Champions of Celdaera OOC [Aenimus x Slade]

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Aenimus, Jun 8, 2016.

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  1. The war is on the brink of conflict as major factions begin to build momentum and extend their reach. From the north, the kingdom of Veiltôndr and other small provinces has already fallen to the hordes of the Broodmother, a mysterious sorceress who forges contracts with greater daemons. Rising with the dawn is the Chastefell Campaign, campaigning themselves as the righteous band who will see the world to light and a new beginning free of strife. While some of their troupes are unaffiliated from any one deity, a number of higher-ups have come to contribute their actions to the will of Davos, the god of Sun and all things just.

    While less concerned with leading the world one way or another, there exists another band that permeates far more spread throughout the world than either. Dodgers extend fairly well throughout the globe and, despite rumors that they are greedy scum who steal and deal in information and pick off the innocent on highways. No one has truly pinned down exactly what the truth is except the Dodgers and their friends themselves. Regardless, their name is big enough that they are worth mention in the day and age.

    Today, though, these concerns are far from our Champions and their Captains, who find themselves amongst the desert states. The desert states, reliant on trade from the north and east find themselves blocked due to recent trade-bans from foreign power struggles. The desert states have called a summit of the states to determine a plan of action to solve their problems… And it seems that their only solution may lead to war. But with who?
    #1 Aenimus, Jun 8, 2016
    Last edited: Jun 9, 2016
  2. Name: Judas “the Damned”

    Judas (open)

    Bio: Judas as a young man was employed in the private army of a notorious Warlord named Warlock “The Grimm”. Warlock through his 60 years of conquest had carved out a sizable territory in the southern coastal hemisphere and was the only real power in the region. Judas was a native of one of the many coastal villages and was impressed into joining Warlock’s army of Mercenaries and Slaves. He quickly showed talents in warfare and earned small positions of leadership by displaying his capacity for ruthlessness and executed anyone who dared resist Warlock’s regime. Within five years his talents merited him a promotion to Captain, one out of five in fact. Judas would gain worldwide infamy as Warlock began a new campaign out of his region and into more civilized kingdoms in the North. Though Judas was the weakest of the five Captains, his capacity for atrocity was unmatched as he contributed to the burning of entire cities and the subjugation of smaller, weaker nations to slavery. His risky, headstrong decision to fight on the front-lines only increased his reputation as a fearsome and loathsome minion that needed to be stopped. But the opportunity to slay Judas would never come.

    At the same time as Warlock ravaged the north with his military campaign, he was also undertaking a secretive colonization process on a series of islands off the coast of his domain. The military presence there was almost non-existent as the islands were comprised of nothing but slaves digging into an excavation site. Within these fairly useless Islands was a Temple that Warlock was desperately searching for. Ancient documents, stone tablets and manuscripts that Warlock had amassed told of an long forgotten, mythical Temple that kept in prison a terrible power, and he sought to harness that power to expand his might across all of Celdaera.

    Within a few years the Temple was finally discovered and after a few more years was fully dug out of the excavation site: a total of seven years spent digging on the islands and the full-scale war that was ravaging the North. Judas was recalled from the front lines to join Warlock personally on his journey through the Temple. What happened inside is a mystery to all but Judas. All that is known is that Warlock was murdered by Judas and Judas emerged from the Temple tainted.

    In truth, what Warlock was searching for was the infamous “Bathhouse” that originated from a little known myth that was known by only a small minority of scholars and even then all that was known was that whoever bathed in it would be given great powers but at a great cost. When Warlock released the lever to start the flow, what came out was not water, but a black, filthy sludge. It was at this moment that Judas, power-hungry and ambitious, stabbed his elderly master in the back and snapped his neck. He then bathed in the sludge.

    When he exited the temple he was a permanently changed man. Tainted by a demonic aura of evil and filth that would leave all in his presence with feelings of fear, apprehension, discomfort and general unease. His personality had also changed. His moral conscious had suddenly jump-started over his experience in the bathhouse and with a heavy, guilty heart he organized the slaves on the island into a raggedy army of men with wooden spears and mounted an offensive against Warlock’s domain. By the time the remaining captains had figured out what had happened, Judas already liberated a sizable portion of the coast and built up a impressive army. The Northern campaign collapsed as the Captains banded together and retreated to deal with Judas’s insurrection. What followed was a two year war that would briefly stun the rest of Celdaera. Judas was outnumbered and his inexperienced army was up against a far larger force that had been fighting for almost a decade. His armies hid in the thick jungles of the coastline and Judas attacked key supply points of the armies. Forcing the Captains to make more and more desperate attacks. Finally one last decisive battle was pitched against the backdrop of the now burned out jungles. A four pronged attack by the Captains against Judas’s army was planned to finally crush him. Every other nation believed Judas would not survive and began to build up their armies in anticipation for the Captains renewed offensive in the North. But something extraordinary happened.

