one would see an active volcano bubbling with black magma. A small village hosts a mere fifty farmers. Great pyromantic secrets have dwelt with these people for centuries. One being the secret of the Fearblaze. Zane is one of 27 pyromancers who have ever had the Black Fire, all of whom originated on this island. Currently only three of these live. They all left the island at different times. Therefore no acquaintance has been made between any of them.
If any of these pyromancers had been born in a different land, they would have normal flame, or nothing. The volcano is the source of their power. If it went dormant or extinct, their powers would fade or die.
Alias: "That Merchant"
Power Rating: C- (magic user)
Equipment: He carries an ancient wizard staff with him.
Abilities: Zane can cast a massive variety of spells.
Backstory: If you see a young wizard with white hair that says that he is a retired adventurer, that would be Zane Grandworth. Having traveled so often, Zane has forgotten where he came from. His experienced magic usage proves that he is older than he looks. What he does now is simply selling things he has found in his travels.
Miscellaneous: He has traveled to other dimensions and periods of time as well.
And he has a talking black cat for a familiar. Zane calls him Charcoal.
Alias: None Gender: Female Race/Species: Half Elf/Half Storm Giant Age: 22 Alignment: Chaotic Good Class/Profession: Sorceress. Power Rating: A Description: See Avatar
Height: 12'10" (Varies wildly depending on mood, ranges between a couple inches and over 1000')
Weight: 1380 lbs. (See Height)
Long limbed, narrow waist, slightly chesty, toned yet willowy, shoulder length red hair.
Personality: She knows how attractive she is, as a result, she can seem a bit stuck up, but she's fiercely loyal to friends and family, flirty in an intimidating way, if she wants something, some guy might jump at the chance to provide it, just to have her smile at him, she's always been taller than most, even before her recent changes, so she has always had to try not to come off as aggressive, especially towards other girls, so as not to come off as haughty and superior.
She won't hesitate to mock her friends playfully, however. (Her best friend is a dwarf and they constantly bicker and call each other names, but each would gladly risk their lives for the other)
Equipment: A +1 Longsword and Shield, each with the insignia of a stormcloud on them, as well as a +2 Greatclub covered in Giant runes.
In addition to the HoGD, she wears rings of Protection and Sustenance, an amulet of Natural Armor, a pearl of power, bracers of armor and a headband of Mental Prowess.
She has a Handy Haversack to carry the larger than usual everyday items an adventurer of her size requires, as well as her pair of Immovable Rods.
She also has a holster with a wand on each hip, one of Magic Missile lvl 9 and one of Cure Moderate Wounds.
Abilities: She has the Stormborn Bloodline in addition to her normal spell list, she also can use Righteous Might, a spell granted to her by a king's wizard as reward for completing a dangerous mission.
After defeating The Labyrinth, she earned the powers of size and shape manipulation, allowing her to change her appearance and size at will.
Backstory: Growing up, Felandria's mother never spoke of her father, even when asked repeatedly over the years.
Despite being tall and beautiful, Felandria, being a half elf, has always felt the disdain the pure elves have for halfbreeds like her and resents their arrogance.
For many years, she has had a recurring dream in which she has become the queen of the elves, in the dream, she's a giant, the elves knee high to her, she came into power without bloodshed and leads them with benevolence and kindness, instilling into them an understanding that the half elves should be welcomed, not shunned and both races eventually put their enmity aside and become united.
After reaching adulthood, she immediately decided to become an adventurer, deciding the dreams were a sign she was destined to unite the elven races, after helping some other villagers defeat a giant boar that attacked the village, they formed a party and set out to seek their fortune.
They defeated a necromancer that was raising the dead, in his dungeon, she found a sword and shield with a stormcloud insignia on them, something deep inside her told her she needed them, like they belonged to her.
Their kingdom was soon plagued by dark forces, the party made their way to the king and warned him of the danger, he sent them to gather information in the underdark, where they discovered maps pointing to a series of gates, several of which they had encountered previously, each beset by peril, the party and the king determined that someone or something was determined to destroy all the gates, and not knowing what would happen if the gates were destroyed, he sent the party to investigate the remaining gates and keep them safe.
They located the next gate in an icy cave, they were attacked by a large wormlike creature that gave off heat to tunnel through the ice, Felandria found a stone tablet that enabled her to give commands to the creature, the tablet was written in Giant, a language she didn't know she understood.
They found a dais under an archway frozen in ice, using the creature to melt the ice, they found a shield identical to the one Felandria found before, they find a slot for a sword, Felandria sticks the sword inside, but nothing happens, her sword is too small for the slot, the cave begins to tremble, and huge roars are heard rumbling through the cave, Felandria uses Enlarge Person and tries the sword again, it fits perfectly and Felandria is struck with a blast of energy, the gate activates and Felandria discovers her size is now permanent.
She quickly deciphers the runes and opens the gate to the first location they can find before whatever is coming for them shows up.
They step through the gate and discover themselves on top of a mountain.
An older, bearded man arrives through the gate right after them and thanks them for opening the gate so he could return home, he sees Felandria and introduces himself as her father.
He and the Olympians were the protectors of the gates back when they first created the other races, but time and other changes in the world have weakened them, endangering the gates, when Felandria activated the gate, her true bloodline awakened, her dreams were her subconscious hinting at what she really was.
