ARGENT - A Dark Fantasy/Apocalyptic RP

[Lonewolf888978]

Celthric Wolvesbane
27
Male
Province: The Grimdosh Marauders *Tribe Trending*
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Appearance:
Celthric is a rather large man, at 6'5 with a wide muscular frame. His body is covered in scars, most of them he can't seem to remember how he got, but they vary in sizes and shapes covering him from head to toe. Most notable are the three long claw like scars across his face, and a similar pair across his chest. His skin is a lighter shade of tan, while his dark green eyes are often in a glare towards more civilized folk. His hair is a dark brown, and rather long. It grows down into his long beard, that hangs well onto his chest.
Personality:
Celthric is often in a state of joy when drinking with friends, hunting, and fighting. Those also happen to be his favorite past times. Other times he can often see being either rude or aggressive when in the absence of friends or foes, and often tries to pick fights. While traveling away from civilization he is much calmer and relaxed, and in a much more likeable mood in the wilderness.
Relations:
None at the moment
---
Biography:
When the XII Final War came about, Celthric was but a boy, yet a warrior none the less. Already completing the right of passage his father, his tribes chieftain, set in place he was right in the mix of some of the first raiding parties on the small towns and hamlets that littered the country side. By the age of twenty, he had lost count on how many lives he had taken. His father and the other tribes that made up the Grimdosh grew cocky, and attempted a raid against an army of the Abbelest . During the extremely short skirmish, many of the marauders fell in battle, along with Celthrics father. Taking charge of his tribe in the closing months of the war, Celthric fled back to the wilderness with his tribe. The others called him foolish and a coward, but Celthric proved his bravado in the field. He sought out to make his tribe to prepare and grow strong before the upcoming winter.
When the corruption came, Celthrics people stood strong while the other tribes fled. It wasn't long until his warriors wavered in the face of the chaotic faces the many monsters held, and Celthric fled to Kelda. The walled city refused the marauders entrance, and that very night his tribe was torn apart. Seeking vengeance on the corruption and willing to do whatever is needed to help end its hold on the land, including allying with the civilized folk his people once hated, causing him to join Argent.

---
Profession:
Horseman and Barbarian
Profession Details:
On horse back, Celthric is a fierce opponent, capable of firing a bow with deadly accuracy, as well as using a sword and shield effectively on his mount. While he refuses to use spears as melee weapons, claiming stabbing someone from a foot away is cowardly, he is still an effective calvary warrior.
On the ground himself, he is just as deadly. Often switching between weapons, he remains unpredictable and a threat on the battle field.
Signature Moves:
While the majority of his moves consist of being completely aggressive and seeking to overwhelm his enemies in strong precise blows, his only signature move may be his favorite way to switch to horseback to on foot. Jumping from horse back, he leaps into the fray normally tackling a foe to soft the impact of exiting a moving horse, or on the rare occasion tackle a rival horseman.
Common Gear:

Three Throwing Axes
Hunting Dagger
Hunting Bow With twelve arrows
His Leather/Iron Armor
Meanwhile he often switches between the following main weaponry.
Sword/Axe Combo
Axe / Shield Combo
Two Handed Great Axe
---
Skills:
Tracking
Skinning
Wood Crafting- A pass time he uses to carve totems and other small figurines.
Weaknesses:
Swimming/Aquatic Travel- Despite being a fierce warrior, Celthric is often afraid of traveling over large bodies of water, either rivers or lakes, or anything else he can't wade through.
Diplomacy- He would much rather punch his way out of any situation than talk his way out of it.
​

 

[Ferril]

Silyan of the White River Ishians.

Age: 36
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2​

Province/Clan: White River Clan of the Ishian Nomads
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Appearance:

​

Tall, powerfully built, and covered from head to toe in the scars of his past runins with the various dangerous beasts of the world, Silyan is, essentially, the Ideal representation of an Ishian Beastmaster. When not in combat his wardrobe often consists of some of the finest furs and leathers to be had, he would know... he caught and killed the beasts that provided the materials himself. Otherwise... such fine trappings fall to the wayside in the name of pragmatism. When going into combat he wears heavier leathers, just weighty enough to add some protection without restricting his movements too very much.

Personality: Silyan is fierce, stoic, and proud. As the eldest son of the White River's clan's chieftain, such has always been expected of him. In his duty as the next chieftain he was more than happy to endeavor to embody the virtues of his people... But, in the quieter moments, when alone or thinking about his younger brother, Sil shows a much gentler side. He is fond of the beasts that his people tame, enjoys quiet contemplation, and can, upon occasion, be found singing sorrowfully in the night. While he was always exceptionally protective of all members of his clan, his brother had always held a special place for Silyan. Now, with the entirety of his clan gone, he is devastated by the loss of his brother in these trying times.