    Judas won and completely broke the remnants of Warlock’s forces. He faced all four Captains simultaneously and cut them down. What was left of Warlock’s vast armies degenerated into bandit tribes that nevertheless still invaded the north but were crushed quickly.

    However, the former domain of Warlock was completely in ruin. Crop failure had led to starvation and disease and whole cities had been completely wiped out. The total population had declined significantly. Rather than try to rebuild the Southern coast, Judas took his army as well as the remaining citizens on an exodus through the desert, finding an oasis that could support farming and founded a small, isolated community. The rest of the world looked with suspicion, speculation and even hatred. Many to this day have still not forgotten the Judas who killed thousands in sieges and raids as a Captain for Warlock and his current reputation still suffers because of his “demonic aura” which has resulted in the moniker “The Damned”. Still no one has bothered Judas as the patch of desert he and his community occupies is small and fairly insignificant with its isolating nature making Judas somewhat forgotten in all but the history books.

    Name: Stanford

    Stanford (open)

    Bio: Stanford originally was born in the Northern Kingdom of Veiltôndr. Hailing from a noble family of knights and warriors, Stanford joined their ranks as a squire and became a knight in his mid-20’s. Stanford’s military career, really his whole early life could be described as “reliable but nothing noteworthy.” He was involved in the wars of conquest with Warlock the Grimm and fought dutifully but once again, never did anything that would be considered extraordinary. So when he was captured and enslaved by Warlock’s forces, no real attempt was made to ransom him back. He was simply another casualty of the wars. He was shipped to a series of Islands off the coast of Warlock’s domain where his strong body would prove useful for the next two years of back breaking labor he would endure.

    When Warlock was murdered and Judas began to free and rouse the slaves to join his army, Stanford stood out among the rest on account that he was one of the few on the Island with extensive military experience. He quickly became Judas’s right hand man and despite Stanford’s animosity towards his former enemy not only because of Judas’s actions during the war but because of the demonic aura, Judas proved personable enough for Stanford to eventually looked past it and the two became friends. His loyalty to Judas was sealed when the poorly equipped army led it’s first assault on the shores of Warlock’s dominion and Judas was the first off the boat and charged into battle, yelling for the others to fight for freedom. Over the next two years, Stanford would be essential in organizing the rebel army as it continued to grow. Judas rewarded Stanford for his loyalty by keeping him as the second in command even when more qualified military men began to flock to Judas. It proved to be a good decision as Stanford’s hit and run tactics combined with his ability to hold out in a town or fortress when the situation demanded it became utter misery for Warlock’s forces and the remaining Captains.

    During the final battle, Stanford proved critical in it’s success. Himself and the rest of the army dug in and taunted the massive armies of the Captains to come after them, holding off the majority of the enemy while Judas dueled with the four captains. With the Captains dead at Judas’s feet, Stanford gave the order to charge and route the army. Winning a battle that was considered un-winnable. An unexpected outcome, considering Stanford’s dull history with Veiltôndr.

    Name: Milo

    Milo (open)

    Bio: Milo was only a child when Grimlock started his Conquest of the North. An orphan with a natural talent with a bow at a young age, Milo supported himself by hunting and tracking. Even when he was a young teenager and Judas’s rebellion broke out he didn’t participate and fled further into the jungle to escape the armies and hunt in isolation. When the insurrection ended in Judas’s victory he quickly joined up with the group as they made their journey through the desert. Milo mad an impression on the entire traveling community. He was energetic, willful, mischievous and constantly flirting with every pretty girl in his sight. Despite not being a part of the army he helped to ward off raiders and bandits with his sharpshooting talents and his skills in tracking game prevented more than a few hungry nights when traveling the hostile desert.

    His biggest contribution was helping to found the place they would eventually call home. Judas had stumbled onto the Oasis by luck, but despite the pleas of the group, Judas desired to leave thinking that the water was not enough to sustain the group permanently. Milo, within a few days scoured the many miles of the Oasis and soon knew the area better than anyone else (and still does). Confirming his suspicions, there was a massive natural underground reservoir of water that could be used for farming, drinking and bathing. On reporting this to Judas, their leader reversed his decision and made the Oasis their new home. Milo was soon promoted as a Captain, despite his young age and much to the surprise of the entire community.
    #2 Slade, Jun 8, 2016
    Last edited: Jun 9, 2016

    • During the siege of Warlock, the Jarl of Veiltôndr held out in Taeviel’s Hall through the worst of it. He was on and years and for the most part, he had set the task upon his sons to defend the country. Six in all, they felt they would much have the battles in hand when Warlock’s men advanced. They were not hardy northmen used to the unforgiving winters they endured. That had been all that staved off the first push and gave them time to bolster their armies against Warlock’s captain, Judas and the front lines.

      It was a godsend to the sons of Frijart who served upon the battlefield when Judas was withdrawn from the battles for unknown reasons. It sent a rippling effect of morale through their troops that let them slowly push back against the encroaching invaders. Tahlia, the third daughter of the fifth son, still a small child at the time, remembers the tears of joy in her father’s eyes as he received news a specific town (her mother’s home village) was recaptured.