It is now her destiny to maintain the gates and keep the colossal dragon they ward off from awakening and destroying everything.
Having defeated the threat to the gates, Felandria and her party have temporarily seperated, seeking more powerful equipment and magic items, as well as other worthy souls willing to help defend the gates.
Felandria paired with a mysterious figure who called himself Barry to successfully escape The Labyrinth, earning a wish from the powerful being known as Steve.
She gained the powers of Shape and size manipulation, allowing her to change her form and size at will.
She has been intimate with Steve recently and feels a deep connection with him, but it's nowhere near being exclusive, and she has inherited her father's prodigious carnal appetite.
She also has inherited the Greek gods' sense of tendency to get bored easily and seek out new stimuli frequently, recently offering her services to GLoG and HALO and taking a job as the bouncer at Mr. Ritzzz's Casino, until fleeing the casino during a shoot out, hopping into Decker's TARDIS.
She recently met Lynette, a half-angel, part elf human? Who, due to an incident with an ancient artifact, is as big as Felandria, they hit it off immediately
Felandria is currently attempting to make a name for herself as the Nexus's superhero.
Last edited by Felandria : 09-15-2013 at 04:42 PM.
Alias: None Gender: ? Race/Species: Imp Age: ? Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Class/Profession: None Power Rating: D- Description: See Avatar
Weight: 5 lbs.
Personality: Always acting as a literal devil on Felandria's shoulder, his efforts have become less an attempt to damn her soul and more a way to amuse himself.
Having quickly realized Felandria to be far less corruptible than he first suspected, due to having met her shortly after she learned of her true nature and her destiny, he decided he'd be better off as her sidekick and drinking buddy, since corrupting the daughter of Zeus is way less fun than adventuring with her.
Equipment: A tiny bow and arrows.
Abilities: Standard imp abilities, as per the Pathfinder OGC.
Backstory: Styx attached himself to Felandria after she sought to destroy a cursed book that had poisoned Zeus, he quickly stowed himself in her hair, at first, Styx tried his best to corrupt her soul, but found his efforts fruitless.
Soon after, he resigned himself to being Felandria's companion, no longer trying to damn her, but always looking to find other ways to entertain himself, being careful not to anger Felandria too much, having discovered once that being gripped in a giant fist and getting hit with Shocking Grasp is not fun.
Besides, her hair is so warm and snuggly.
Pony Felandria by Dirtytabs
OOTS Avvie by Kymme
Doll by Recaiden
Alignment: True Neutral, though he absolutely detests the alignment system back from when he used to play tabletop games himself. He believed that at the end of the day, there were no absolutes, and what was right and what was wrong was decided solely by one's own empathy and sympathy for others.
Power Rating: OVER NINE THOUSAAA- No, actually it's just... say... Whatever an untrained pheasant's power level is. I'll check quickly.
E- on Neon Knight's scale, level 1 on quinsar's.
Description: Jake is a fairly short, thin pale skinned boy with mid-length brown hair and small blue eyes. As of now, his only T-shirt is a black one with a yellow smiley in the front (). He also wears a pair of blue nondescript jeans. On his left wrist is a small blue wristband known as a slider band.
Equipment: A broken 'slider band' - a wristband that allows him to travel between dimensions - and a backpack filled solely with chocolate, trail mix and a GPS that doesn't work here. No, not even some clothes. Well, yeah, some underwear, but that's it.
Abilities: An unexplained immunity to most types of magic, as well as the uncanny ability to see the invisible, though he's yet to discover either of these. His wristband should let him travel between dimensions, but that thing's broken.
Backstory: Jake was born in a universe not dissimilar to ours; actually, with the exception of the facts that Justin Bieber was mauled to death during his first live performance, or that John Lennon was still alive, it was an exact replica. When not playing DnD with his friends Samantha and Thomas - and he didn't play it often - Jake loved playing video games and reading books, sometimes even opting to write something before procrastinating and ending up forgetting what he was doing. He's also got a love for gambling, especially blackjack and Poker, though he isn't quite as good at the latter as at the former.
His best friend, Thomas, was a genius that often worked on ridiculous experiments and tried - and failed - to create innovative pieces of technology. Then, one day, Thomas discovered that multiple dimensions did indeed exist! The boy created the slider wristband, tested it and then gave it to his good friends Jake and Samantha to become the first users other than himself. From Thomas' description of the Nexus, Jake thought he knew exactly what he was waiting for when he came here.
He was wrong. So, very, very, wrong. And now, with his slider band broken and no way to get home, what shall he do? What path shall he take on the 'edge of infinity', as Zee so kindly put it?
Name: Samantha Krynn
Alignment: True Neutral
Power Rating: E+ on Neon Knight's scale, level 3 on Quinsar's
Description: She has black hair and dark brown eyes, giving her an ironically 'wise' look, considering her amnesia. She woke up wearing her hair as a ponytail and wearing a dark blue hoodie and a nondescript pair of jeans. She has pale skin, and a small green 'slider band' on her left wrist. She also has a brown backpack.
Equipment: A small brown backpack consisting of trail mix, a GPS that doesn't work, an auto-filtering water bottle, a small swiss-army knife, an empty book - potentially a diary? - and a pen with multiple cartridges of ink.
Backstory: Samantha was born and raised in the same dimension/universe as Jake and Thomas, and the trio often spent their time playing Dungeons and Dragons or doing other "Nerdy" activities. Unlike Jake, she was not very interested in literature or video games, finding sports much more appealing.