Relations:
White River Clan [Presumed deceased]
Taliesan [Presumed deceased]​

---

Biography

The first son born to Chief Iryan of the White River clan of the Ishian Nomads, gifted with the blood borne ability of Rewrittion and an innately powerful countenance that seemed to demand respect, Silyan always seemed predestined to be the next chief of his clan. He was, most certainly, raised that way. Constantly pushed to be the best, the fastest, the strongest, the most gifted of the clans rewriters, it was no surprise that Sil developed a severe and serious personality at an early age. His youth consisted largely of training, fighting with the warriors, stalking prey with the hunters, and then helping to tame beasts with the elder rewriters. A childhood lost to the rigors of responsibility and duty. Silyan, himself, would say that nearly his entire life consisted of the same slough, day in and day out, always training, always watched, judged. Would he be a worthy leader when the time came? Would he succeed, or perhaps even surpass, his father, one of the best Beastmasters in the Clan? Such questions were constantly on the minds of the people of his clan. And on his own.

Such was his life, year after year. In time, so obsessed was he with the how of becoming cheiftan that he had long since lost sense of the why of it. That is, if he'd ever really had a handle as to why one would want to be chieftain in the first place. There was no mistaking the fact that he loved the people of his clan dearly, but he had always secretly harbored a hatred for the position of clan cheif. Why would anyone wish such responsibility on themselves? Put the lives of the clan in their own hands? In all his years he had yet to find an answer to those questions... at least, until his younger brother was born.

Silyan's mother had long since died, having barely made it past the years of his initial training before succumbing to a disease during the Winter months. She left the clan chief with only one son, and no daughters. A dangerous state of affairs for Iryan's bloodline. As was customary, Iryan took for himself a new wife. A beautiful young maiden, much beloved by the clan. Silyan himself, never once paid her much attention. After all, he was always busy. When she became pregnant, and later when she first gave birth, he still remained disinterested. It wasn't until the first time that he held his baby brother in his arms that the spark of love and understanding lit itself within him. This was the feeling, the wish, that surely drove a clan Chief. A wish to protect that which one loves, at all costs. And while he, at first, found that feeling only when watching over his new younger sibling... it soon radiated to the way that he viewed the rest of the clan and, eventually, how they viewed him.

The birth of Taliesan led to a... softening in Silyan. The urgency with which he had pursued the title of Chieftain lessened greatly, and in so doing actually helped his standing among his clan, and in his training. The stress of his goal had, for years, been weighing on him. He now pursued that goal in a more leisurely manner, taking time to speak with those in the clan who he had previously had little contact with, watching his younger brother grow, teaching young Taliesan as their father had taught Silyan in years past when their father himself was too busy. Slowly, he began to understand what it would truly mean to be chieftain... not that that time seemed to be drawing close any time soon. Their father Iryan was going strong, healthy as a beast even in his eldest years. Still, over the years Silyan had begun to take over more of the actual duties of the clan. Leading men on hunts, helping to tame some of the more powerful beasts, meeting with the elders of other tribes and representatives of the various towns and cities. Duties that, as Chieftan, Silyan would be expected to handle himself.

Thus, when the Final War broke out and many young Ishian's signed on alongside their beasts as mercenaries, Silyan was to lead the White River warriors that joined in the fray. For five, long years he and his warriors used what beasts they could capture and tame for war. Great bears, wolf packs, mountain lions... even that most evil and uncaring of beast, the badger. All were tamed and charged into battle alongside their Ishian masters. At the end of the fifth year, Silyan, and what warriors he had left, were tired. Tired of the war, and the battle between the two great nations. Their contracts now over, and with a hefty sum earned for their families, many of the Ishian Clans pulled out of the war and returned home, leaving the war to rage on without them. The White River Clan was no exception. Silyan and his warriors returned home...

Only to find the clan much changed. Taliesan, now near the age that one might become a warrior, had become nearly impossible to manage. Til's little brother had always had more of the wild streak in him than most, and some said he was closer to the beasts in nature than he was his fellow tribesmen. Without Sil there with him, Taliesan had grown increasingly uncontrollable, and when Sil returned he found his brother far more distant than he had ever been before. Five years of separation had hurt their relationship, and five years of constant war had left Silyan in serious need of his younger brother's calming influence. The Clan retreated far from the ever more disastrous areas surrounding the two warring cities, and began the long process of healing from the scars incurred by their, relatively minor, involvement in the war. Years passed. While the clan healed, Silyan worked to heal the rift between himself and his brother.

Yet the war raged on, escalating to ever greater heights as the years passed. As they healed in their self induced exile the White River Clan only got trickles of information from traders and wanderers that passed through their camps... But, eventually, word reached them of the wars ultimate, and rather final, conclusion. It was decided that the clan would return to the cities, and to the age old nomadic ways of their ancestors. That... was a mistake. A grave mistake. The land that they returned to was not the one that they had left behind years before. Marauders roamed the wild places in droves, beasts rampaged through the streets of abandoned towns, and there were few, if any, other Ishians to be found... Madness reigned, with no rhyme nor reason evident.