      While he received little to no recognition for his efforts, he played a key role far from the front lines as tactician. He relayed key information through various means, always updating maps and positions and plotting their next attack. However, it added more than a number of grey hairs to his beard as he was always sure the next battle would be their last… It was a shock, though, when suddenly the war turned for an absurd reason as Judas for unknown reasons turned sides. Tahlia always heard whispers that he was a mad daemon, finally turned against his master.

      In the aftermath of the war, they attempted to rebuild. For the royals, that meant returning to their homes and organizing the country once more. For the unrecognized heroes of the war who were so far down the line of succession, the country turned a blind eye toward them. Of the royal family, their estates were of the most sparse and comely. Their treasury or meat stores were never overflowing. Overall, they came across as nothing more than overly glorified nobles.

      It was not that Tahlia minded in her youth. It was a happy life in a comfortable home with plenty of land to explore. She got into plenty of mischief even as her parents began to encourage her and her sisters to pursuit activities to hone their bodies and mind as well as busy their freetime. Her eldest sister, Meirta, found herself occupied as a trapper. Her other sister, Janette, was encouraged into priestly activities to stem her own wild activities, but it seemed the best way she knew to find any god was by making men cry out for them.

      She was found to have a knack for magic, though, and so was encouraged to study with a tudor. She was far from an ideal student, daydreaming in most classes and finding herself only truly fascinated by stories of legends, myths, and the magic itself. She picked up on the basics well enough, but the teacher was ever so boorish and she did little to excel under his tutelage.

      Should the story end with her becoming a great magician under his crooked birdlike nose and beady eyes, she would have been happy and glad to know her family and countrymen were all still fine. Alas, still in her young teens came a day when the Broodmother’s minions attacked, though they did not realize it at the time.

      Those at the estate assumed it a raid at the hands of the remnants of The Damned’s men. It was not unheard of. There were occasional remnants that got rowdy and banded together to attack here and there before being stamped out once more. It was nothing like the destruction of that night. She scarcely could recall the details aside from the blood and utter destruction around her. It was chaos and there was little she could do but conjure a cheap illusion to mask her own presence til the attack had run its course and the fiends had moved on.

      It had been all she could do to keep from breaking down on the spot. She knew she needed to leave before they got back. She did not know what she was going to do or what she would do to survive. All she knew is that she needed to move and keep ahead. She gathered a quick back of supplies and struck out from home.

    • Tahlia knows not what Oebrym truly is nor his age or even from where he hails. All she knows is that he is a patient man of magic and the land. Once or twice, she vaguely recalls seeing a vaguely catlike tail darting out from his robes, twitching back and forth and fangs glinting in his mouth but she cannot be sure. Perhaps if she could get him to truly smile more than a small knowing smirk.

      That said, Oebrym met Tahlia on her journey south during the fall of Veiltôndr. Her riches had been stolen, her food had long since been eaten and she was starving and on her last two legs, lost and alone. She had tried following a road that had been destroyed by winter and overgrown by spring. Seeing desperation in her near feral eyes, he took her in and nursed her back to health at his hovel of a home.

      He noticed a number of things there. Her magic was raw, unrefined and dangerous. She had come to rely upon it of recent to power her way through a number of dangerous encounters and situations and he could not allow her to continue to travel alone in such a state. Two paths remained ahead. To destroy her or to teach her. Already, he had made himself responsible for the child by saving her life, so it was made clear his choice… but he would need assistance and an old friend to keep her in check.

    • Naeve was born in a quaint village in a western kingdom. While the kingdom is not known for being particularly fraught with magic, it is known for being home to a style of fighting that specializes against magic users and even seems to diminish magic potency when focusing their will. She was one of those apprenticed to learn the art. Though she never came to master it, she knew it well enough to be able to be a formidable foe to many a spellslinger.

      For a time, she worked abroad as a bounty hunter, specializing in the capture of wayward sorcerers who got a little too big for their knickers. Nothing as big as the Warlock plight that had ravaged a couple lands a few years back, but what were they to do? Their country’s best and brightest never made it to a personal confrontation with the bastard. She snickers at the thought, though. Some mundane bastard, The Damned managed to take him down. Sure, the rumors and legends built him up, but he was a thug who managed to take them down from within. Obvious there was some issues going on that everyone was not privy to.

      After a time, she had gotten into some trouble. She ran up some gambling debt along with a number of bar tabs that her work wasn’t paying off. Just her luck she was about to get into a bit of a brawl when some monkey faced old timer managed to ease everything. It had been awhile since she saw him, Oebrym. The last time she had, she was sorting out a ruckus that had pegged him for petty necromancy of household pets when it was some witch in town. He had in tow with him an upstart youth who was refusing to ditch her fur coat despite the unseasonable weather. And that was just the start of her woes, it seemed… They brought her along to join their traveling band of performers.
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