When Thomas discovered the dimensions and created the Slider band, she watched Jake try it out and enter the next dimension. When she tried to travel to the next dimension, however, something... bad happened. The fabric between dimensions was shredded to pieces and two universes - one hers and one populated with small chaotic-evil impish creatures - began to merge. Sam fearfully slid from her dimension to the Nexus, not knowing that this fear would be the death of her...
Now, she awakens in the Nexus with no memories but the occasional incoherent flash, and nothing to lead her to her past but the small green wristband she wears and the backpack she wears. It's time for her to begin her search.
Name: Thomas Grayson
Gender: Male (?)
Race/Species: Ghost/intangible spirit... thing.
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Power Rating: He is literally unable to fight anything due to not having a tangible form. This also means that he is immortal and invulnerable to attack.
Description: Thomas has no tangible form, nor does he have any visible form of any kind.
Equipment: No tangible form means no equipment.
Backstory: Thomas was an incredibly intelligent student, though he always wore a facade of stupidity in front of all but his closest friends; Jake and Samantha. He enjoyed experimenting with the unknown, and when he found out about the multiverse, he was thrilled! He created a computer that allowed him to peek into other universes, and the first place that he found was the 'Nexus'. Excited, he began working on slider bands for himself and his friends.
His experimentation, however, led to many unforeseen and disastrous consequences; he had torn the fabric that separated different dimensions, which would lead to the merging of the dimension he resided in and a dimension populated by unintelligent, non-sentient gray impish creatures.
Realizing the folly of his actions, Thomas worked on all three slider bands and gave one to each of his friends, saving one for his friends. He purposely made them one-way tickets to the Nexus, as a way to help his friends - and himself - escape their dimension with their lives. Jake made it through with no trouble, and not suspecting anything. Samantha did not leave without seeing imps invade the earth, and her fear mixed with the unstable Slider Band gave her amnesia. Finally, Thomas, knowing fully well what would happen to his home and the inhabitants of his dimension, left for the Nexus with an extremely heavy heart. This guilt, mixed with fear of the otherworldly imps and the unstable Slider Band, caused Thomas to lose all tangible form and left him a shell of his former self, roaming the Nexus with absolutely nothing to do. Yay.
Miscellaneous: He is a ghostly being with no tangible form and is unable to interact with the world around him. While he can make his presence known to others and can contact them with ease, only those with Slider Bands (IE: Jake and Samantha) can be aware of his presence and communicate with him without his consent.
Name: Caleb Delect.
Alias: The empty one
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Power Rating: E+/3
Description: To those that can see him, Caleb is a cheery old man with dirty teeth. He has short white hair and is fairly chubby. He has blue eyes and tan skin no matter where he's been. He always dons leather generic clothes.
Personality: He was a hopeless man that wanted more than anything to just be seen. Was. Now he has been seen, and this hopelessness has been turned to determination. Screw the Gods, he says, he's going to find a way to become a person again.
Backstory: All that is known about him is that he was cursed by the Gods and is now invisible and normally intangible to most people on the mortal plane.
Miscellaneous: While he is invisible and intangible to all mortals (except, for some reason, Jake), that doesn't mean he cannot be sensed. Especially keen psychics are able to sense him, as can other ghosts, but only creatures in the immortal plane can communicate with him.
Alias: Mark, Mark-Two
Gender: None (prefers "he" for pronoun use, but doesn't mind "it.")
Species: Myr (Construct)
Age: Not recorded
Alignment: Neutral Good
Role: Assistant and Bodyguard
Power Level: D, in terms of combat
Description: As the image above. He's a little over two feet tall made of brass, with solid green eyes and a beaked head, although he has no discernible mouth, which makes the beak entirely aesthetic. He's slightly more bulky than the image, though, with more obvious seams in his chassis since plates move and come out when necessary. Still, when he's all sealed up they're rather subtle. His hands are a bit larger than normal proportions.
-He carries a Mithral short-sword on his back, although he has to wield it as a greatsword. It's moderately enchanted, but in combat this only makes it slightly more effective. Its true effect is that the Mk. II can detect its presence or general location if lost for any reason. Its metal and leather sheathe is decorated somewhat but otherwise ordinary.
-He also carries a small number of various replacement parts and scrap metal (many not even compatible with him) and a small amount of metal currency in a hidden "drawer" panel in his chassis, which functions as a Bag of Holding. Said panel was made to be particularly difficult to dispel while closed, since doing so would likely severely damage him from having the contents suddenly burst from his torso.
The Mk. II was made as a mechanist's assistant and bodyguard, and his repertoire reflects that. He has a very complete knowledge of complex machinery, specializing in its maintenance but also knowledgeable in the construction of parts. He's used to assisting spellcasters, but he himself does not comprehend magic. He can use essentially any tool, and anything reasonable can probably be found built into him somewhere or is in his "drawer."
He's a very competent fighter, making use of his small stature to strike in low areas or jumping up to strike at places out of reach. He's fast, strong, and is decently acrobatic, but any truly dedicated fighter would outclass him. Still, he is completely unperturbed by any damage short of removing/destroying his core and is surprisingly hard, making him able to fight on longer than a person. In times of emergencies he has a small, single-shot firearm concealed in his left arm. It must be loaded by hand (it takes bullets) and it isn't very strong, (we'll call it 9mm) so he only uses it if he somehow sees it as necessary.