The reason for the chaos became abundantly clear as they neared the former city of Abbelest, a place that their clan had stayed upon many an occasion. They didn't even get anywhere near the city before they had their first, disastrous, runin with the corrupted monstrosities that now inhabited the place. The ensuing battle was... horrifying. In the dead of the night, they attacked, so deathly silent and ferocious that only a few of the fierce and proud beasts that accompanied the clan were able to detect their presence, and begin to cry out an alert. Fewer still survived the first few minutes of the battle. Those that did were, largely, the SuperAlphas of the White River beasts. Humongous wolves, bears, and other beasts that had been born or bred with an intense infusion of magical energies and tamed by groups of powerful Ishian rewriters. Those, and the skilled warriors that fought at their side, lasted no more than an hour.

Silyan himself, was at the forefront of the defense effort. Fighting alongside his father, the clan elders, the surviving beasts, including his own battle scarred companion of the long war, and the warriors who had returned with him from the war so many years before. He watched, helplessly, as each of them fell in turn. And as he fought for his own survival, monsters poured into the camp. Even now the screams of pain and terror echo in his ears... When all seemed lost he ordered his beast away from the battle, unwilling to let a longtime companion die for nothing. And then, he fell under the claws of one of the monstrosities that had taken so many others of his clan.He should have died that day, along with the clan that he should have protected. He didn't... but only by the grace of fate.

As the men around him had fallen, the corpses of his fellows buried him. Protected him, even in death, as he had not been able to protect them. Long, long after the battle had finished and the rest of his clan lay dead all about him, Silyan awoke to a rough texture running across his face. His beast, a tiger by the name of Nightshade, had returned for him after the battle, sensing that he was still alive. She dug him out of the pile of corpses that had trapped, and protected, him... And together, they began the grim task of searching for survivors. They found none, at least none that were readily evident. He found his father, dead where he fell in battle. His step-mother, torn apart at the edge of the camp. Of his brother? He found nothing. Not until he began to wander away from the camp... and heard the cry of an eagle in the distance.

Storm, Taliesan's favorite companion, came to him and alighted upon his shoulder. Its connection to his brother, seemingly severed. His grief was overwhelming, and for a time he could not bear to move. So he sat, and he cried, for the first time in memory he cried... But he knew that it would do no good. His clan was gone. His brother was gone. He was on his own... but he burned with a need for vengeance. For closure. After re-binding Storm to himself, he set out with a new goal.

The ensuing months were spent healing, he and his beasts licking their wounds, and finding out what information they could on the beasts that had attacked his clan. What they were, where they had come from... and most importantly, how to kill them. With the invitation from Argent, Silyan feels that he might be able to do all those things and more.

---
Profession: Beastmaster
Profession Details: The Ishian style of rewrition is a complex and, rather interesting, procedure. It involves the literal rewriting of the minds of living beings. Through the use of their Rewriting an Ishian can rewire the minds of beasts, writing themselves into the very core of the creatures being. As a companion or as a master. In so doing they create a connection, stronger than one could ever achieve by mundane means, a linking of minds and souls. Orders or requests can be given or recieved through a very basic form of telepathy, and a single Beast Master can have a dozen or more links on his own. Skilled enough masters can even link beasts to others, rather than themselves...

Many things affect the difficulty of rewrition. The most important, is exactly how far one must bend a creatures mind to add oneself into its instinctual hierarchy. For example, pack, pride, herd and flock animals are far more simple than animals normally known for loner behavior. Creatures of greater intelligence are also far more difficult, often requiring multiple rewriters, or a very powerful individual, to rewrite and tame.
Signature Moves: For a man of his size and physique, Silyan's areas of expertise are surprisingly... esoteric. While he can easily throw a punch or swing an axe as well as your average soldier, it is his mind and ability to command his beasts that is truly impressive. During his five years in the war he and his beasts often acted as their own individual unit, stalking through the forests and ambushing enemy supply lines and patrols, and decimating them before they even knew quite what was hitting them. Guerrilla warfare is the name of his game, and he plays it masterfully.
---
Skills: Tracking, Tactics, Whittling
Weaknesses: Long range combat of any sort, EXTREMELY (I.E. suicidally) protective of his younger brother, guilt ridden by the loss of his clan, gets along better with beasts than people.

Tamed Beasts:

Nightshade

Appearance: Nightshade is a large, heavily scarred, melanistic (Black) tiger. Her dark fur allows her to blend into the shadows easily, making her a perfect companion for Silyan and his guerrilla warfare tactics.

Personality: Having been with Silyan since his stint as a mercenary in the Final War, Nightshade is extremely attached, and in tune, with her master. She guards him, his possessions... and anything else he asks her to guard with fanatic ferocity. Otherwise, she's actually a surprisingly tolerant and calm creature. She tolerates the presence of smaller creatures, even the pestering mini-man creatures, to a much greater degree than anyone could ever expect from such a fierce and prideful creature as a tiger.

