I
Iron Man
Guest
Original poster
- Status
S
Shenorai
Guest
Original poster
Made an update to the opening post of this thread. Should give you a better idea of what Runsong would look like. (In the winter, granted, but still.)
EDIT: Seeing how Fox is currently on holiday, I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that most of our planning and discussion is actually done over Skype via group conversation.
If you have a Skype account, are accepted into the RP, and would like to join the conversation, give me a shout. My Skype name is the same as my username on here; Shenorai.
EDIT: Seeing how Fox is currently on holiday, I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that most of our planning and discussion is actually done over Skype via group conversation.
If you have a Skype account, are accepted into the RP, and would like to join the conversation, give me a shout. My Skype name is the same as my username on here; Shenorai.
R
Red Fox
Guest
Original poster
N
Nol
Guest
Original poster
First-timer on this particular forum. I hope you'll accept this.
Name: Lady Helen
Gender: Female
Age: 34
Race: Human
Appearance;
- Hair: Straight and a shade of black so dark it is almost blue. Wears it loose, long enough to run down her back and end well past the shoulder blades. It has not started to grey.
- Eyes: Dark blue, large, clear.
- Height/Weight: 188 cm, around 60 kg
- Skin: Complexion free of blemishes, skin as smooth and pale as alabaster.
- Build: Very thin, with no breasts or hips to speak of. Body is toned and lithe due to regular physical training despite childbearing and age.
- Attire: Lady Helen is attired in clothing that is best described as simultaneously formal and practical; robes that cover her almost entirely, with a high button-up collar and long sleeves. The clothes, while clearly of fine quality, are not embroidered or decorated in any way. The are black to represent her mourning.
- Noteworthy Features: Helen was always renowned for her beauty when she was a priestess, and throughout the eight years of her marriage did not age a day. However, since losing both a husband and son though she does not appear to be much older, Helen has become somewhat more haggard, seemingly wasting away, getting thinner and thinner with every passing day. Though still undeniably beautiful, she is now somewhat ethereal and wisplike in appearance with her malnourished frame. Oddly, her voice has become stronger and more resolute in recent years, deep for a woman with its strength somewhat juxtaposed to her seemingly weakened body.
Weapon(s): Does not carry any.
Armor: Does not wear any.
Magic: Though never formally educated in any magic, Helen is a true autodidact and is doing her best to learn what she can as fast as she can with her aims in mind.
Abilities/Skills: Helen is a renowned scholar and researcher, being, as she is, the Dean of Tolsche College in Runesong. Her skills in the finer points of many sciences are second to none, though she specialises in medicine. Until she met her husband, Helen disdained the use of magic entirely, but is now applying her considerable intellect and willpower to learning and then mastering it. With a keen, analytical intellect that can take apart and piece together almost any problem, Lady Helen is aware that her mind is her greatest asset. However, due to her belief in the ancient adage of a healthy mind in a healthy body, she always finds time to exercise, leaving her strong and fit, albeit without any specific athletic talents.
History:
Name: Lady Helen
Gender: Female
Age: 34
Race: Human
Appearance;
- Hair: Straight and a shade of black so dark it is almost blue. Wears it loose, long enough to run down her back and end well past the shoulder blades. It has not started to grey.
- Eyes: Dark blue, large, clear.
- Height/Weight: 188 cm, around 60 kg
- Skin: Complexion free of blemishes, skin as smooth and pale as alabaster.
- Build: Very thin, with no breasts or hips to speak of. Body is toned and lithe due to regular physical training despite childbearing and age.
- Attire: Lady Helen is attired in clothing that is best described as simultaneously formal and practical; robes that cover her almost entirely, with a high button-up collar and long sleeves. The clothes, while clearly of fine quality, are not embroidered or decorated in any way. The are black to represent her mourning.
- Noteworthy Features: Helen was always renowned for her beauty when she was a priestess, and throughout the eight years of her marriage did not age a day. However, since losing both a husband and son though she does not appear to be much older, Helen has become somewhat more haggard, seemingly wasting away, getting thinner and thinner with every passing day. Though still undeniably beautiful, she is now somewhat ethereal and wisplike in appearance with her malnourished frame. Oddly, her voice has become stronger and more resolute in recent years, deep for a woman with its strength somewhat juxtaposed to her seemingly weakened body.
Weapon(s): Does not carry any.
Armor: Does not wear any.