He can also deliver electrical charges from his power source, for various purposes.
Bio: The Mk. II is powered by a complex battery system capable of being charged by nearly anything, although he often asks for aid in charging it due to a strong preference for keeping at high capacity at all times. He does, in fact, have a soul, stored in an armored Core of crystal. He is not aware of the nature of this crystal, instead only knowing that it is what makes him special and able to learn and experience emotions. If ever identified and questioned, he will not know where, what, or who the soul came from.
Despite not having actual programming, he understands the purpose of his construction and has developed a deep sense of altruism and selflessness. He has a sense of self-preservation, but will risk damage of anything short of his Core in the aid of others, and sometimes even that. His money is for purely practical purposes, and will give away funds he deems unnecessary to himself to any cause he feels noteworthy.
He spends most of his time simply finding people to aid in any capacity, usually no matter how petty. He may hesitate in doing extremely lowly tasks that would also get him very dirty, as he does have some sense of pride, especially for his shiny plates. He will not, for any reason, willingly part with his sword.
Backstory: The Mk. II is a prototype myr unit heavily customized for personal use. He was built from the ground up by his Master referencing the normal Mk I schematics. He was the first, last, and only unit made with a Soul Crystal Core. His Master built dozens of ordinary units though, and many with some magic abilities, although the man was a mechanist first and a mage second. The main was rather gruff, but treated "Mark" very well, although the little construct would likely have not noticed even if we was mistreated a bit. He gave him his sword as a gift to help in his duties ("It'll cut people, it'll cut animals, it'll cut were-creatures, and anything short of a demon, so you better take care of it, 'cause you're not getting another"), hence Mark's treasuring of it. The Master died of natural causes, and when Mark decided he would only be a burden to the mourners, he simply wandered off. He understands he's since crossed out of his homeworld, but he really hasn't particularly noticed.
Alias: Harlequin Jack/ The Pumpkin/ Jacko/ The Orange Trickster
Gender: Unknown but is commonly referred to as a male.
Race/Species: Unknown. Appears to be some sort of pumpkin/humanoid combination but is the only one of its kind in any case.
Age: Very old. Somewhere in the range of 1000-2000 years.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral - a freespirited creature that does what he wants for his own amusement. This doesn't mean that he inflicts pain for fun however; he's not a sadist.
Class/Profession: Jester/Trickster/Prankster/Pumpkin man - take your pick
Power Rating: Is susceptible to scaling. In general Jack has a low rating standing at about D+ but when pushed too far, i.e. is in danger of being killed, can become as powerful as an A. He generally refrains from fighting as it doesn't amuse him as much as pulling pranks does.
Description: A humanoid being that wears a pumpkin on its head. Or maybe that is Jack's head. Who knows. Said head (heh, that rhymed) has a permanent expression of enthusiastic joy and delight as seen through the large grin and giddy eyes. The pumpkin man is garbed in full orange and black clothing including gloves, boots, belt, tunic, and cape. On his sides are two harvesting sickles that may or may not be used as weapons. Furthermore, Jacko is constantly followed around pikmin style by miniature pumpkins with faces that bounce and roll around everywhere.
Personality: Is a mostly harmless deviant being that only wants to be entertained. Can come off as rude, mean, indifferent, or even scary but doesn't mean anyone true harm. Likes to do peculiar and weird things to attract people's attention. A very odd being to be sure.
Equipment: Two sickles, pumpkin minions, a seemingly unlimited supply of squash and apples, bag of pumpkin seeds, candy, and of course, a jack-o-lantern.
Weight: 1380 lbs.
Long limbed, narrow waist, slightly chesty, toned yet willowy, long, flowing black hair
Personality: Simply put, as far as Deadra is concerned, all are beneath her and only exist for her convenience.
It amuses her greatly when one is not instantly enthralled with her beauty, since such a creature must be severely brain damaged and thus unable to be of the slightest use, except as a source of blood.
Equipment: She wears rings of Protection and Blinking, an amulet of Darkness, bracers of armor and a headband of Mental Prowess.
She has a Handy Haversack to carry the larger than usual everyday items an adventurer of her size requires, as well as her pair of Immovable Rods.
She also has a holster with a wand on each hip, one of Magic Missile lvl 9 and one of Inflict Moderate Wounds.
Abilities: She has the Stormborn Bloodline in addition to her normal spell list, she also can use Righteous Might, a spell granted to her by a king's wizard as reward for completing a dangerous mission.
Backstory:Same as Felandria, up to a point.
The book she was set to destroy turned her into a vampire after she was forced to read it in hopes of learning a way to destroy it.
This new power overwhelmed her, she tried to remain herself, but after tragedy struck and her party died, there was nothing tying her to her old life so she cast aside her mission and her name and returned to the underdark where she found Chance, an old vampire acquaintance she had met before.
Chance, who before wanted to make Felandria his bride was immediately love struck with this new version of her, which she used to her advantage, she convinced him to use his power and influence to gather a new party to take the mission to restore the gates (after all, what is the point of taking over the world if it's destroyed?), a task at which they eventually succeeded.
Sadly, Chance never got to see this happen as Deadra slayed him on their wedding night, claiming all he had as her own.