Biography: Silyan found Nightshade about two years after he joined in the war as a mercenary. At the time she was young, an adolescent just recently left to her own devices by her mother. It was easy for Silyan, with the help of a few of his fellow warriors, to use that lingering connection to rewrite himself into the core of Nightshades being. From there, her story simply coincides with Silyan's. Three long years of war left her scarred, experienced in fighting and killing humans of all kinds, but by no means broken in body nor spirit. She followed him back to his clan , where she lived a much more... sedentary lifestyle for the remainder of the war. She hunted with Silyan and his brother, slept curled up by the fire with Silyan and, usually, several of the clan's children, and otherwise lazed her days away.

When the Clan returned to the war torn lands, and was attacked, she was one of the first beasts to leap to the defense of the clan. Her experience in warfare allowed her to survive the initial encounter, and Silyan's order for her to flee allowed her to survive the rest. But she returned, as she always would, to find her master. And she did, saving him from death again. Since then she has been at his side almost constantly, providing him comfort and stability in the wake of the destruction of his Clan.

Special Ability: A Shadow In the Night: As a melanistic tiger Nightshade is as black as... well, night. It is nearly impossible to see her in the dark or in deep shadows, and she takes full advantage of that fact when stalking prey, human or otherwise.

Grizzled Veteran: Nightshade fought alongside Silyan and his fellow Ishian's for three years straight, three years of fighting humans of all shapes, sizes, and skill levels has given her a healthy understanding of how most people fight, and an intelligence and understanding of war and battle fary beyond that which one would expect from a beast of the wilds..

Storm

​

Appearance: Storm is a beautiful Golden Eagle, a huge bread of raptor with wicked talons. He has few distinguishing features aside from a large brown patch on the back of his neck and a single white diamond patch on his forehead.

Personality: Haughty and prissy. That is all that need be said about the pest. Silyan's brother loved the bird dearly, and spoiled it far more than he should have. It doesn't like most people, has a tendency to bite those that annoy it, and spends far too much time preening its feathers for Silyan's liking. Still, the bird was his brother's favorite companion, and if for no other reason, Silyan loves him for that.

Biography: Silyan knows very little about the birds past or how his brother came to have it in his possession, all he knows is that when he returned from war the bird and Taliesan were already nearly inseparable. During the clans time away from the war, it was with Storms help that Silyan and Taliesan hunted, the bird spotting prey and taking down the smaller creatures, while the brothers and Nightshade handled larger game.

After the massacre of the White River Clan, Silyan searched for his brother desperately. In the end, he found nothing... but Storm, Storm found him. Together with the tiger Nightshade the group have survived.

Special Ability: Eyes In The Sky- Through a telepathic link Silyan can give and receive simple messages, such as general directions towards an enemy, whether or not to attack, levels of danger, etc.

Dive Bomb- Ever get hit by a ball of feathers and talons flying faster than most horses can gallop? No? Good. You probably wouldn't find it pleasant. Storm has been known to blind men and beasts with a precise swipe of his claws, and pluck smaller item or creatures right up and off into the air.

So sorry for adding another rewriter to the ever growing list of them >_<

 

[Jakers]

@Jakers I have just a few questions. I was interested in knowing what you had in mind for the creatures of the corruption. By this I mean their physical appearances. I wasn't sure if their description was something you wanted to save for the I.C, but I figured since they're a big deal people would have already known as much as they can about them. Of course if you already have something in mind for that there's no problem.

Also, How are our characters going to be grouped? There are quite a few players who've shown interest already and it would be kinda clustered for everyone to go off on the same mission at once, so I'm wondering if you plan to perhaps have characters be grouped in different teams or something along that line.

Finally, do you have a specific date in mind for when we go live with the R.P?

For the first question, I can't really answer it, as there are few people who've actually seen corrupted beings and lived to tell about it, and there are tons of varities of corrupted beings. People are way too scared to 'study' them and gather info, but in general, from little glimpses people have seen from corrupted beings, they seem to have half-melting, fetid, brown flesh, with some sort of a deep purple aura coming from them as they walk.

Secondly, I'm estimating we're going to get around 12-15 players, so 3 groups of 5 might be the best idea in most of the missions, with my own NPC's filling in the spots if we have an odd number such as 13. It'll usually be up to you guys on how you want to disperse your 'squad', and who the groups of people should be, to best fit the varied mission objectives.

Finally, I plan to bring up the OOC on the 27th. I'll announce the date of the IC going live in the OOC, as I've got a lot to write down there.

Celthric Wolvesbane​

Celthric looks great! Nice choice of picture by the way; I definitely wouldn't want to spill that dude's drink. His upbringing and fighting style should mesh in nicely with the rest of the group; it's nice to have a good ol' warrior in the mix. I already PM'ed you about it, but yeah, the tribe you made up is good by me.

I can't see any issues worth bringing up, though, I have a minigame for you. Can you spot the one word in his biography that isn't in the same font as the others? That seriously isn't something you need to change, it's a legit challenge for you, as I'm surprised I saw it myself. Either way, consider yourself ready to join!

The fact that you listed his equipment reminded me I should probably have added in the CS... ah well. I'll likely find a time for people to describe the equipment they have on them at the moment when the OOC goes up. If anyone reading this wants to edit in the equipment your character currently has on them, that'd be cool by me.