Magic: Though never formally educated in any magic, Helen is a true autodidact and is doing her best to learn what she can as fast as she can with her aims in mind.
Abilities/Skills: Helen is a renowned scholar and researcher, being, as she is, the Dean of Tolsche College in Runesong. Her skills in the finer points of many sciences are second to none, though she specialises in medicine. Until she met her husband, Helen disdained the use of magic entirely, but is now applying her considerable intellect and willpower to learning and then mastering it. With a keen, analytical intellect that can take apart and piece together almost any problem, Lady Helen is aware that her mind is her greatest asset. However, due to her belief in the ancient adage of a healthy mind in a healthy body, she always finds time to exercise, leaving her strong and fit, albeit without any specific athletic talents.
History:
Lady Helen was born Helen Milletis, the daughter of a successful trader, Marcus Milletis. Her intelligence was noted from an early age, and though her father knew that his tall, beautiful daughter's unusual looks would get him a fine business partnership through an arranged marriage, he was savvy enough to realise that she would make a peerless successor to his fortune, able to manage his assets and expand the family business as owner after his death. Though not socially the most gifted, inclined as she was to being taciturn and outright cold to all who addressed her, Helen's academic ability, as well as her drive for self-improvement and sheer willpower would have made her a formidable businesswoman.
Helen was sent to be a priestess when she turned eighteen; in a temple she might have access to better learning materials and tutelage in a setting calmer and more restrained than one of the many colleges of Runesong. She had, and still has, no religious inclinations, and had every intent to renege on her holy vows once feeling that she had learned enough. Fate conspired against Helen to ensure that her life would turn out somewhat differently, however.
The first of many events that would change Helen's life forever happened during the summer of her twentieth birthday. Her father had decided to move his base of operations away from Runesong, preferring to set up in a smaller settlement. During this journey, made overland in a great caravan, they were attacked by bandits; later, it would turn out that these were accomplices of the very men hired by her father to protect them and their assets. Her father was killed, and Helen was taken prisoner, as much a prize as the gold that filled her dead father's coffers.
Though from a privileged, wealthy background, Helen was not naive and knew well what to expect at the hands of her captors, refusing to yield to them though she endured beatings that brought her to within an inch of her life. The scoundrels were kind enough to beat her with silk scarves wrapped around her hands, though, so as not to permanently scar Helen and devalue her sale value as a slave. At that exact moment, her captors screamed and crumbled to dust. From the cloud that had mere moments ago been living, breathing men, came a stranger.
He was a brutal giant of a man, taller than Helen by a head at around two metres, with a scarred, muscular frame and roofbeam shoulders, his physique only accented by the strange set of iron plates that he had strapped around some parts of his body. Too irregular to be armour other than when used actively like a shield to deflect blows with specific movements, and engraved with runes, it was clear that they empowered him in some way or another. His most distinguishing feature was his face, encased as it was by a great metal mask. Despite his terrifying appearance, Helen's rescuer handled her gently as he released the girl, making sure that she was uninjured. In doing so, he had to remove a rope from round Helen's neck, and once his hands were around it, she realised that never again could she leave this man's side. Though she did not know his name, Helen knew exactly who he was.
Years before, Helen had sworn that she would never give herself to a man, that the very concept of physical or emotional intimacy terrified her. Her relationship with her own father could have been described as little more than civil, not even mourning him to a great extent after his brutal murder. Physical contact, no matter how brief or trivial, caused the girl to flinch. But when she had turned nineteen, Helen had begun having dreams that both scared and excited her. A man came to her as she lay in bed, one whose face remained shrouded, but whose hands wrapped themselves around her neck, pulled her in and breathed into her ear. Though she knew nothing of him, knew nothing other than the feel of two huge, rough palms against her skin, his touch did not threaten her, and felt...it felt like something that made her complete.
This went against every logical thought in Helen's normally meticulously organised mind, that she should change her life around dreams...but what else did she have to do? In a few days she had gone from having a secure, planned future to no future at all. From now on her path through life would be walked not alone, but with another.