Not content to rule the underdark, she sought knowledge of how to become ruler of her realm, an old gypsy informed her the only thing that could stop her was herself, because she was an anomaly, the only version of her to become what she was and that eventually one reality's Felandria would destroy her because she should not exist.
Angered at being told she was supposedly a mistake, she killed and drained the gypsy and set out to ensure that she would be the only version of herself to exist on any plane of existence, proving that the others were the mistakes.
Deadra has disposed of several Felandrias, but she discovered the one in the Nexus is more powerful than she can presently handle, so she's biding her time, waiting for her to slip.
When she arrived an an infirmary to obtain some blood, an armored Space Marine challenged her and attempted to kill her, but she managed to turn him.
Her new sire, Kharin, is extremely powerful and Deadra hopes that the two of them can take over the Nexus.
Pony Felandria by Dirtytabs
OOTS Avvie by Kymme
Doll by Recaiden
Description: Ignai is short, and thin to the point that it's unhealthy. Her has pale white skin and her somewhat short, black hair fades out to an ashen grey near the tips. Her eyes are an almost glowing yellow-orange and her ears are pointed. All around her eyes, the skin looks red and tender, much like a healing burn. The edge of her right ears is badly damaged, as if it had been torn at some point in the past.
Personality: She is a quiet, unobtrusive individual. A hard life has left her with few things to be happy about, and she finds herself slipping into occasional bouts of hopelessness. Even so, she is persistent and does her best to keep her chin up during hard times.
Abilities: None that she can control.
Backstory: Ignai went her entire life being shunned by those around her and only tolerated by her parents. She was seen as punishment from the gods for some nebulous crime. Not only was she alone, but she had to have a rigorous control over her own emotions. Unfortunately, there were slips, and there was always damage, and embarrassment for her family.
Finally, her parents disowned and banished her. She was stripped of her family name and any sign of her family. She was Nameless. After some days of aimless wondering, she came across the city of Inside. It was difficult to adjust, and the stress didn't help with her situation, but she managed to carve out a stable living. That is, until the incident.
The result was devastating. The apartment she was living in was reduced to a burned husk and everything she owned was caught in the blaze. What's worse, three people died in that fire. She ended up out on the streets. She tried to pick herself up and get work, but she often couldn't keep a hold of her emotions and soon she would be back where she started.
Miscellaneous: She is inflicted with some sort of curse. When she gets strongly emotional, she causes fires to spontaneously start around her. The stronger the emotion, the more fire.
Description: Xavier is short, standing just under five feet tall. He has a very slight build, almost fragile looking. His light brown hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, his skin is slightly tanned, and his large eyes are a pale green. A pair of feathered antenna peek out from his hairline. He typically wears finely made clothing.
When he's not using a particular magic item, he actually stands around five inches tall. Also revealed are a large pair of wings, not unlike a butterfly's. They're a pinkish read that becomes a bright orange near the outside edges.
Personality: He is a very polite, proper individual. Xavier tries to be good to others and never seeks to offend them. He's very studious and has an endless thirst for new knowledge. He's happiest when he gets to learn something new.
A metal cuff on his right arm. It allows him to hide away his wings and become human sized.
A glove with a stylized clawed hand on the outside of it. Allows him to create a disembodied hand made of pure force that he can manipulate as if it were his own hand.
Abilities: Xavier can produce a fine powder commonly known as pixie dust. It's applications are too numerous to count, but it can be summed up in that it manipulates what it's applied to for a limited time. These effects are always temporary and be quite significant. That said, she can't change one item entirely into another or do other effects are the too drastic.
He is also technically a Wright, in that he has some small talent for Pymary. His abilities with it are by no means extensive, however.
Backstory: Xavier was born to a tribe of pixies that lived neart he Weald. He was always different from many of his kin. He did not take to violence like so many others, and chose to occupy himself with other tasks. While many others were more content to survive and enjoy the day to day excitement of their life, Xavier was always driven to learn new things.
Eventually, his differences from his people drove him to set out no his own. He dedicated much of his time to the pursuit of knowledge and the study of magic. He learned much about the world, travelling to many places int he Nexus, but most notably he lived in Inside. It was quite a shock for the once tribal pixie, but he took to the new environment well.
Power Rating: D to C (Depending upon circumstances, tending lower)
Description: An ordinary adventurer, with short, brown hair, blue eyes, standing around 6ft/1.8m tall, wearing brown and beige leather clothes, a sword sheathed on his hip, and carrying a rather largish backpack. Those with extraordinary senses may be able to see that he is, in fact, merely a computer program projected onto reality, but otherwise he interacts and moves quite realistically, except for perhaps his lack of fine detail were one to look closely. In addition, his skin is quite rigid, while his clothes and hair have an artificial feel, but move more-or-less normally.
Personality: Generally good, and tries to help people, but is still somewhat uncomfortable about this whole "real-world" thing.
Abilities: A rather ordinary and unremarkable adventurer in his universe. He's a jack-of-all-trades class ("Adventurer") character, and so is a reasonably adept fighter, and can easily pick up new skills. He can also use (common/easy) magic devices, but has no magic abilities or resistances inherently.
Otherwise, by virtue of being a videogame character, he has these additional dynamics/abilities:
Hit Point Damage - Takes only minor (personal) effects until fully damaged. For example, he'll still get disoriented, or have slower reactions, etc, but you can't only cut off his leg. His 3D mesh doesn't support those kinds of transformations. He does, of course, take any physics effect fully, so bashing him across the room would work pretty well, but poison might only slow him down unless it kills him.
