The Coming of Mana

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Enter the Grand Ranger.... or something....

Personal Traits

  • Personal

    Name: Deekin
    Age: 28
    Sex: Male
    Race: Kobold
    Appearance:
    reeshs_sorrow_by_flamslade-d7fsat5.jpg

    Biography: Discouraged early in life from a career in the Arts Deekin chose to instead use his smaller size and nimble digits for more suitable pursuits. His early days out of the clan den were marked by his time in a street gang, running instructions, slipping through fights to strike unexpectedly, the odd bit of lock and pocket picking. It seemed his main role in the gang however was as a decoy, a task he seemed to perform quite well most of the time.

    Reaching his late teens he yearned for a change of pace and studied briefly under an old witchdoctor that the gang had call to use on occasion. Here he picked up a little knowledge of using mana, a little life magic in the form of minor healing and the capability to dominate the minds of rodents. He soon discovered that he had little aptitude for magic and grew bored with the old man's lessons.

    He then got it into his head that he would become a Ranger, travelling between cities and protecting others from the beasts that roamed the lands. He started by signing on with several caravans as a guard and trying to learn from the more experienced veterans of the wild lands beyond the city walls, eventually finding a man who was much more at home outside a city and within the safety of walls. The man had with him a trained dog which he claimed he had found in the wild and after capturing it bent to his will with merciless months of training.

    True or not this convinced Deekin that to be the Ranger he had decided he would be need a beast of his own at his side, so one night he slipped away from the carvan he was with at the time and entered the wilds, hiding from most of the creatures he saw until he came upon a sleeping tiger. Of course Deekin had nothing to trap the tiger with and certainly didn't want to spend months trying to train it. So instead he used the magic he had learned from the witchdoctor, the spell that had allowed him to dominate rats and mice.

    The rest as they say is history. Deekin has not however risen to the lofty station he had aimed for, but given time perhaps it will come. In the mean time he does what work he can get to make ends meet.

  • Traits

    Might: 2
    Arcana: 2
    Guile: 7
    Cognizance: 3
    Will: 1

    By Teeth and Claw: As a Kobold, disarming Deekin is practically impossible without... well, literally disarming him... and muzzling him. His claws are capable of shredding light armour though has less effect against heavier protection and his bite is strong enough to puncture plate armour, though of course biting does leave him somewhat vulnerable to retaliation. Zane shares these traits

    Telepathic Link: Deekin shares a telepathic link with Zane though a blood bond the two of them made many years ago.

    Animal Companion; Zane: Deekin travels with a Saber Tooth Tiger by the name of Zane. The two fight together and are rarely separated, Even going so far as Deekin insisting they share accommodation, Most innkeepers refuse to let Zane in the rooms (though few try to removing him from the common rooms) which means Deekin has spent many a night in haylofts rather than proper beds.
 
Tempest said:
@Azula @Kadaeux accepted :3

I have an announcement. Sarzu will be becoming my co-gm.

Also... Remember that country information I was talking about?
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Help she has locked me in the basement forcing me to help her with her nefarious schemes for the rp! Can someone get me out!

Or at the very least give me some sports ointment, these chains chafe something fierce.
 
Sarzu said:
Help she has locked me in the basement forcing me to help her with her nefarious schemes for the rp! Can someone get me out!

Or at the very least give me some sports ointment, these chains chafe something fierce.
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Oy shut yer gob boy toy and keep working for whatever she needs you for. She paid good money to me for your services and that included a 'no-whining' clause. Now get back to work or I'll loan Rhai some of my... 'attitude-correctors' you know of the ones I speak.
 
Mercuil
To the people of the rest of the world, those of Mercuil are seen in a mysterious and supernatural light and tales abounds are held of them. This is not surprising as of the other nations it is the most isolated from the others. Though foreigners will visit their land, namely the city of Selhalune where they dock to replenish supplies before continuing their voyages, they do not travel beyond the walls or seek exceptional interaction with these people. Many still hold hard feelings for the mana blight. However, that is not to say all the stories are uncalled for or untrue. Those from Mercuil are known for their habits of odd medicines, consuming plants and unusual parts of mana fiends. Unlike most of the world that fears spirits and seek to exorcise them, those of this country welcome them into their body, believing that it is their ancestors honoring them and through this they will guide, empower and protect. Since the initial outbreak of Dreamer's Disease, where their country suffered the most who fell to its clutches, it has tapered off into the rarest of cases. Of the nations, they have the lowest rate of those to appear with talent and fewer yet to achieve great power with it. It is just as well, as they have a strong loathing of the practice, believing it to be a sign of a tainted spirit.