The man, however, did not introduce himself but, after ensuring that she was okay, made to leave, and was taken aback when Helen asked him not to, and asked him who he was. Clearly uncomfortable, he shrugged and informed her that he did not know. He had awoken more than a year ago wearing the plates in which he was clad with a single word tattooed on his great broad chest; Eisen. Where was he going? He did not know, but knew that it was his duty to train and become something far greater than he currently was. That somehow the world needed him, but was ignorant as to exactly in what way. So he allowed Helen to accompany him, and the girl made no attempts to garner his attention. Eisen was distant, rarely spoke and somewhat lacked in social skills. Through this observation, and through the way he constantly trained himself both physically and magically, Helen could tell that he was akin to her. As intelligent and calculating as she was, Eisen suspected that Helen harboured feelings for him, but did not acknowledge them, himself unsure whether he felt that way, or whether accepting another into his life in that way would weaken or strengthen him. For though the man was unsure of his eventual fate, he knew that he needed to be the best that he could be, at the pinnacle of his physical and mental prowess.
The two travelled, doing what they could to get by, Helen primarily selling her abilities as a healer, and Eisen as a mercenary, though he never accepted contracts that he viewed as harming the innocent. He fought through an unusual combination of unarmed combat and magic, augmenting his not inconsiderable physical abilities with what powers he had, or channeling it into blasts of outright energy manifested in various forms. It was not uncommon for him to tear an enemy's spine out of their body with his bare hands, and after many a battle Helen would attend to his wounds, at least those that he could not knit together himself through his now peerless grasp of magic.
It was during one such session, when Helen was stitching together a bad wound on the man's neck, when his mask came off. For the first time, after two years of travelling and living together, Helen saw Eisen's face; he was handsome, if in a rough, rugged way. Bruised and weatherbeaten, as was his body, the face of a true warrior. Surprisingly, he appeared to be around ten years her senior, perhaps a few more. As their eyes met, Eisen grabbed the mask and shoved it straight back on, but by that time it was too late, and finding no resistance, Helen gently took it off him again, and kissed him.
The two married nary a month later, the reputed warrior and scholar. Their life on the road remained the same, their abilities bolstered and augmented by their burning love for each other. They knew that they were destined to be together until death tore them apart, that each required the other to live. Two sides of the same coin, two halves of the same soul, Helen and Eisen were inseparable. They remained nomads until Helen's twenty-eighth year, when she announced to Eisen that she was with child. The two settled in Runesong, where they were more than welcome thanks to Eisen having defended it two years before from a potentially threatening Wyvern, earning himself a Lordship. More powerful than ever, they bought a mansion, Helen took up a position lecturing at Tolsche college, and Eisen went about studying and perfecting magic aimed at granting personal flight. Though they knew not what fate awaited them, being strong and prepared for the future was all, for when whatever great challenge they knew was ahead hit them, and the two would face it like a bulwark. It was not to be.
Helen would never forget the day that Eisen's body was brought home. His foe had not been of any significance, nothing compared to the scores of men, heroes and monstrosities that he had laid low countless times before hand. Eternally vigilant and meticulous to the last iota, it had not been through lack of preparation or ability that Eisen had died. Some small warlord in a smallholding many leagues to the east had plunged his blade into Eisen's chest and so snuffed out his life, terminating a man who had been, according to some, the greatest hero of the age. Helen could not believe this; she had watched Eisen break the back of a Wyvern with no more than his hands and elbows, had seen him smash horses to the ground with his fists and crush their riders, shatter steel plate with his mind. To a mere man he had fallen, and now his lifeless corpse lay in their parlour. Barely able to walk, the usually indomitably tenacious Helen managed to summon a Chronomancer to enchant her husband's body, to prevent it from decomposing, before collapsing. Her son, when he came a month later, was stillborn.
So five years later Helen perseveres, half the woman she used to be. Carrying out her duties as an educator, she has withdrawn entirely from the world of public research, and indeed from the public eye entirely. Always uncompromising, Helen has become more grim and grit-toothed since Eisen's passing, accepting no compromise of anything, her determination seemingly keeping her going when she has nothing else. For beneath the great mansion, most of the rooms gathering dust from disuse, lay a laboratory, and inside it lay Eisen, as unchanged as the day he died, the good Chronomancer's work leaving his body unaffected by the ravages of time. Helen has sworn that she will not, cannot allow the one who made her life worth living slip away into the dark in such a manner, and will conquer that foe which no being had yet managed to defeat; death. Her days are consumed by research and experimentation, talking to various 'traders' who can acquire her the materials that she needs to continue her work in secret. Eisen's fate has not yet played out, of this she is sure, and the world needs a hero now more than ever...
Helen was sent to be a priestess when she turned eighteen; in a temple she might have access to better learning materials and tutelage in a setting calmer and more restrained than one of the many colleges of Runesong. She had, and still has, no religious inclinations, and had every intent to renege on her holy vows once feeling that she had learned enough. Fate conspired against Helen to ensure that her life would turn out somewhat differently, however.