Regenerates Hit Points Naturally - Will slowly regain hitpoints over time. Obviously useless in a single-hit or large damage encounter, but very useful for endurance.
Environmental Video Game Abstractions - Minor different ways of interacting with the environment than normal, for example: staying underwater just deals damage, immune to heat unless he's actually in contact with fire or lava, can run at a normal pace forever without tiring out, doesn't actually need to eat or drink, can pick up dropped items as ammo, etc. However, he still does take fall damage, crushing is an instant kill, and he can still be affected by friendly fire or status effects.
Level Up - Every so often, will gain additional power and ability. This generally will not change any underlying dynamics of his character, however. This also only happens after combat, not during it.
Customize Appearance - Can change the color and design of his clothes nearly at will (not in combat), to common outfits/patterns, for example to fit with a setting, but cannot use this ability to match/duplicate anything specific or camouflage.
Continue on Death - Easier to kill than many others, but if he dies, a continue screen will be displayed and if an ally allows him to continue, he will resurrect with partial health. Note that there is a continue timer (shorter at higher difficulty levels) and he only has a limited number of lives, so if the last one is used, and he dies, it's Game Over permanently. (He'll be sent back to his home universe - so he won't be able to be resurrected even through other normal means, such as magic, technology, etc.) If no one presses continue, but he still has lives remaining, he may reappear somewhere else, but it's most likely game over for him in whatever quest/mission he was participating in.
Harrod's Complete Guide to Adventure Gaming: (Unique, Magical, Possibly Intelligent) This mystical strategy guide is his one saving grace during his adventures, as while he is decidedly average and inexperienced, this book contains oodles of tips, tricks, and advice for virtually any situation one could possibly encounter. In addition, it has been programagically bonded to him, and as such is impossible to lose, as any copy he has that is destroyed or lost, will return to him intact. However, other than being inexplicably bullet and arrow-proof, it is apparently an ordinary book, and can be burned, ripped, or destroyed (albeit temporarily) just the same. As well, if Kevin vanishes (by game over or running out of lives), the book will too, even though his other inventory can be looted.
Extradimensional Inventory: He has the ability to store ridiculous amounts of items in his pockets/backpack for use at any time. (This only applies to comparatively normal-sized items, he cannot store anything too big like a car or couch - basically, it has to fit through the backpack or pocket opening)
Currently, he possesses a large variety of ordinary non-magical (and probably useless) gadgets, including:
A ten-foot pole (Extendable), Ladder (Extendable), Funnels, Measuring Cups, Snorkel, LED Flashlight, Lantern, Stud finder, Measuring Tape, 50 feet of rope, Ball of red yarn, Grandma's Sweater, Pen, Pencil, and a few sheets of paper, Scissors, AM/FM Radio, Playing Cards, Megaphone, Granola Bars (2 HP each), First-Aid-Kit, Airhorn, Letter Opener, Floss, Toothbrush, Hair Brush, Canteen (filled with water), Flint/Steel Firestarter, Propane Camping Stove, Metal Detector, Laser Pointer, Ice Pick, Screwdriver Set, Wrench, Hammer, Shovel (Extendable), Rake (Extendable), Plastic Bags, A few empty wallets, 25 foot extension cord, Dagger, Sword, Small (6-shot Repeating) Crossbow, Revolver (6-shot), Semi-Automatic Pistol (9 shot), Shotgun (2 shot), Hunting Rifle (2 shot), and probably a bunch of other junk.
Special Items: Echolocation Jammer, Staff of Lightning/Energy Shield
Backstory: To be revealed at a suitably dramatic moment.
Name: Aramil Greenflame, family name Vadallia is rarely used. Age: 28 Gender: Male Alignment: Chaotic Good Race: Half-Human, Half-Eladrin Class: Hybrid of Fighter and Swordmage, and a touch of Artificer. Diety: The Silver Flame
Personality: As a Chaotic Good character, Aramil acts as his conscience directs with little regard for what others expect of him. He's the type to act for what he sees as the greater good, only works for the "good guys", and protects and helps those in need, without special regard for the law or authority. The tenets of his faith simply expect him to destroy evil, and protect and bring relief to those suffering, and aid those who need it. Aside from that, he is very serious, with a sarcastic sense of humor. He posesses a quick, curious intellect, and often acts when others would still be deciding what to do. He has a tendency for fierce anger when provoked, but in most circumstances, he is generally good natured.
Appearance/Armor: Aramil depicts a calm and quiet exterior. While not extremely small, he is a little below average height, and is fairly thin, with fine Eladrin features. At five feet, nine inches, and weighing only a hundred and sixty pounds, he doesn't have much of an imposing figure. He has dark brow hair kept fairly short, and his fairy paled face is kept clean shaven. He has the pupil-less eyes of his Eladrin kin, a penetrating emerald green, which is unusual for a half-elf. Perhaps the most striking, is his gauntleted left arm; in reality, it is an armored arm of a warforged composed of overlapping adamantium plates. It is a magical construct, and thus, works just as if it were an extension of his own body. Aramil wears fairly basic clothing, varying in dark tones - a short sleeved shirt, and a pair of well worn leather pants. He wears greaves that are fashioned to look similar to his arm, and heavy black boots. For armor, Aramil wears a suit of Grey Dragonscale armor, with a decorated red and gold militaristic greatcoat over his armor. Aramil wears the greatcoats hood almost all the time.