Silyan​

Silyan looks badass and ready to go! I'm a really big fan of his picture; it really depicts his character. The bio is pretty sweet, too, and I'm looking forward to seeing his brother's CS if it comes out! But anyways, consider Silyan accepted.

By the way, did you decide which animal you were going to have tamed between the two of you? I want to make sure I didn't miss it in the CS somewhere, or if you're still deciding.

And don't worry about adding another rewriter to the bunch. You already told me he was going to be a rewriter many days ago, it makes sense how he learnt it in his lore, and we're actually getting a decent amount of pure-professions now, so that's good. I was just worried the cast was going to be literally ALL rewriters, which would just be... eh.

 

[Ferril]

@Jakers Yeah, we decided that we were going with Mahariels eagle. Silyan himself is going to have a pair of mountain lions I'm thinking, or any other creature that he manages to tame along the way. And Mahariel's character isn't going to be a rewriter, instead he's just going to be bonded to the Eagle and unable to tame any other creatures himself.

 

[Lonewolf888978]

Celthric looks great!

I can't see any issues worth bringing up, though, I have a minigame for you. Can you spot the one word in his biography that isn't in the same font as the others? That seriously isn't something you need to change, it's a legit challenge for you, as I'm surprised I saw it myself. Either way, consider yourself ready to join!

The fact that you listed his equipment reminded me I should probably have added in the CS... ah well. I'll likely find a time for people to describe the equipment they have on them at the moment when the OOC goes up. If anyone reading this wants to edit in the equipment your character currently has on them, that'd be cool by me.

Thank you! Probably one of my favorite characters I made in a while, might expand on his back story some and gear once the actual OOC is up, and include his horse. and I found the word xD I'll change it tonight on my computer

@everyone If anyone would like to start working on relations let me know!

 

[ERode]

So muskets are a thing in this world, but the players won't access it, as they are the domain of secret city-states to be discovered later on in the story? Or what?

 

[Jakers]

So muskets are a thing in this world, but the players won't access it, as they are the domain of secret city-states to be discovered later on in the story? Or what?

When I said 'they're a thing', I meant that there are very few in the world created by certain geniuses of mechanics and such, but not enough have been made/commissioned for use for them to be a common sight. If you yourself would like to own a musket, you'd have to be something like an inventor's son/daughter, or an inventor yourself. Inventors tend to be in The Binnes, or lurk and tinker within Drokk.

 

[ERode]

How effective would you think these muskets are then?

 

[Jakers]

How effective would you think these muskets are then?

It depends on what you want your character to be, as there's no actual combat system, so I can't say: 'Okay, it does [X] damage with [X] hit chance'. But unless your enemy is wearing a seriously powerful helmet, a musket shot to the head isn't really something they can argue with. Whilst arrows can sometimes bounce off basic helmets or not fully penetrate the skull, musket bullets are a lot more reliable.

When it comes to VS. corrupted, how effective they'll be is unknown.

They're seriously loud though (stealth won't be an option), with a high reload time - even moreso than a crossbow, so if you get caught off-guard without one in the chamber, your enemy likely won't give you the break you need to reload. The range is high but the accuracy isn't reliable enough to do proper, long-range snipes or anything like that.

They'll basically be powerful, but nothing revolutionary. Muskets shine more when they're used in large numbers, not by one person, but that isn't a thing in this world... yet.

If you meant how effective the muskets produced in this world compared to IRL muskets are, probably about the same, though I'm open to more interesting designs for them that don't go on the verge of OP/unfair.

 

[ERode]

That's fine. My intention is to go gun kata anyways. XD

So, basically, higher accuracy, range, and penetrating power, in exchange for slower reloads and no stealth?

 

[Jakers]

That's fine. My intention is to go gun kata anyways. XD

So, basically, higher accuracy, range, and penetrating power, in exchange for slower reloads and no stealth?

Yep! Also comes with major surprise factor for 90% of opponents if they watch their friend seemingly get blown up by a magic stick. X)

If you're going gun kata, expect to fire one shot for each fight, unless your enemy/enemies foolishly give you time to pop another into the chamber. The local smith could probably help you out with making your invention if your char manages to survive to the higher ranks, too.

 

[ERode]

"Here comes the BOOM!"
Elodie Maya
19/Female/5'3
The Binnes

---

Personality
Driven, intelligent, and open-minded, Elodie is a sharp-minded individual who, despite her environment, refuses to give up on her ideals and dreams. Meticulous, years spent on experiments and adjustments have given her a habit of speaking out random measurements or amounts aloud, and everything she does seems to be a race against a deadline, even when there is no reason for her to rush. For her, what's important in war isn't morale or valor, but logistics, and she loves to drown herself in facts. To Elodie, information isn't merely a tool, but it is also candy, something sweet that sounds beautiful when it rolls out of her tongue. Enthusiastic to the point of being occasionally stifling, she's definitely a chatty person, with a particular liking towards word play. The little scientist girl doesn't really care about feelings or romance or whatever else, not when there's things to be learned and facts to share.