The people of Mercuil live in houses of either gong, an, or asuka stylings depending on the region. Typically, there is a stone shrine built to the ancestors within these homes. Their cities, the only part of the myōden left that were once controlled by the daimyos of the hegemon, are no longer in their rule. Though they are still considered noble families, they had long been stripped of their power for the events that led to the Day of Mana and a meritocracy was instituted.

The people, always natural in the ways of battle and martial by nature, have adjusted well to the new fight against the mana fiends. With the culling of their population, however, they found a blessing in their traditional matriarchal society. Everyone who could be capable of wielding a weapon needed to be capable of doing so, and men and women have long since fought side-by-side. Of these weapons, the most identifiable by those of other nations are their curved blades of polished folded steel. However, they are avid users of polearms and heavy mechanical bows. Unlike in other countries, iron is less commonly found here, having to be extracted through burning it out of peat in small quantities. This has caused them to develop ō-yoroi armour made of leather, woods and small plates and bands of steel in order to compensate.
Vossheim
The land of Vossheim is best described as being divided between two separate groups. The first of which would be what the rest of the world consider the 'civilized' Voss, though it is a widely held belief that you cannot trust a man of Voss. Civil Voss is ruled by a Tsar and the line of succession flows through the son. Luckily, the Voss are known for producing large families because assumption of the right to rule is highly sought after and if someone is not bringing the country to a small civil war for their own right to rule, assassination attempts and the occasional battlefield 'accident' when the next in line is thought more fit to rule is a timeheld tradition leading to rulership exchanging hands often enough. Those of civil Voss are monotheistic, worshiping Vhors, a god of battle, storms and master of all waters. They pray to him before every battle for victory, for rain and for the damned Northmen to stop raiding every winter. Overall, civil Voss are a stubborn breed who are never to be bullied about or likely to give in, even when their door has been beaten down by a man of the tundra for the fourth year running.

'Wild' Voss comprise of nomadic horse tribes who in history divided from their brethren to practice religious freedoms. Many of them have adopted different beliefs, but a commonality between all is cairn worship. These cairns are placed along many common travel routes and it is common practice to stop at each and offer a tribute. While some might deposit coin or baubles if they believe to have read a bad omen, most will leave an offering of food and drink for the next traveler to come by. Doing this is believed to provide for good luck and safe passage and ward off evil spirits on their journeys. Shamans are common among the tribes and are thought to have some measure of power over spirits, having an otherworldly connection between this world and the next. They also provide healing services and serve to interpret omens people have seen in the world and their dreams.

The region as a whole is known for their love of riding creatures. The more stubborn the creature is to tame, the more respect they have to be able to ride it. One of the symbols of a master rider is a ursine mount. However, there are old tales of times when people once rode griffins into battle.

"The secret is, son, you need to look into his eyes and let him know who really calls the shots around here." -A great Voss father, teaching his son to ride a Artôrwulf
Rorchereal Tundra
The Northmen are a people made of piss and ice, the rest of the world would say. This may be infamy garnered from their inclination of setting raiding parties in the harsh winters, some of which are against other lands but even other clans of the north fall victim to it. When deciding not to bear shield and axe and steal what they need to survive these times of scarce food, it is not unheard of for clans to band together for the purpose of taking down massive game to divide the spoils. Come springtime, they find that the ice has thawed enough to fish and that the grampus are swimming close to the shore and even up the rivers, making it easy for them to harpoon from their skin boats. Little of animals go to waste. Leathers and hides are common in attire. Even the bones prove useful, particularly those of large mana fiends as they can stretch leather over them to make their summer tents. During the winter months, however, their homes are icy igloos.

Many of the Tundra are contented with their lives as roaming hunters and surviving off of the land. It is not unheard of that one will grow tired of the endless snow and ice and travel the world, plying their trade for those who will pay. However, there are those more mercantile might offer their services on a vessel, traveling to another land. There they would sell their furs, scrimshaw and other northern trinkets and return home with much needed supplies to make life easier. Other practices include marriages that last for a contractual length of time. Upon their end the two parties can choose to renew their vows or part ways. Arranged marriages and the the tradition of "stealing a mate" (one that displays superiority and worthiness to wed) from other tribes prevents genetic stagnation. Northmen, as a burial rite, burn their dead in a funeral pyre as a sacred use of the sparse wood this much of this region produces in order to honor them. However, they do not believe in gods or an afterlife and believe in the power of man, and celebrating life.
Enruba
In the land of Enruba, ritual blood sacrifices of sacred stock are given to the mana spring that the imperial estates surround and the grand temple is housed over. Mana technology is still utilized heavily here, potential consequences unheeded and many devote their entire lives to develop the next thing that will revolutionize the world. They revere Manica as living deities and as such treat any who visit with utmost hospitality, paying homage to them in food, housing and gifts. Ceremonies are performed upon death to assure that spirits reach the afterlife and their bodies are fed through mana machines that produce geodes, turning the body to crystals. In this way, they feel they have reached an end as the Manica have.