Weapons: Ar'cor'kerym [The King's Blade]
Nicknamed Arcor by Aramil, this is a hand and a half sword. The hilt of this sword is black adamantite and the blade is made of mithril. The blade is fairly wide, and is straight-backed with a tapered edge as to function well as a thrusting or slashing weapon. The sword has a star-cut ruby on its pommel. The blade is about thirty-six inches long, the handle is eight inches long, and the cross-guard pommel is squared in shape. The sword is partially emphatic and is able to impart weak, base emotions upon its wielder. Aramil claims that this weapon takes pleasure in dealing pain against evil foes.
Magic/Techniques: Along his other possessions, Aramil carries a thick iron and leather bound spellbook, charred and tattered, with scorch marks marring the pages. The book has a thick chain connected to it's spine, and the chain is looped though a hook on Aramil's belt, so that it lays loose at his side. The chain can retract, and extend when pulled, so Aramil can read the book, and then let it rest back at his hip. The tome contains a multitude of spells which Aramil can cast, but he must study the book each day for the use of his more powerful spells that he has not committed to memory.
Battle techniques that Aramil tends to use are all based around alchemical fire magic; he can bathe his sword in green arcane fire, which burns and corrodes flesh. Among other spells, Aramil has the ability to throw and recall his sword from great distances, and oftentimes he enchants his sword with arcane fire and hurls the sword at foes, igniting the blade and consuming the area in flames. Aramil is also able to use the fire as a protective measure, cloaking himself or allies in the flame to ward off attacks and harm nearby foes. His more difficult spells include calling down fiery meteors, storms of fire and ash, flame walls, and causing foes to be engulfed with spontaneous combustion. These last spells require preparation and material components, however, so they are not often used.
Aside from magic, Aramil's adamantine arm has a series of gears and chains inside it, which allows him to propel his hand from his arm, and shoot it toward a foe. He can then retract his arm, with the foe, to close the distance. Aramil has also crafted a guardian familiar, an enchanted greatsword with the spirit of a knight that floats beside him. The greatsword blocks ranged spells and attacks, and can attack foes nearby; the blade does not sleep and does not communicate to anyone other than Aramil, and like Arcor, only has base emotions. The blade stands guard over Aramil while he rests, or in strategic points. The hilt is designed with a clockwork motif; spinning gears and chains adorn the handle; the blade is nearly four feet long, and a foot wide.
Biography: Aramil was born in Valenar, the last child of King Shaeras Vadallia, the current leader of the nation. Born out of a night of passion with a Human escort, Aramil was a Half-Human/Eladrin; the third-born prince. Aramil had anything and everything he wanted, except for a claim to the throne - which, to be clear, wasn't of any interest to Aramil. As a child, Aramil took to scholarly pursuits, much quicker than anyone had anticipated. At the ripe age of three years old, Aramil started to read manuals of magic, as well as those of alchemy and machinery. His uncle, an instructor of magic at the Floating Towers of Arcanix in Aundair, taught Aramil the intricacies of magic, and in his own time, the half-elf studied martial techniques in old dusty tomes in the grand library. He sought out the best swordsman his father had in his guard, and his early years were solely based on a study of magic and sword, and how to use both of them together successfully.
Seen as a prodigy of his house, his father commissioned the best teachers his son asked for. Aramil studied in depth the art of elemental binding, and alchemy of the Fabricators Guild of House Cannith, he also learned a lot about armor and weaponsmithing from the dwarves of the Mror Holds. Aramil grew up as one of the best and brightest due to having access to extensive training and opportunity. The half-elf had learned all that his uncle, a magister from Arcanix, could teach him. Due to his natural talent and intelligence, Aramil was an accomplished fire wizard by the time he was sixteen. With an insatiable thirst for knowledge, Aramil left his noble life behind and began travelling - matters of political and courtly intrigue were of no interest to the young prince. Eventually, Aramil found his way to House Deneith's Blademarks Guild, and he enlisted as a mercenary. Here, he honed his martial expertise by mixing arcane fire and sword.
Aramil served for many years with the Blademarks, and due to his natural skills, he rose the ranks rather quickly for someone so young. Other members of the guild became untrusting, and jealous, and during a job that involved the destruction of Orcs in a small farming village, Aramil was betrayed. A member of his guild let loose a crossbow bolt while Aramil was fending off an Orc. The bolt sunk itself deep into his shoulder, and the Orc took the opportunity for a fatal blow. Aramil's left arm was sheared above the shoulder, taking a portion of his ribs along with it. Lying dead on the ground, he was found days later by an old cleric, who revived the young half-elf and stabilized his wounds, but could not bring back the missing body part. Aramil had the cleric take him to the Guilds of Cannith, where he worked with the local craftsmen to graft a new arm and shoulder from components from a deactivated Warforged. Deciding to further his knowledge on the workings of warforged, and how to improve his own arm and body, Aramil stayed with the Fabricators Guild of Cannith, further improving his knowledge.
Last edited by Greenflame : 01-25-2013 at 11:52 PM.
Full Name: Azatha ຸহಱᑞځשᎲᇆ ऩᓎፃ௦۔્ጲᖈခᙗ, daughter of ЎۏЍሌݣᔀ, deity of πࡁӯڊকᔽᗡ, bringer of ᒏШಓख़ᒅ, master of ༢Ᏹప thousand හഘ and keeper of the ᘖՙቧጒنಗЌʣҒ֧ɵወ (for short).