The first of many events that would change Helen's life forever happened during the summer of her twentieth birthday. Her father had decided to move his base of operations away from Runesong, preferring to set up in a smaller settlement. During this journey, made overland in a great caravan, they were attacked by bandits; later, it would turn out that these were accomplices of the very men hired by her father to protect them and their assets. Her father was killed, and Helen was taken prisoner, as much a prize as the gold that filled her dead father's coffers.
Though from a privileged, wealthy background, Helen was not naive and knew well what to expect at the hands of her captors, refusing to yield to them though she endured beatings that brought her to within an inch of her life. The scoundrels were kind enough to beat her with silk scarves wrapped around her hands, though, so as not to permanently scar Helen and devalue her sale value as a slave. At that exact moment, her captors screamed and crumbled to dust. From the cloud that had mere moments ago been living, breathing men, came a stranger.
He was a brutal giant of a man, taller than Helen by a head at around two metres, with a scarred, muscular frame and roofbeam shoulders, his physique only accented by the strange set of iron plates that he had strapped around some parts of his body. Too irregular to be armour other than when used actively like a shield to deflect blows with specific movements, and engraved with runes, it was clear that they empowered him in some way or another. His most distinguishing feature was his face, encased as it was by a great metal mask. Despite his terrifying appearance, Helen's rescuer handled her gently as he released the girl, making sure that she was uninjured. In doing so, he had to remove a rope from round Helen's neck, and once his hands were around it, she realised that never again could she leave this man's side. Though she did not know his name, Helen knew exactly who he was.
Years before, Helen had sworn that she would never give herself to a man, that the very concept of physical or emotional intimacy terrified her. Her relationship with her own father could have been described as little more than civil, not even mourning him to a great extent after his brutal murder. Physical contact, no matter how brief or trivial, caused the girl to flinch. But when she had turned nineteen, Helen had begun having dreams that both scared and excited her. A man came to her as she lay in bed, one whose face remained shrouded, but whose hands wrapped themselves around her neck, pulled her in and breathed into her ear. Though she knew nothing of him, knew nothing other than the feel of two huge, rough palms against her skin, his touch did not threaten her, and felt...it felt like something that made her complete.
This went against every logical thought in Helen's normally meticulously organised mind, that she should change her life around dreams...but what else did she have to do? In a few days she had gone from having a secure, planned future to no future at all. From now on her path through life would be walked not alone, but with another.
The man, however, did not introduce himself but, after ensuring that she was okay, made to leave, and was taken aback when Helen asked him not to, and asked him who he was. Clearly uncomfortable, he shrugged and informed her that he did not know. He had awoken more than a year ago wearing the plates in which he was clad with a single word tattooed on his great broad chest; Eisen. Where was he going? He did not know, but knew that it was his duty to train and become something far greater than he currently was. That somehow the world needed him, but was ignorant as to exactly in what way. So he allowed Helen to accompany him, and the girl made no attempts to garner his attention. Eisen was distant, rarely spoke and somewhat lacked in social skills. Through this observation, and through the way he constantly trained himself both physically and magically, Helen could tell that he was akin to her. As intelligent and calculating as she was, Eisen suspected that Helen harboured feelings for him, but did not acknowledge them, himself unsure whether he felt that way, or whether accepting another into his life in that way would weaken or strengthen him. For though the man was unsure of his eventual fate, he knew that he needed to be the best that he could be, at the pinnacle of his physical and mental prowess.
The two travelled, doing what they could to get by, Helen primarily selling her abilities as a healer, and Eisen as a mercenary, though he never accepted contracts that he viewed as harming the innocent. He fought through an unusual combination of unarmed combat and magic, augmenting his not inconsiderable physical abilities with what powers he had, or channeling it into blasts of outright energy manifested in various forms. It was not uncommon for him to tear an enemy's spine out of their body with his bare hands, and after many a battle Helen would attend to his wounds, at least those that he could not knit together himself through his now peerless grasp of magic.
It was during one such session, when Helen was stitching together a bad wound on the man's neck, when his mask came off. For the first time, after two years of travelling and living together, Helen saw Eisen's face; he was handsome, if in a rough, rugged way. Bruised and weatherbeaten, as was his body, the face of a true warrior. Surprisingly, he appeared to be around ten years her senior, perhaps a few more. As their eyes met, Eisen grabbed the mask and shoved it straight back on, but by that time it was too late, and finding no resistance, Helen gently took it off him again, and kissed him.
