The Kingdom of Astaeron (Sign-ups always open!)

@Ordered_Chaos You are missing something in your character sheet, please review the rules and then revise as needed. It's just a small thing though, and it looks lovely otherwise.

@SirDerpingtonIV Your character is lovely and accepted. PM away.

@TheSakuraBreeze Your character is also lovely and accepted.
 
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  • Marabella is an 8-year-old orphaned human with magical abilities.

  • Marabella is a very small girl, both short and with a tiny body. She is slender and has tiny hands. She has light skin, long, light brown hair that falls in thick waves, and big blue eyes. She has a petite nose and average lips. She has only one dress, a very simple brown one that she was wearing when she first woke up. She always wears a golden heart-shaped locket.

  • Marabella is incredibly quiet and reserved. She seems shy, and very rarely talks. On occasion, however, she will seemingly select one person and begin talking to them. Though she will reject interaction with others, she will always talk to this one person. She does this until she grows bored with them or they betray her; nobody knows why she does this, not even her.

  • Marabella woke up on a beach one morning with no memories or knowledge of anything but basic common sense and language skills. She was eight years old and wore a brown dress and a golden locket in the shape of a heart. The locket had the word "Marabella" engraved on the back, which she decided must be her name. There were no pictures inside the locket, only a tiny folded piece of paper that said "I love you always" in smudged writing.

    Marabella began to wander around, trying to find some sort of civilization or people who could help her. She arrived in Astaeron after a few days, and when someone realized that she was alone and wandering, they took her to the orphanage. The orphanage in Astaeron is small, and houses only six or seven children at the moment, including Marabella. It is run by an NPC assistant and is in need of a qualified matron to take over, because handling the orphanage is too big a job for one NPC who isn't even qualified.
 
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  • Marabella is an 8-year-old orphaned human with magical abilities.

  • Marabella is a very small girl, both short and with a tiny body. She is slender and has tiny hands. She has light skin, long, light brown hair that falls in thick waves, and big blue eyes. She has a petite nose and average lips. She has only one dress, a very simple brown one that she was wearing when she first woke up. She always wears a golden heart-shaped locket.

  • Marabella is incredibly quiet and reserved. She seems shy, and very rarely talks. On occasion, however, she will seemingly select one person and begin talking to them. Though she will reject interaction with others, she will always talk to this one person. She does this until she grows bored with them or they betray her; nobody knows why she does this, not even her.

  • Marabella woke up on a beach one morning with no memories or knowledge of anything but basic common sense and language skills. She was eight years old and wore a brown dress and a golden locket in the shape of a heart. The locket had the word "Marabella" engraved on the back, which she decided must be her name. There were no pictures inside the locket, only a tiny folded piece of paper that said "I love you always" in smudged writing.

    Marabella began to wander around, trying to find some sort of civilization or people who could help her. She arrived in Astaeron after a few days, and when someone realized that she was alone and wandering, they took her to the orphanage. The orphanage in Astaeron is small, and houses only six or seven children at the moment, including Marabella. It is run by an NPC assistant and is in need of a qualified matron to take over, because handling the orphanage is too big a job for one NPC who isn't even qualified.
oh god Krados could totally adopt her XD
 
Name: Boulevard Valtiel
Age: 200
Gender: Male
Species: Metalborn


Physical Description: Boulevard is a large man, standing at 8'9". The only sign of his age his balding hair, his body is toned and fit, from years working as a smith. His skin is grey, and he's made of solid metal. He's barrel chested and has a short beard. His eyes are a solid golden yellow. His weight varies greatly as his composition changes frequently, though he is always in the range of several hundred pounds or more.

Personality: Friendly, but not outgoing, he keeps to himself mostly.

Bio/History: He's lived a short life, for one of his species. He grew up in his kingdom, an underground nation not far from the core of the planet, where the heat and pressure kill any creature not properly protected. From a young age he was trained in magic and swordsmanship, when he was old enough to choose for himself he chose the prestigious profession of being a smith.

He's had his body enchanted with many enchantments, like most other Metalborn smiths:
  • Damage Resistance- He's been enchanted with the same enchantment that is on his sword, making his body unbreakable.
  • Magic Control- He's able to physically control magic, shaping it with his hands and preventing any stray magic he may be working with from hurting his body.
  • Electricity- He can control and shape electricity without fear of harm to himself.
  • Mana Fount- As some smithing requires high amounts of mana, he's been enchanted to counter the drain that otherwise would come with such smithing.
  • Longevity- Metalborn have immortal life spans, but being a smith tends to shorten that, this enchantment resurrects him once before having to be reapplied. His body will be returned to its prime.
  • Holy Seal- His right arm is enchanted to handle Holy magics and power.
  • Seal of the Spawn- His left arm is enchanted to handle the opposite magics and power, of his right.
  • Speed- He's been enchanted to be faster, able to zip around a forge for maximum efficiency.
  • Strength- He's been enchanted to be even stronger than regular Metalborn, able to move an anvil as easily as one might move a bread box.
  • Ice- Since he may have to handle ice magic, and cold temperatures make him brittle, he's been enchanted to withstand extreme cold better than other Metalborn, not getting brittle until the temperature is pretty close to zero degrees Kelvin.
He decided to explore the world and left the nation to travel to Astaeron, one of the many nations that were friendly with the Metalborn nation.