The empire is ruled by the Emperor, who appoints his own Grand Vizier. Many more Viziers operate within each city-state of the empire. Of all the regions, it is by far the most rich and opulent, the richest temples are said to be plated with gold and the walls embedded with crystals. They are also the most afforded to scholarly practices and in the capital have a great capital built up from hundreds of years. Agriculture and gardening are central to the land and are the pride of Enruba as it symbolizes their conquering of the desert and their god's triumph over death. Many will go so far as to import rare flora from other lands in order to make their personal gardens more impressive and it is a great insult to suggest their garden left wanting. Many Enrubians have a vast superiority complex when it comes to other countries, and even among those of different social strata. One such example is their regards to traders. Many would not even consider the life of a trader afar in Enruba, if not just because it demands one leaves what they believe to be the chosen land, but because they regard it a profession for liars, cheaters and greedy men.

Punishments can be severe within the empire for crimes. Bodily punishment is not uncommon. In some instances, 'an eye for an eye' is a principal held, much in the case of stealing where one might lose a hand. For crimes severe such as murder, execution or serfdom are the verdict. Those who owe a great debt might forfeit themselves to an indentured servitude to work off their debts.
Baelmyst
The Baelmyst, even before the Day of Mana, the entire region has been seeped in magic and strange occurrences that defy the laws of nature. A shroud of ever present mist is the indicator for when one enters it's borders. In the past before the Day of Mana the settlements and signs of civilization that were housed within the confines of the mist were not the most wealthy or perhaps large, and to this day they fancy themselves as woodsmen even if they have retreated within cities. But the people who made their living there were content, believing the mist that never vanished protected them from outside invaders. Oh there are tales aplenty, ask any old crone or wise man and he will tell you of many a legend, myth or fable of something odd, strange or otherworldly happening to those who venture off the established paths through the mist and who go deeper. Tales of the passing of time acting strange, a journey that should take you only a week might take a month or you arrive at your destinations within hours.

Those tales were scarce, but when the Day of Mana came and all Mana wells across the world changed, they warped their surroundings with effects that would not be felt for generations to come. Within the Baelmyst the mist shroud that most folk thought as protecting them became a more grim place for those who live there and travel through. Strange noises first ever heard when one was deep within the confines of the mist could now be heard at the edges of settlements. Children and adults alike who would be at the edge of town might end up missing, their loved ones haunted by singing in the voice of their missing relative from the fog, and when they go out and find the origin of the voice they too disappear. There are places where the mists seems to whisper in your head, filling your mind with words of madness or booming laughter.

In the past a fortress had been built by proclaimed guardian of the woods, the name of this fortress: Fort Xandra. Many flocked to this site for the protection it offered and it has grown considerably since the time of its founding. The guardian has long since vanished or passed away and now it is ruled by a man proclaiming himself Ard Ri, high king of the Baelmyst. For a long time the various settlements within the confines of the Baelmyst stood alone, valuing their freedom but now a man has arisen to power in Fort Xandra with a purpose to unite the settlements in one nation and under his rule. Several settlements have flocked to him for the protection he claims to offer for the ever increasing threat from within the mist but others refuse, stating that they have protected themselves for generations without a king on a throne.

Most of the settlements refusing the newly self-crowned ruler seem to be in fact trying to find ways to co-exist with whatever manner of beasts or spirits lurk within the mist around them. Leaving gifts and offerings at the edge of town believing by doing that they will be left alone and spared from the darker horrors that lurk within. Some even go as far as to sacrifice animals or even their fellow townspeople. Some volunteer for that honour while others... not so much. The people are highly superstitious and suspect many things that do not seem as they should, a trait instilled by their mothers and fathers sitting them down as wee babes and sharing with them tales and fables.

'The tale of Fabian, as heard told by a old sage in the town of Darkring.'


Gather 'round children, gather 'round... my bones are old, my eyes dulled but I have seen and heard much in my youth and I shall tell you now the tale of Fabian, to enrich your fantasies, but also to warn you for what arrogance and greed may lead you to...