The two married nary a month later, the reputed warrior and scholar. Their life on the road remained the same, their abilities bolstered and augmented by their burning love for each other. They knew that they were destined to be together until death tore them apart, that each required the other to live. Two sides of the same coin, two halves of the same soul, Helen and Eisen were inseparable. They remained nomads until Helen's twenty-eighth year, when she announced to Eisen that she was with child. The two settled in Runesong, where they were more than welcome thanks to Eisen having defended it two years before from a potentially threatening Wyvern, earning himself a Lordship. More powerful than ever, they bought a mansion, Helen took up a position lecturing at Tolsche college, and Eisen went about studying and perfecting magic aimed at granting personal flight. Though they knew not what fate awaited them, being strong and prepared for the future was all, for when whatever great challenge they knew was ahead hit them, and the two would face it like a bulwark. It was not to be.
Helen would never forget the day that Eisen's body was brought home. His foe had not been of any significance, nothing compared to the scores of men, heroes and monstrosities that he had laid low countless times before hand. Eternally vigilant and meticulous to the last iota, it had not been through lack of preparation or ability that Eisen had died. Some small warlord in a smallholding many leagues to the east had plunged his blade into Eisen's chest and so snuffed out his life, terminating a man who had been, according to some, the greatest hero of the age. Helen could not believe this; she had watched Eisen break the back of a Wyvern with no more than his hands and elbows, had seen him smash horses to the ground with his fists and crush their riders, shatter steel plate with his mind. To a mere man he had fallen, and now his lifeless corpse lay in their parlour. Barely able to walk, the usually indomitably tenacious Helen managed to summon a Chronomancer to enchant her husband's body, to prevent it from decomposing, before collapsing. Her son, when he came a month later, was stillborn.
So five years later Helen perseveres, half the woman she used to be. Carrying out her duties as an educator, she has withdrawn entirely from the world of public research, and indeed from the public eye entirely. Always uncompromising, Helen has become more grim and grit-toothed since Eisen's passing, accepting no compromise of anything, her determination seemingly keeping her going when she has nothing else. For beneath the great mansion, most of the rooms gathering dust from disuse, lay a laboratory, and inside it lay Eisen, as unchanged as the day he died, the good Chronomancer's work leaving his body unaffected by the ravages of time. Helen has sworn that she will not, cannot allow the one who made her life worth living slip away into the dark in such a manner, and will conquer that foe which no being had yet managed to defeat; death. Her days are consumed by research and experimentation, talking to various 'traders' who can acquire her the materials that she needs to continue her work in secret. Eisen's fate has not yet played out, of this she is sure, and the world needs a hero now more than ever...
- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Online Availability
- I work swing shift, schedule changes daily.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Medieval Fantasy. Or pirates. Pirates are always good. When it comes to reading, however, a good steampunk is always great. Above all, however, I would definitely have to say my favorite is Dark Fantasy.
Physically speaking, she seems to be a gender opposite of Virgil! I sense a feeling of kindred souls at first sight! Given that she's known for research it wouldn't be a farfetched that she's read some of his ancient books or his modern ones, really.
S
Shenorai
Guest
Original poster
B
Boxagonapus
Guest
Original poster
Name: Raziel Najjar
Gender: Male
Age:29
Race: Human
Appearance;
- [bHair[/b]: Long strands of neck length dark brown intermixed with gray strands and an overall slightly dirty clung together nature.
- Eyes: Dark emerald with a faint yellow flare around the iris
- Height/Weight: Raziel is a stockier man at about five foot ten but a stockier build of one hundred eighty pounds even
- Skin: A darker complexion from one of the coastal grounds made ashen gray from time spent in dank crypts
- Build: Burly, Raziel is a cannon ball of a man with a thick strong core of muscles from hard work giving him the appearance of a fighter.
- Attire: Dark pair of canvas trousers tucked into thickened leather footing contoured to Raziel's feet and reach up to about mid calve. His upper body is covered with a canvas henley that used to be a basic white but with so much dirt, grease, and mud that's stained it to an almost urban camouflage. Further Raziel wears a pair of fingerless leather gauntlets that run up to the elbow. Finally Raziel wears a thick olive keffiyeh with turquoise accents that he drapes around his neck.