Other details: He is a master smith, and can produce the best quality items, if he has the appropriate equipment of course. He doesn't use a shield, and his only weapon is a giant claymore, enchanted against breaking or wearing, and able to channel his magic into each attack.
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Does this character have any weaknesses? I read through the entire page about his species and his entire bio and I couldn't see any weaknesses that hadn't been countered by the enchantments you put on him. Basically he's immortal and indestructible? That's somewhat overpowered....
 
He's heavy, and he has no mental protection of any kind. He has no special immunity to acid, something stronger, being detained such as falling in quick sand or bound in layers of metal or rock, or being outsmarted.
Him being heavy is his greatest weakness, unless psychic powers are prevalent then that would probably be his biggest weakness.
He's not immortal, his resurrection enchantment works once, then has to be applied again, but he's a smith so he doesn't know how to reapply it. He's physically indestructible yes, unless his enchantments are overpowered, removed, corrupted, or negated by superior magic.
Metalborn forges are huge, and to prevent major loss of life from an accident the workers are enchanted to add protection, since casting an enchantment is easier than waiting for someone to become a smith, so he's OP but his offensive capabilities are limited. He's not supposed to be a fighter, he's a different kind of artist.

I can change it though if you want, though I need to know what you want me to change specifically. Or I can add more to explain his weaknesses.
 
That explanation is sufficient. Your comment at the end about him not being built to fight also helped your cause :P
 
:)
The Metalborn is a Race I use in different RPs, I made them for one but they work with others.
 
Ha ha, I like it, though, a tip, add rotatable joints if you want maximum battle ability, in another rp of course. Herzius would just destroy his joints and tie him up to prevent further damage.
 
I reitterate, in case you didn't catch it, "add rotatable joints if you want maximum battle ability,"
 
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I love your siggy. It makes me giggle and then want ice cream waffles.
 
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Its kind of a reminder to myself about the delicious meal I discovered from an associate in college. I had forgotten about it since I hide signatures.
 
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| Sythera in her Dryad form. | Credit |



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Name: Sythera

Race: Corrupted Dryad

Gender: Female

Age: 378 Years (Although, she appears to be somewhere between her mid-twenties to early-thirties.)

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Black

Skin Color: Blue

Height: 5'9"

Weight: 120 lbs.



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Tauric was a wood-cutter by trade, supplying the lumber that kept the Queen warm 'n' toasty in her castle during the long winter nights. His life was measured not by days and nights, but by how many cords of lumber he could obtain from the Dark Woods; he had always been a dedicated fellow. Perhaps, a bit too dedicated, for Tauric had no wife or children. He was a handsome enough man, burly with dark, striking features. Despite this, Tauric was simply the type that preferred to focus on what he found most important in life: his work. During one lumber haul out into the Dark Woods, Tauric heard what he perceived to be the voices of a group of singing women.
Their beautiful voices echoed throughout the woods, phantasmic and haunting. Tauric found himself consumed with the desire to find these women, to find their hypnotizing voices. Alas, whenever Tauric would seek the voices out, they eluded him. It seemed to Tauric that the singing was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Days passed. Every chance he got, Tauric would roam the woods in search for the mesmerizing, illusory singers, his desire growing evermore fervent.

That is until, one day, Tauric happened upon a small glen where the light shone through the treetops--quite unusual for the Dark Woods. The voices had been especially strong that day, and, with each step, Tauric had heard them become increasingly prevalent. He hid in the undergrowth and peered out into the glen, to see what he could see. There, just beyond the treeline sat a beautiful woman in front of a tree. There she sat: her skin pale green, her eyes dark, and her emerald-colored hair glistening in the sun. It was her! She was the source of the music.

She sat surrounded by other woman, each next to their own tree. They hummed along with her, forming pleasant harmonies. However, just then, the euphony was interrupted. One of the women had lifted a delicate finger, pointing it in Tauric's direction. Not wanting to be rude, and eager to meet the women whose voices had plagued his dreams for many a week, Tauric revealed himself.

A scream pierced the air all around.

Tauric bent forward in pain, cupping his hands over his ears. When he removed them and looked up, he was dismayed to see that every single woman had vanished. Tauric was crushed. He had sought the women for so long, and they had fled from him. Tauric's only reprieve was in knowing that the women actually did exist, and were not just some figment of his imagination. Although it was a setback, Tauric's desire to know these women had grown in intensity. He would return to this glen every day, searching for the women. It took three months before he ever caught sight of them again.