Fabian, oh sweet and innocent Fabian, born a blessed child but became twice blessed due to arrogance and ignorance. The golden haired boy, the pride of his parents, the envy of his friends. All who knew him, loved him and he in turn loved all who paid attention to him. He was the son of the alderman and anything he wanted he would get from his parents or the other townsfolk. His beauty was unmatched by any of his age or ever witnessed before. 'Touched by the spirits he is!' They cried in adoration! 'A blessed child of the gods, a blessing for our entire village!' Shouted others.

And he was a blessing, bringing joy and laughter as he grew up to all who met him, but with age he grew arrogant and fat upon the adulation of the village and always expected to get what he wanted. Be it a sweet stick from the baker, or some fresh sausages of the butcher. He even once commanded his father to hose a festival in Fabians honour! And the folk of the village went along with it, because they truly believed that Fabian was blessed by the forest spirits and that if they kept him happy, the village would thrive as it had been since his birth.

Then one day, a travelling musician came through the village. His voice like an angel, the music coming from his flute brought out emotions long buried in any who heard it to the fore and men and women alike cried openly feeling their moods brightened and hearts yearning for more. But then the musician stopped playing and retrieved a wrapped parcel from his back, upon unwrapping it he revealed a very simple harp, no gold or silver embellishments, no artistic cut of the wood. It simply appeared to be a harp and then it began to play, by itself. And the music of the harp transcended to what the musician played moments earlier on his flute. Images of feasts from ancient times accompanied the music in the minds eye of all who heard it and danced to the tune until the entire village was dancing and feasting through the course of the night. Until finally at dawn, the mist miraculously lifted briefly so the rays of the sun could unobstructed touch the harp as it let out a final note.

All applauded and cheered and then a voice broke through, heard by everyone. 'I want that harp!' Fabian shouted, his arms crossed and looking at the harp with greed. The crowd murmured, looking from Fabian to the musician who looked surprised and shook his head. 'I am afraid I cannot sell nor give away this item. For you see it is not mine to give. I am merely its caretaker.' He said with a apologetic smile.

'I want it!' Fabian shouted angrily and looked at his father who nervously swallowed and addressed the musician. 'Where is this owner then perhaps I can pay him to keep the harp.'

The musician shook his head amused, 'she who owns the harp has no want for money, gold or riches. All she wishes is her music to be heard. To bring joy and dance. That is her reward. I travel with her from town to town, village to village. And she will play everywhere to be heard so that all may enjoy and experience her gift. So she cannot stay in one place.'

'I don't care! I want it!' Came Fabian's shout once more and the village folk murmured louder, they had always given the blessed child whatever he wanted, never had someone refused him. The musician no longer smiled, shaking his head. 'Young man she only plays when she wants and what she wants is to travel across the realm. You cannot change what is meant to be.' The musician stated calmly and went to wrap the harp back into cloth.

Fabian looked flabbergasted, nobody refused him! Nobody told him he could not have what he wanted! A rage came over him and he charged out of the throng of people at the musician. All were frozen with shock at what was happening and the musician was as surprised as any as Fabian slammed into him and both of them fell to the ground as Fabian, the blessed child began hitting the musician with his fists, over and over. The weather darkened and a strong, cold wind swept up around the village. Fabian stood up as a lightning strike thundered and boomed nearby, his fists red with blood, the musician lying broken on the ground in the village center. Triumphant he reached for the harp. 'I am the blessed child and I always get what I want!' He laughed with wide eyes as he grabbed the harp and held it aloft. 'Play! I wish to hear the music!'

No music came and more thunder strikes hit the area around the village, the villagers themselves looking on at the grisly scene in the center with open mouths, frozen in shock at what they had witnessed their blessed child do. 'Play! I said play damn you!' Fabian shouted and cursed, shaking the harp that was still silent. With a scream of rage he brought harp down on the ground and with a might crash it broke apart on the ground. 'If you will not play for me then you will not play for anyone!' Fabian shouted at the crowd.

The words left his lips as a enormous bolt of lightning smashed down upon the pieces of the harp which started to burn to ash, the smoke twirling, rising in a enormous shape that began to take solid form... as a spirit of the forest came into being. She let out a scream that made the ground tremble and houses collapse, sinkholes opened underneath people who fell into their depths. Many ran, away from the village into the mist which had gotten thicker and was suddenly filled with the sounds of gibbering and cackling voices before the screams of the villages drowned them out.