For all her communication, documentation, and decision-making skills, however, Elodie is also a truly honest person. As someone who prefers the naked truth, she finds etiquette and tact to be wastes of time. Bald-faced criticism may hurt, obviously, but it's also way easier to improve. If simple machines can make it obvious when you messed up during construction, then surely humans should be the same way, right? Maybe it's arrogance on her part, and maybe she's made her fair amount of enemies with such a viewpoint, but, as always, Elodie simply doesn't care.

Her end goal is too grand, and her life is too short. Taking social detours is pointless.

Relations
WIP

---

Biography
Daughter of a widower, Elodie Maya's childhood was one spent in her father's laboratory in the Binnes. An inventor and a handyman, Garm took the task of raising up his child in his own hands and homeschooled her, teaching her to both appreciate the world and to question it. Sucked in by his fascination of science and of creating things with merely knowledge and his own hands, Elodie saw her father as a hero, something that the rest of the world didn't share. In a place like the Binnes, where plenty were talented with swordplay or gifted with power of Rewrite, few actually cared about what Garm made.

A sword made of a lighter alloy? Just rewrite a better one instead of spending six months.

A portable lever that made for more efficient methods of hoisting up heavy objects? Just rewrite it to become lighter.

A combination of chemicals that created a powerful explosive reaction? Just rewrite an explosion.

In a city where magic existed in abundance, tools that helped those without talents were simply…pointless. And yet, regardless of how he was ostracized, Garm's determination never wavered, and Elodie swallowed her hatred of Rewriters in order to follow his path. She had few friends, but she didn't care. Her father's notes, the books in her personal library, those were all she needed. Even as the neighbors talked about how he selfishly squandered his family's fortune, even as nobles joked about how Garm must have been Meadow-born in regards to how his inventions would only benefit the dim-witted weaklings of that backwater pig pen, Elodie didn't care.

She found out at a very early age that friends didn't matter if one had passion.

When the XII Final War broke out, Garm suddenly became much more popular. Though mocked within the Binnes, he was offered a job underneath Abbelest's War Technology Division. They have took note of the explosive reactions Garm has created, and wished to weaponize it, giving them a proper answer to the destructive rewritions of Kelda's mages. It was a job opportunity that Garm couldn't let slip, and soon, the father and the daughter moved to the capital of Abbelest, joining a team of other smart individuals and getting to work.

Years passed by in that relatively safe environment, and soon, results were showing up. Bombs that could be slung by trebuchets and wreck fiery havoc or explosive ruin. Siege weapons designed to force open gates instead of simply smash them. And soon, prototypes of firearms began to show up within certain regiments of Abbelest's army. With a thunderous salvo, they would tear the very wings off Keldan knights, sending the magic-reliant fools plummeting unto the ground. Though still in developmental phases, it looked like the Final War was swinging in Abbelest's favor.

Then, at night, Garm was assassinated, throat slit in his bedroom.

The guards were found dozing, drugged by a powerful soporific poison.

And, like that, the breakthrough Lady Celessa expected never happened. The War Technology Division, without a project leader, soon crumbled and was disbanded. Elodie, without even a father, found herself swept out of the castle, clutching her father's notes, boiling with hatred at the fact that she couldn't even figure out who her father's killer was. A slit throat? Literally anyone could have done that.

The next years went by in a breeze. She left Abbelest during the riots against Lady Celessa's rule, and floated from city to city alone, narrowly escaping the clutches of highwaymen and bandits many times over. Eventually, Elodie settled in the Meadows, sitting the war out, hoping that there would be order restored soon, so she could have a clear space to figure out what to do with her father's notes, her inheritance, and her life.

But order wasn't restored, and it only became worst.

Abbelest and Kelda were both in ruins, corruption taking over and rotting away at the structure of the world. Bandits became more and more frequent, ensuring that nowhere was safe. Everyone was out to fend for themselves, seeking salvation one way or the other. She almost crumbled underneath that pressure, almost decided that it would be better off just to jump off a cliff, but she didn't

She recalled her father's drive, her father's determination, her father's passion.

And she inherited that.

A monster-slaying weapon that even a child could use. That was what she would aspire towards. That was what would revolutionize the world.

And when Argent, ran by the King that must have ordered her father's assassination, held out a hand towards the daughter of Garm Maya, Elodie put aside her meaningless, self-destructive emotions and accepted.

---

Profession
Tinkerer
Elodie is a tinkerer, someone who improves her abilities through science rather than magic. Wielding the latest prototype of the firearm that her father had died producing, she dubs it 'Thundercrack', for the roar it makes whenever she pulls the trigger. Each singular bullet is pointed, and the awesome recoil of the weapon requires her to wear special equipment underneath in order to absorb the shock and prevent her from dropping it, while gloves give her enough grip to hold onto her weapon even if it's slick with water or mud or whatever other annoying environmental factor. Elodie has approached her physical training in much the same way, creating a variety of weight resistance machines that tones her body much more effectively than simple logs would. She may not be the strongest, or the fastest, or the most durable, but she is getting there, and she is getting there quickly.