- Noteworthy Features: Aside from a general light beard and the look of a desert dweller he has numerous tattoos over his body with the most noticeable (visible) being a three dot tattoo on his right hand in a triangle
Weapon(s):
---1: Pistol with integrated suppressor concealed between his hard leather body armor and his canvas shirt vertically length wise along his ribs. It fires subsonic ammunition and is near silent. Unfortunately it suffers from hindered penetration and requires a close shot or a very precise shot.
---2: A heavy blade kukri concealed within his left forearm gauntlet
---3: A double sided simple backup boot knife tucked into his left boot
Armor:
---1: The boots and gauntlets have thick metal plating reinforcing them
---2: A leather cuirass undistinctive in nature. Scaled leather pauldrons with metal plates designed to allow full range of motion. The cuirass holds several small pouches and two larger pouches mounted on the outside of his thighs.
Abilities/Skills:
---You're a wizard! - spending a lot of time around mages and trying to loot protected graves has given Raziel a sense for magic in that the presence of magic gives him a sense of things. Not necessarily what they are just the presence of magic.
---t belongs in a museum! - Preferring to steal valuable items from important people sometimes the clues are in archaic tongues and cultures that may be dead. This knowledge is many times safely guarded and aren't necessarily acquired ethically
---Like a Spider Monkey - a youth of trapeze work and a circus background and thievery lends a knack for ascending things.
---Who me? - Raziel doesn't speak a great deal and prefers to act in a similar manner, preferring to blend in and be unassuming
---Cloak and Dagger- lock picking and trap setting
---Pirates Life for me- A life from the coast lends these skills to those that neighbor it
---STALKER - Scavengers, Trespassers, Adventurers, Loners, Killers, Explorers, Robbers - A Jack of all trades survivalist
---Shot in the Dark - General proficiency in small arms projectile weaponry
---Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - Most of Raziel's equipment is self-designed and built as Raziel fancies himself an inventor and curious individual
---History:
Gender: Male
Age:29
Race: Human
Appearance;
- [bHair[/b]: Long strands of neck length dark brown intermixed with gray strands and an overall slightly dirty clung together nature.
- Eyes: Dark emerald with a faint yellow flare around the iris
- Height/Weight: Raziel is a stockier man at about five foot ten but a stockier build of one hundred eighty pounds even
- Skin: A darker complexion from one of the coastal grounds made ashen gray from time spent in dank crypts
- Build: Burly, Raziel is a cannon ball of a man with a thick strong core of muscles from hard work giving him the appearance of a fighter.
- Attire: Dark pair of canvas trousers tucked into thickened leather footing contoured to Raziel's feet and reach up to about mid calve. His upper body is covered with a canvas henley that used to be a basic white but with so much dirt, grease, and mud that's stained it to an almost urban camouflage. Further Raziel wears a pair of fingerless leather gauntlets that run up to the elbow. Finally Raziel wears a thick olive keffiyeh with turquoise accents that he drapes around his neck.
- Noteworthy Features: Aside from a general light beard and the look of a desert dweller he has numerous tattoos over his body with the most noticeable (visible) being a three dot tattoo on his right hand in a triangle
Weapon(s):
---1: Pistol with integrated suppressor concealed between his hard leather body armor and his canvas shirt vertically length wise along his ribs. It fires subsonic ammunition and is near silent. Unfortunately it suffers from hindered penetration and requires a close shot or a very precise shot.
---2: A heavy blade kukri concealed within his left forearm gauntlet
---3: A double sided simple backup boot knife tucked into his left boot
Armor:
---1: The boots and gauntlets have thick metal plating reinforcing them
---2: A leather cuirass undistinctive in nature. Scaled leather pauldrons with metal plates designed to allow full range of motion. The cuirass holds several small pouches and two larger pouches mounted on the outside of his thighs.
Abilities/Skills:
---You're a wizard! - spending a lot of time around mages and trying to loot protected graves has given Raziel a sense for magic in that the presence of magic gives him a sense of things. Not necessarily what they are just the presence of magic.
---t belongs in a museum! - Preferring to steal valuable items from important people sometimes the clues are in archaic tongues and cultures that may be dead. This knowledge is many times safely guarded and aren't necessarily acquired ethically
---Like a Spider Monkey - a youth of trapeze work and a circus background and thievery lends a knack for ascending things.