The spirit stopped screaming her burning gaze looking at all who remained before looking upon Fabian and she spoke directly into the minds of all present, bringing them to their knees as the voice in their heads was loud enough to deafen them. "A claim of a blessed child that was never blessed, a arrogance of your own creation. This boy is not blessed he shall be cursed and this village as well, twice cursed you all are and twice cursed you all shall remain till my music shall once more play!" She waved with her hand and before Fabians eyes the villagers that had remained, his own father and mother included, twisted and turning into malformed monstrosities of man and tree. As their transformation was finished and they all howled with pain and anguish the spirit turned to Fabian. "You shall forever know thirst, hunger and suffering. You shall not rest nor find bliss in dying of old age. You shall live forever, hunted by those who fed your arrogance to be torn apart at midnight only to be be brought back at dawn to start the cycle anew! Always shall you return here at the place of your crime and you shall forever be haunted by what you have done!" With a crack of thunder the forest spirit vanished, leaving Fabian in the middle of the ruined village center as the twisted forms of what were once his fellow villagers, his worshipers, began to move with purpose towards him, hatred burning in their glowing eyes. And then he screamed, for the first time, the first time of many as each dawn he would be reborn and the cursed villagers would hunt him again to tear him apart limb from limb over and over.

So hear me well children, never let arrogance and greed blind you.... and if a golden haired young man asks you for refuge and safety for the night. Refuse him and close the door, for what may be hunting him will kill any who dare stand in their path....
 
Carefully stating my interest in case this get's closed!
 
Tempest, I am so sorry that I am running late! These past two days have been rather busy and a bit emotional for me, thus I have been unable to finish my sheet. I do believe I have gotten 2/3 of it done and only need to finish up my character's biography. Thank you very much for the patience and for the information provided!

Greetings to all the new people! =D

PS: Just in case someone has a similar idea as me, I'm going to "clam" a name for my character. His name is [BCOLOR=transparent]Mirza[/BCOLOR] ibn Mahtab ibn Golshan bint Duha-ma-Tair bint Kianoush ibn Zahrah bint Mahir ibn Lamia bint Faruq ibn Faysal ibn Sa'di [BCOLOR=transparent]abd-Siavash Al-Shahnaz [/BCOLOR]or just Mirza, since it's his given name.
 
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Oh, I just read other's CS and I don't think you have approved Gat? I mean you don't say either it's accepted or needed some correction~ @Tempest
 
Temp is aware, we were chatting on steam last night, so I'm not particularly worried about the lack on an approval right now. :bsmile:
 
Oh I see~ ^^
 
I am soo digging this...I do hope it's not too late to submit a character.
 
No, no. I find it best that in Gat's case, it's easier to completely ignore his existence. : P

And yeah, still a chance to get in there, but I will be cutting off acceptance here soon, at least for the time being! We have quite a cast growing~
 
@Gat Deekin is accepted. Whose a fuzzy wuzzy kitty? Zane is, Zane is~ So cute.
 
This seems like great fun to me. If there was still room I would like to join.
 
That LARP Guy said:
This seems like great fun to me. If there was still room I would like to join.
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Yup. Draft up a sheet. You'll be just barely eeking in through the door. At this point, anyone who has not expressed interest so far, I will not be accepting o.o

That said:

@Drifter @norePly @Headphones @Skyswimsky checking that everyone is still alive and interested.

Figuring after we get everyone together and situated, I will start gathering all the stuff for the first IC post
 
Tempest said:
Yup. Draft up a sheet. You'll be just barely eeking in through the door. At this point, anyone who has not expressed interest so far, I will not be accepting o.o

That said:

@Drifter @norePly @Headphones @Skyswimsky checking that everyone is still alive and interested.

Figuring after we get everyone together and situated, I will start gathering all the stuff for the first IC post
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Yep, I'm still here and even have my sheet done, with the exception of a "unique 2" offensive piece, which I will likely think up today. Nevertheless, I will get the coding done right now and put the sheet up, so that you may critique it. I developed the slave aspect on my own accord and I do hope that everything will be acceptable. If you find any mistakes, especially at the end of the biography, please note that I finished it at half past 1 at night and my brain was half asleep at the time XD

Oh, and good morning to everyone! =3
 
Nice! I will have to go to sleep now, but I got some work done on my draft. Expect to hear from me tomorrow! Thanks for the acceptance. Think I will be playing an Orc, possibly Half-Orc character. Have some of the details figured out and spent my points. Onto the background when I am more conscious.
 
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