Gender: Female (Probably)
Age: டӫᐆധ (Looks about 18)
Alignment: Chaotic Uppity
Class: Deity of πࡁӯڊকᔽᗡ (Allegedly)
Description: A rather short girl, looking approximately human, scarcely 4.5ft/1.4m tall, wearing some sort of black gothic dress, mostly covering her pale skin, and has long, pitch-black hair, reaching nearly to her ankles, and red eyes. Those with extraordinary senses may be able to notice that while she looks and acts approximately human, she appears to actually be some sort of projection onto reality, as if she was a physical hologram, generated from somewhere far off.
Personality: Certainly full of herself, and acts as if she has immense cosmic reality-warping powers, while she instead seems to be almost entirely powerless. Only time will tell if any of her overconfidence has merit...
Power Rating (At Level 1): E (with a couple special abilities that might put her higher)
Power Absorber: Her power level can vary dramatically based on whether she has a power source available. She can absorb or metabolize a wide variety of things/energies/magic/etc. and convert it into useful power to enhance herself or create effects. However, without any source, her internal power is apparently very weak. (Note that related to this, she can also sense large power sources/discharges from a distance.)
Shadow Existence: Her form is merely a projection onto reality from her true form/source. This means that if she is killed she merely dematerializes into dust, and can return later. (She can also dematerialize at will.) However, her resurrection is usually highly inconvenient, and she loses any stored power she had saved up or was using. She is also immune to certain types of transformation/form-altering effects, as well as has certain resistances/immunities/vulnerabilities to some random common things/environments. (Most of which are pretty useless in combat.)
Current Power Level: 1 (out of ten)
Additional Abilities at Level 1: Very low power telekinesis (moving objects, like pebbles), and pyrokinesis (starting small fires), otherwise normal human strength, etc.
Equipment: Other than her attitude (and clothing), nothing.
I have left the Nexus and am no longer participating. (probably permanently)
Alias: Fritz Gender: Male Race/Species: Half-Elf Age: 26 Alignment: Neutral Good Class/Profession: Nexus Police Officer Power Rating: D Description:
-Thin build, Caucasian, short teal hair.
-Speaks with a New York dialect.
-Uniform consists of black leather jacket, with POLICE in white on the back, black trousers with a white line running down each leg, boots, a utility belt, and a peaked cap.
-Civilian attire generally consists of a white hooded jacket, blue jeans, and sneakers. Personality: Generally polite and sociable. As part of his line of work, goes out of his way to help others. Equipment:
On person when on duty:
Browning Hi-Power pistol, 9mm (13 round capacity) (Image)
Side-handle police baton
3 additional magazines
Pistol-level body armor
On person when off duty:
S&W Model 36 revolver, .38 (6 round capacity) (Image)
2 additional speedloaders
Pager (police alerts)
In police car:
Mossberg 500 shotgun (8 round capacity) (Image)
40 additional shotgun shells
'85 Dodge Diplomat (patrol car) (Image)
'90 Toyota Camry (personal car) (Image) Abilities:
-Certified pistol and shotgun operator.
-Able to cope under pressure (i.e. In the middle of a shootout) Backstory: TBD Place of Residence: Small, modest apartment in Industrial Sector, Grey Zone, Inside, Nexus
Alias: Rupert's drow name is Akorvyrtarhyrs Despet'tar and Hikiri holds the title of The Princess of the Celestial Zodiac. Gender: Male and Female Race/Species: His Male form is half Drow, half Human, and about a quarter Cyborg. His female form is half Farspawn and half Electrum dragon. Age: 108, which is like 20 in normal years. Alignment: A virtuous man with a golden heart and Chaotic Neutral. Class/Profession: Duelist/Wizard/Paladin of Diligence and Dragon Disciple/Ninja/Sorceress Power Rating: His male form is C+ and his female form is B-, but when his power is unlocked, he becomes a solid A, but at the cost of Theomachy points. Description: His male form has the ebon skin and alabaster hair of drow, but is built like a stocky, muscle-bound human. He is always smiling, except when he's not. His left eye, right arm, and left leg are all cybernetic prosthetics and he also has internal enhancements but he doesn't like to talk about them. His female form looks like a beautiful human woman for the most part. Because her father was an Electrum dragon, an extremely rare and amazing combination of all five metallic dragons, her left eye is silver, her right eye is gold, her hair is copper, the dragon wings protruding from her shoulder blades are bronze and her tail is brass. Despite having dragon wings and dragon tail and iridescent dragon scales, she is still super hot and everyone falls in love with her at first sight. Since her mother was a powerful being from beyond this normal realm, she has many traits of Farspawn: including invisible tentacles that exist on several dimensions people can't comprehend. Abilities: Rupert is pretty much the best at everything. In addition, he can turn into his female form at will. Because he has been blessed by a mighty God, Rupert's infraconscious mind can activate a special Theomachy mode that lasts until his points are drained. Backstory: To be revealed~ Miscellaneous: I think I've gone completely insane, guys.
"A chess game is divided into three stages: the first, when you hope you have the advantage,
the second when you believe you have an advantage, and the third... when you know you're going to lose!"
– Savielly Tartakower