---Who me? - Raziel doesn't speak a great deal and prefers to act in a similar manner, preferring to blend in and be unassuming
---Cloak and Dagger- lock picking and trap setting
---Pirates Life for me- A life from the coast lends these skills to those that neighbor it
---STALKER - Scavengers, Trespassers, Adventurers, Loners, Killers, Explorers, Robbers - A Jack of all trades survivalist
---Shot in the Dark - General proficiency in small arms projectile weaponry
---Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - Most of Raziel's equipment is self-designed and built as Raziel fancies himself an inventor and curious individual
---History:
At a young age Raziel was curious. Too curious for his own good most would say and for good reason. He liked to explore old caves, if he found out about crypts he would explore them just for the sake of the adventure. He also liked exploring other people's belongings and many times would take things that didn't belong to him. As a child it didn't bother him he just saw something he wanted. However he spurned his father's anger when he stole from his own family. To avoid the unfathomable wrath that Raziel envisioned he ran away tagging along with a passing caravan of entertainers that took him far from his coastal home.
To make money Raziel had to learn a trick or two and became a performer specializing in acrobatics and in high stakes aerial displays and loved the rush. Unfortunately his curiosity continued and he would nip an item or two from people he entertained. Thankfully he always wore a mask during his performance and people rarely saw him about without a hood so it continued. So did his curiosity for dark dank places and soon he found himself exploring mausoleums and then eventually the very graves of people taking interesting valuables from them.
His curiosity led him to become a self-taught individual learning bits of magic here and there more so that he could detect the presence of the supernatural and prolong his life. He found being unassuming and paranoid to be valuable assets in a thief's life. Eventually he found his way to Runesong where he worked as a freemason of sorts. Being in a city abundant with technology, magic, and valuables proved to be a paradise for a curious individual such as him and his interests turned towards practical technology and knowledge of the dead tongues and civilizations in a desire to enhance the experience of his adventures.
Recently his certain proclivities have come to aid a certain mistress who's patronage he greatly appreciates in whatever her fetish for dead corpses demands. He doesn't ask many questions and receives handsome pay but he is becoming quite curious.
To make money Raziel had to learn a trick or two and became a performer specializing in acrobatics and in high stakes aerial displays and loved the rush. Unfortunately his curiosity continued and he would nip an item or two from people he entertained. Thankfully he always wore a mask during his performance and people rarely saw him about without a hood so it continued. So did his curiosity for dark dank places and soon he found himself exploring mausoleums and then eventually the very graves of people taking interesting valuables from them.
His curiosity led him to become a self-taught individual learning bits of magic here and there more so that he could detect the presence of the supernatural and prolong his life. He found being unassuming and paranoid to be valuable assets in a thief's life. Eventually he found his way to Runesong where he worked as a freemason of sorts. Being in a city abundant with technology, magic, and valuables proved to be a paradise for a curious individual such as him and his interests turned towards practical technology and knowledge of the dead tongues and civilizations in a desire to enhance the experience of his adventures.
Recently his certain proclivities have come to aid a certain mistress who's patronage he greatly appreciates in whatever her fetish for dead corpses demands. He doesn't ask many questions and receives handsome pay but he is becoming quite curious.
- Invitation Status
- Look for groups
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- PST Afternoons and Evenings
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Nonbinary
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Primarily Nonbinary
- Genres
- Fantasy is my main draw but sci-fi also has potential.
N
Nol
Guest
Original poster
I do have every intention of posting, I've just been surprisingly busy lately. Will have something up tomorrow.
S
Shenorai
Guest
Original poster
Hmm...not only do I really have no idea what I'm looking at as far as specialization goes, there's one more concern.
Unless you can explain this as well, I'll have to decline.
B
Boxagonapus
Guest
Original poster
I'm a grave robber working for Nol's character. It's been pre arranged. As for the WorldofTur character if you'll look at the Raziel character underneath the avatar where the catch phrase goes you'll notice that it says "• PLAYER:BOXAGONAPUS"
Well that's because it's me. Feel free to send either Raziel or Boxagonapus on Tur a PM and I'll respond. I've ported the basic character concept here since I created the concept for Tur and the forum is. . . horribly slow.
As far as specialization. . . thief whether of the living or the dead who entertains and then steals from the entertained.
Well that's because it's me. Feel free to send either Raziel or Boxagonapus on Tur a PM and I'll respond. I've ported the basic character concept here since I created the concept for Tur and the forum is. . . horribly slow.
As far as specialization. . . thief whether of the living or the dead who entertains and then steals from the entertained.