Right now, she's also in the drafting stages of a spring-loaded piledriver, to assist with melee combat or with breaching fortified doors.

Signature Moves
Two Birds, One Stone
It's really just the application of simple geometry, combined with the absurd destructive power of Thundercrack. With one bullet, Elodie can take down multiple targets, regardless of whether or not they're armored.

Thunderhammer
Also not much of a signature move, Thunderhammer just takes full advantage of the heavy materials and heft of the gunstock in order to convert a long-ranged weapon into a bludgeoning weapon. Can't do that with a flimsy-ass bow, can you? Of course, Elodie has been looking at affixing some sort of pointed object onto the front end of Thundercrack as well, but those plans are secondary to improving reload time for her weapon.

---

Skills
Weapon Maintenance
Steady Hands
Learning
Chemistry
Tinkering

Weaknesses
Weakling
Single Shot
Socially Apathetic
Emotionally Repressed​

 

[Jakers]

Elodie Maya​

​

Elodie looks good! There are some things that could be changed right now, but in general, she's a unique character welcome to the cast. Now that we have someone from The Binnes, we've officially got at least one person from each of the main cities, which is good.

Firstly, her firearm firing massive shots is a bit too powerful for a starting character. One of Thundercrack's bullets would just punch through armour and shield and completely destroy/incapitate some of the more powerful allies I have in mind, making them obsolete. The way she fights gives me a bit of concern on how her initial 1v1 between her and a PC is going to go, but if the bullets are made smaller, the enemy has a chance to block them at least. Or she might just miss. Whatever the two of you decide in the collab.

Just firing standard shots alone is already a technological marvel for this era, so for now, whilst Elodie's welcome to keep the extra-penetrating side of the bullets, the shots are going to have to be normal sized (or a little larger than normal sized) just so they can actually be blocked if the armour/shield is tough enough, and they can still keep their great power, though she'll have to aim a bit more precisely. As compensation for this change, you could also have her start with a bayonet on her gun that doesn't hinder reload time.

The picture is also a bit too futuristic for the current era; sort of steampunky, actually. The reason this is a bit of a problem is because I already told someone they can't go for a steampunk character. However, you don't have to change it, as you probably had a lot of trouble getting a pic like that. Whilst her appearance is going to be the same, and her clothes are still going to be swanky, her gun won't be as futuristic-looking (though still impressive), and she won't have that thing on her hand in the IC.

tl;dr - Just make the shots of Thundercrack smaller and you're good to go. The bio is unique and pretty jammin', and it's always good to have unique chars in the mix.

 

[DocDec]

Aaaand just saw the blood banner!

Damn, I wish that was the one that introduced me to this.

 

[Jhuton]

Lol. I've already seen two Argent banners and I haven't even seen the blood one. There are a lot of banners out there

 

[RedArmyShogun]

That's a rather interesting bio, also @Jakers if you see of ways to improve my bio, please pm it to me, well unless its fine now.

I have been having problems with my insomnia the last 4 days, so yeah..

 

[DocDec]

Sir Ungard Strathmoor, "Ungard the Undying"
37/Male/6"9
Abbelest
---
Appearance:

[OR JUST IMAGINE A HEIDE KNIGHT]
Personality:

Sir Ungard is not a sociable man, first and foremost. To the soldiers he fought alongside and lived with in Abbelest in the final few years of the war, he probably said an average of ten words a day to. He's unsociable, very, very easy to irritate, and still manages to be rather scary even when he's trying not to be, which made him rather unpopular with his comrades despite his abilities.

In addition, the extent he's had to use his Rewriting to keep himself going in battle, and the pain that goes along with it, has taken a toll on Ungard's mind. He's been shot, stabbed, slashed, hacked, bludgeoned, burned, and lashed more times than he can remember. He's killed hundreds and seen thousands die. It takes a toll on a man, after a while. All in all, he's not the most stable of fellows.

Relations: Probably none, unless others are soldiers from Abbelest.
---
Biography:
Sir Ungard Strathmoor was born to a doomed house in a doomed city. House Strathmoor, one of Abbelest's foremost houses of martial prowess and known for its ability to produce military elite, was overjoyed to learn that the large young man born of one of their sons was a Rewriter. They'd been worried, as their last few had not been, and those that they had within their walls were aging, making it possible the Strathmoor technique of Rewriting would die out.

With this knowledge, the elders of the House sent the boy to begin training immediately. He was schooled in the ways of the blade, and in the ways of Rewriting customary to his house-the ability to shrug off pain and grievous injury for inhuman periods of time. Thus, as is customary, the trainers of the boy used real weapons in their drills. He was hurt, sometimes seriously, but he grew stronger for it, and indeed, it seemed by the end that House Strathmoor had produced their finest product of invincibility yet.

And then the war began. And he'd never felt more ready for anything in his life.

