A green coat stretches over an angular body very much like a deer crossed with a reptile. His legs taper down to great long claws. Feathered white stockings fade at his major joints and peculiar faint yellow swirls decorate the rest of his legs. Two sets of thick antlers curve out his crown – one curves up above his extremely long ears, the other reaches out far to his shoulders. A full silver mane and tail fall to the ground and a thick beard and whiskers line his beakish jaw.
This race has a peculiar long life, some could live up to several centuries. But they are not immortal, disease and fatal wounds affect them like any other creature. For a beast, they are extremely intelligent and they have a unique communication of telepathy. They send images, feelings and, rarely, "thought", or words of the two-legged kind, along with body language. Although it heavily depends on the target's magic to receive these mental transmissions. For example, a Mann would have great difficulty either understanding the messages for they may be blurred or disorienting, or they completely cannot receive at all. They are capable of magic, but their abilities would range in the low-risk magics and their avatar is commonly the earth turtle. It is not known if they can use runes. These creatures live neutrally in the southern forests, and possibly one of the few "game" able to fight off the wolves. They travel in herds of around eight and eat both plants and meat.
Personality:A deep sadness penetrates though him. Jaqlyb is not easily roused to fight or angered, but if he ever was pushed to defense it’s to the death of his opponent. He’s more of a peace maker, the wise leader. He is not selfish but he is no hero. He contains lots of patience for others, and is a watcher and a learner.
An intelligent creature.
Occupation/Social Standing:A “game” deep in the southern forest. They are known in the area, but hardly ever killed by two-legged means unless they happen to be young and rash, or old and slow. But usually a wolf takes care of them before a hunter has a chance.
Naturally telepathic. But it depends on the target's "level" or ability in magic. He will not be able to communicate with a typical Mann.
Naturally clairvoyant (or Aura Vision) - varying in power from just visible auras to reading someone like a book from their auras, which is also linked to the target's magic.
Knowledgeable in edible and poisonous plants in the southern forest.
Skillful of his own body in ways of self-defense.
Agrella's Blessing -
> HealingMinor Wounds - He takes on the physical harm himself> Courage
Fatal Wounds - He gives a piece of his life to lengthen the other
Poison - He takes on the effects and banishes the poison from the other's body
To lend others his strength - He is weakened to a helpless foal> Defense
To support others in the invisible arts of magic - He cannot use any of Agrella's gifts as he lends the power to another. Depending on the usage of the other, he takes on the effects.
To put their insecurities at temporary rest - He takes on their fears as his own as long as a day. This is quite a drain on his energy and emotions.
Shield others from arcane harm - He takes on a certain amount of the damage* When I say energy, I mean the physical body energy not the magic. He gets drained and his body becomes like lead - hard to move and dodge.
Shield himself from arcane harm - Has to reflect it. May cause damage to others. A sudden drop in his energy
Shield others from physical harm - Takes on the full damage
Shield himself from physical harm - Has to reflect. May cause damage to others. A sudden drop in his energy.
Long Term Goals:A quest to relearn the world to accomplish and aid the quest against the Varg.
Bio:Jaqlyb was born and raised in the southern forest of a herd of five. He was one of the lucky few foals to live through quite a few “pickings” of the wolves until the herd merged with another. His mother taught him the magic, of hunters, of the ways of the forest, of the wolves that change on a particular night. She died from age dragging her down in the maws of a Varg.
And he grew into a handsome catch, a young stud that threw the leader onto his back and took up the role with a level head.
The Varg and the Azavi had their natural bouts throughout his years, and he accepted it as a “circle of life”. Until he met the Varg on a moonless night, and saw what they truly were. A pack of the Varg and his herd fell to ruin on the moonless night. It was a devastating sight to witness, his family fought to the death and brought the Vargs with them. The fight forced the herd out of the heart of the forest, to the edges where the Azavi panicked and littered the earth with their blood and bodies and those of the wolves.
Jaqlyb was the last standing. An anger and hatred filled him, a burning desire flamed inside. And the first Azavi to step out of the forest did so out of revenge – a need to understand the Varg, so he could crush them the way they shredded his foals and their mothers and his young bucks.
He roamed the country side for years, and his anger boiled down to a great sadness. It wasn't until then did Agrella, the God of Life, came to him in an intangible vision on a restless night. He was bestowed a great magic by the God for one purpose - to aid those who dare the quest against the Varg.