S
Shenorai
Guest
Original poster
Well, now I feel like a dunce. Sorry about that. I was just making sure you weren't copying someone else's characters. Those sort of players just drive me up the wall.
All right, consider Raziel in.
All right, consider Raziel in.
B
Boxagonapus
Guest
Original poster
It's fine. I think that Raziel was my first post in this forum so a guy with one post that also happens to be a pretty close rip off to another character is shady at best. I created the idea of a grave robber and haven't really had a chance to spin in his skin and it worked well with Nol's character. Thank you though! Will be getting a post up a bit later tonight.
I
Iron Man
Guest
Original poster
I
Iron Man
Guest
Original poster
- Invitation Status
- Look for groups
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- PST Afternoons and Evenings
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Nonbinary
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Primarily Nonbinary
- Genres
- Fantasy is my main draw but sci-fi also has potential.
Dammit Izzy. I had somethign I wanted to share with you on skype. I think it's a few people int he shop's turn
S
Shenorai
Guest
Original poster
@Shace @Raitoningu @Tipysnaruto @trashboat @Nol @Boxagonapus
If anyone else wants to get in a post, do so. We'll be moving the story along within the next couple days.
If anyone else wants to get in a post, do so. We'll be moving the story along within the next couple days.
I
Iron Man
Guest
Original poster
Guys sorry to sound so newbie-ish, but how do you make a thread like this without it going into Interest check? I was hoping to make a discussion thread for my rps but I am lacking the knowledge x(
S
Shenorai
Guest
Original poster
If there is already a group of people genuinely interested in your idea, you can just skip the Interest Check altogether and go ahead with the Sign-Up/Discussion thread. IC threads are basically made to see how many people might be interested in participating in a story if you're presenting it for the first time.
O
OverCast
Guest
Original poster
Basic Info
Name: Draren Azaril
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Race: Human
Appearance
- Hair: Coarse, wavy, hair. Cut medium. Dark Brown.
- Eyes: Blue
- Height/Weight: 6'1 / 183lbs
- Skin: Very Pale
- Build: Medium Muscle tone, tall and skinny.
- Attire: He wears a Pauldron on his left shoulder, over a white shirt.
Equipment:
Scourge
A lightweight, fire-enchanted rapier.
Azaril Family Pauldron
An ancient bronze pauldron, passed down in the Azaril family. It has no special abilities, but has sentimental value to Draren.
Abilities/Skills:
Master Swordsman
Draren has been training his sword-craft for many years. He is a master at sword-fighting, particularly with a rapier.
"Trio di Sangue"
Draren makes three quick strikes with his rapier, each piercing a certain nerve. If done correctly, the victim would be unable to use magic for some time.
History:
Draren was born into the noble family of Azaril. While his brothers, sisters and cousins went along their paths in becoming merchants, masons, or artisans, Draren took a different path. At the age of 11, Draren moved away, becoming the apprentice to a grandmaster swordsman. For 10 years, he studied, choosing the rapier as his weapon. After becoming a full fledged master of his craft, Draren began to travel the world.
(Sorry for shortness, my characters are normally better quality.)
Name: Draren Azaril
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Race: Human
Appearance
- Hair: Coarse, wavy, hair. Cut medium. Dark Brown.
- Eyes: Blue
- Height/Weight: 6'1 / 183lbs
- Skin: Very Pale
- Build: Medium Muscle tone, tall and skinny.
- Attire: He wears a Pauldron on his left shoulder, over a white shirt.
Equipment:
Scourge
A lightweight, fire-enchanted rapier.
Azaril Family Pauldron
An ancient bronze pauldron, passed down in the Azaril family. It has no special abilities, but has sentimental value to Draren.
Abilities/Skills:
Master Swordsman
Draren has been training his sword-craft for many years. He is a master at sword-fighting, particularly with a rapier.
"Trio di Sangue"
Draren makes three quick strikes with his rapier, each piercing a certain nerve. If done correctly, the victim would be unable to use magic for some time.
History:
Draren was born into the noble family of Azaril. While his brothers, sisters and cousins went along their paths in becoming merchants, masons, or artisans, Draren took a different path. At the age of 11, Draren moved away, becoming the apprentice to a grandmaster swordsman. For 10 years, he studied, choosing the rapier as his weapon. After becoming a full fledged master of his craft, Draren began to travel the world.
(Sorry for shortness, my characters are normally better quality.)
- Status