Sir Ungard, as he was often called due to the rather large amounts of "Sir Strathmoors" there were running around, performed in battle like nothing seen before. He was a juggernaut, a titan, a walking mountain of flesh, iron, and bone that crushed everything before it. He was hacked with axes, hit by arrows and javelins, stabbed with swords all across his body. According to some reports, in three different battles he was completely set on fire.

And he just kept on fighting.

Despite his schooling, Sir Ungard had never really been a truly great swordsman. But it didn't really matter here. He seemingly didn't need skill, didn't need finesse. He'd walk into battle with a sword in one hand and a mace in the other and absolutely obliterate more skilled, faster enemies after weathering their blows like no normal human ever could.

Despite his performance, the injuries did indeed begin to take a toll on the massive knight. Indeed, after certain pitched battles, Ungard would fall to the ground, overcome with pain and exhaustion after shutting it out of his system for so long, and lay there for days on end. His legs, after suffering so many wounds, didn't work the same as they used to, giving Ungard his signature fast limping gait. His skin, even now, is a mess of burns and scars, looking more like a weathered set of leather armor beneath his full plate than anything else.

And then it became common knowledge that Abbelest was losing the war.

It wasn't even a surprise at this point, really. Not for the others. They'd seen their men dying by the thousands. They'd known this was coming. Ungard, however, didn't. He seemed to believe, in those last few battles, that if he fought hard enough, if he kept on going, if he just kept killing those goddamn Keldians, he could win the war himself. He could deliver glory upon his House and death to their enemies and walk right up to the gates of Kelda and cast them down with his bare hands and rip King Rhyzen's fucking head off for doing this to his people.

But he couldn't, and he didn't, and after a while even he began to see that he wouldn't.

Soon, his city was burning, his House was fallen, his family was dead, his home was a haven for monsters and abominations, and Sir Ungard the Undying was reduced to a robber knight frequenting the roads of the countryside. That is, until someone came to him with a letter, and the letter opened his eyes to a way to save his home. At least, what was left of it...
---
Profession:
Berserker Knight
Ungard is a letter of blood, a savage warrior who uses his Rewrition to go into a deadened fury of slashing and smashing men about with his weapons. It's not a perfect technique, and it's not pretty or graceful, but it goddamn works. Ungard is in no way a skilled warrior, basically only knowing how to hold his sword and mace and how to swing, but his insane brute strength and immunity to pain counteracts this.

Particularly grievous injury, such as decapitation, bisection, an arrow through the eye and into the brain, breaking of the neck, and other such wounds, would put an end to Ungard immediately, without him being able to stop it. However, he can basically ignore other such injuries for very long periods of time, up to and including being run through with a sword in a non-vital area.

Signature Moves:

Ironclad Jig
Oftentimes in battle, when completely surrounded by enemy soldiers, Ungard was observed to spin in place furiously, as if in some kind of mad dance, mace and sword held out to his sides, batting away weapons and slicing/bludgeoning opponents with wild abandon. He was often hopelessly dizzy after such an attack, but luckily for him, everyone around him was already dead.

Pincushion
When facing a particularly skilled or fast opponent, Ungard would often wait, his guard down, facing the man or woman. When they'd strike, he'd lean into it, taking the full force of the attack and, incidentally, catching the other person's weapon within his body. Dropping his sword, he'd wrap his gauntleted fingers around their arm, and, having them trapped, crack their skulls open with his mace. Ungard often used this technique on elite Keldian troops, who were hopelessly out of his league in terms of skill with blades.
---
Skills:
Not many, though horseback riding, drinking, and wrestling were activities Ungard would partake in when he wasn't fighting.
Weaknesses:
He's hopeless with words and persuasion (though not intimidation), scarier than the bogeyman, deformed from all his fighting, half-crippled, and moderately insane after all he's been through.
------------

​

I AM SO READY.​

 

[Jakers]

Ungard Strathmoor​

Ungard the local tank, manufactured in Abbelest, is ready to roll out and squish some people who dare stand in his way. His lore is balling, and his drastic weaknesses make up for his drastic strengths, making him pretty interesting overall. Whilst reading his lore, I just thought, 'YEAH.' Like that 'YEAH.' when you're reading something progressively epic; nice writing. ...Uh. Anyway. There's just one lil' thing though.

So, as cool as Heide Knights from Dark Souls 2 were, I've already stopped people from using pictures because the pics had gear from existing video games. It's a shame because the pic fits Ungard so well... sort of makes me wish I'd never known about Dark Souls 2 so I wouldn't know. (DS1 and DS3 are where it's at anyway). But yeah, sorry, but you'll need to change that. Apart from that though, consider Ungard in the roster!

That gives us 13 players so far, and it's expected this number might go up to 15 (as I know there are 2 people that will likely be making character sheets). 20 is definitely going past the limit of what I can manage, so I might have to slap a [CLOSED] on the thread if we hit 16. If you've just been stalking this thread, you'd better act now, or it might be too late.

 

[DocDec]

Completely fine! I'll change the pic later today.

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Doing some edits to my history to make it better based on some suggestion I had, well hopefully better, pretty sleep deprived atm.