This time, there was only one woman. She sang a lonely melody, unaccompanied by her sisters. Tauric walked slowly, cautiously towards her. She saw him, but did not appear to pay him any heed until he stood a fairly short distance away from her crouching form. The song stopped.

"Why do you seek us, mortal?" Asked a lilting voice. It was clear and pleasant, like the tinkling of bells, although it did not seem to come from the crouching woman. She hadn't even lifted her head to gaze at the unknown man. Instead, the question seemed to come from somewhere deep in the forest. Although Tauric was not sure the woman had asked the question, his answer was aimed in her direction anyways.

"The beauty of your voices has led me here. I have listened to your sweet sounds every day for nearly six months, and I wish only to meet you." Tauric replied, his voice faltering a bit.

"Do you know who it is you address?" Questioned the voice.

"No, I do not."

"I am Asynra, the Mother of the Dryads of the Western Woods. We wish for you to leave us," announced the voice.

Tauric looked for the source of the voice in the woods, enraged by its rejection, before saying, "B-b-but, I don't mean you or your daughters any harm. I simply wish to watch as you sing. I only--" Tauric was startled when the voice cut off his reply in a sharp, "Enough!"

"You shall leave, and you shall not return." When Tauric turned back towards the spot where the woman had been crouching, she was gone. Tauric called out to the voice, begged it for one more chance, but there was no reply. There was only silence.

As Tauric made his way home, feeling broken-hearted and defeated, he thought he heard a giggle behind him. He pivoted his waist to see what he could see. There, hiding behind a tree, was the young, beautiful woman he had seen so many months ago. She was still breathtaking. Coyly, she stood, half-hidden, behind a tree, clutching at its sides while laughing. At the sight of her, Tauric was filled with mirth.

"Hello there, little man," The voice said, in a mocking tone.

Tauric was so shocked that it took him a moment to say, "Greetings, m'lady."

"Don't mind my mother. She is so harsh sometimes. You and I should get to know each other." Sythera had watched the man for a very long time. Well, it would be more accurate to say a very short time, as time for a Dryad is a rather abundant resource. As long as their spirit tree lives, so do they. For this reason, Dryads can live for hundreds of years. A year is merely the blink of an eye for them. Sythera was one of the younger Dryads. She was only about 400 years old, which is most likely where her naivete stems from.

Before the wood-cutter, Sythera had never had any contact with humans. She had no idea what they were capable of. So, the wood-cutter began to seek her every day. And, every day, Sythera would reveal herself to him. With time, they developed a friendship, which soon turned romantic in nature. Tauric had fallen so deeply in love with the mystical Sythera.

During one of their many conversations, Tauric remarked, "I only wish that you could return home with me. Many of the men in the village think me mad, spending all my time out here in the woods, but they don't know that I am spending my time with you. If only you could return with me, and share my home. You could be my wife." His tone was wistful.

"Nonsense! I am a Dryad, Tauric. I am not meant to be cooped up in some human dwelling. My place is here, among the trees and the animals." Sythera replied, a bit frustrated that he had brought up this subject again.

"But, what if there were a way? Would you do it? Would you return with me?" Tauric prodded insistently.

"Tauric, stop this. This fantasy of yours is not going to happened." Sythera said, her tone especially cross. Tauric knew that pushing further would not be very smart. While Tauric did not bring the subject anymore in their conversations, the prospect still weighed heavily on his mind. His heart grew greedy to have Sythera as he saw other men have women: as wives, as mothers to their children. In desperation, he sought out a sorcerer who could help him find a way to make a life with Sythera possible.

After much searching, Tauric was successful. Deep in the Dark Woods, Tauric enlisted the aid of a witch named Grunja. She told him, "Chop down the tree that contain her spirit. At the very center, you will find a golden sap. Fill this vial with it, and bring it back to me. If you do as I say, you will have your wife, deary." So, Tauric did as he was told. When he arrived at the tree, Sythera begged him to stop.

"This is for your own good," was his only response as he hacked with an expert precision and strength. Each hack was like a stab in the back for Sythera. The pain was immense, and she could feel her life fading with each moment. Just as the witch said, there was the golden sap at the very center of the tree. Tauric dipped his vial into it. Promptly, he delivered the full vial to the witch, who simply said, "Good. Very good." The witch went inside her hut, and came out a few minutes later.

"Your prize awaits you. Go back to the tree, and you shall find your bride. Tauric did go back to the tree, but it was not a bride that he found there. Instead, a grotesque creature with eyes of inky blackness, hair of ravens' feathers, and skin of blue lay in a fetal position on the stump.
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| Sythera in her corrupted form. | Credit |

Her eyes fluttered open, and tears began to trail down the sides of her face. She wailed and pointed at Tauric. In shock and fear, Tauric ran from the creature. Consumed by rage and hatred, Sythera chased him down and killed the man. This is the story of the Corrupted Dryad.
Chip
 
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Thank you. Personally, I look at it less as a depiction of Baphomet, and more of a depiction of the Wiccan God and Goddess.