NYAMA (Harry Potter RP)
Name: Adelfonsus Unwen
Nickname: Addie (at school), Fonsus (at home)
Height: around 6'
Approximate Weight: 185 +/-
Blood Status: Muggle-born
Wand: Beech with Dragonheart String, 9”
Personality:Pretty easy-going, though he comes off as an idiot as he hides his intelligence from school and home. And he is seen as slightly crazy with his habit of speaking to his pet turtle, Gus, and acting as if the small creature could respond back to him like a human. Addie likes to joke around but when he makes a decision, he stands on it to the very end no matter what.
Bio:Adelfonsus' family lived in the country side of Washington, the state on the west side of the Cascade Range. They had five acres of rolling hills dedicated to their ancient grape vines and small orchard. A villa, handmade made by an ancestor, sat three stories high on it's own little bump in the land (it have several renovations throughout the years) with a store at the bottom of the hill, selling the handcrafted wines, jellies from the orchard and even a seasonal cider.
His family was once fully muggle until a few generations back when a wizard married into the family.
Adelfonsus was the only child who promised magic in his tender years. He was the great-great-great grandson of the wizard. His family was, at first, nervous of his super-naturalness and almost sent him to a voodoo practitioner to get rid of "it", until his letter arrived. It explained he would be taught to control it (he had once set fire to a tractor in a bout of anger), and they slowly came to accept the magic as a natural thing after Adelfonsus' first year.
He moved from the country to the city to live with his eccentric aunt during the school years, where he was completely out of his elements. He kept a steady distance from his peers, feeling as if he didn’t belong and they treated him as such. Until this year, when he came back not as the lanky and muttering kid in the corner, but as a tall and impressive-looking guy . . . with a few quirks.
Addie has a hidden interest in creating “magics” – charms, knick-knacks - which he started at year 3. He is also an unregistered animagus in the very beginning stages and training. His form, so far, is unknown.
The RebellionHe stands at 5’10 with a lean muscular build with no particularly emphasis of his shoulders or waist. His light blonde wavy locks are slicked back underneath a leather driving cap he most likely stole. A few strands drop around his thick black eyebrows of which shades his steel grey eyes that take on a shielded light. He usually is seen in a stained vest layering on a red-brown sleeved shirt with its arms rolled to his elbows and is tucked in black trousers of which heavy boots lace up just below his knees.
He keeps a switchblade tucked at his hip and clipped on his belted pants, hidden under his vest. His handmade weapon is of small damage – a converted pistol capable of emitting stunning electric shocks in a range of five feet from the nozzle. He only uses this if it’s absolutely necessary for supplying and recharging the weapon is difficult.
Personality:A crude and sarcastic man. A man who is ever-changing like a flame with a quick whim. But there are some points he is stubborn about, especially his leadership of the gang.
Bio:Palmar was born homeless from a whore, and left at an orphanage like some sort of shame. At age five, he worked in the factories in the assembly lines that needed nimble fingers to pick out damaged or unsatisfying copies of certain mechanics. Once he hit the double digits, he left the orphanage in an ego he could fend for himself, but he ended up skittering on the edges of the slums to simply breathe easily. It wasn’t long when the bigger and powerful gangs came knocking on his skull and pressuring him to join their many mindless ranks. Palmar refused and resisted with a stunning stamina. He already was under the authority of the factories. He was already a step less than the person ahead of him in the assembly lines. He wasn’t going to leave those grey prisons only to alter under a different “leadership” in a single day!
Though, staying a single individual in the slums proved to be one of the greatest hardships Palmar took on. The rat holes quickly ate up the terrified kid from the orphanage and spat out a crude man in head of a small but effective gang.
The times changed just as dramatically. The slums were quickly eroding to a hellion of violence as the people shifted restlessly. Partners had become ideal. And Palmar sought out individuals, or individuals came to him, one-by-one with little to no question. The group was kept small for he needed to be on the move quickly. He never kept a stationary base except for one place tucked away in the grits of the slums. A gaming station that was hardly used by the working class due to its credibility of quality, it was one of those private stations with a few units. That place one was sure to find him on a nearly daily basis.
If one asked him of the Rebellion, he would laugh and say it was all made up. It would change nothing – someone has to be on top, and someone on the bottom. He would rather stay a gang leader than join the ranks of some Rebellion like some shitless follower. He would rather take on the slums for the rest of his life than follow some impossible, an intangible idea that could never be stimulated. But, of course, that belief didn't stop him from expressing his hatred of the blue-bloods and their damn factories and fucking money and their disgusting robotic tech.
Skills:Skills in the Game are top notch. The Game was more than once a life-line for him. He takes on a knight or barbarian in the fantastical digital land.
Skills in real life are rather unique. He knows the slums like the back of his hand, and so he can navigate through them like a mouse or snake, with little trail left behind. Palmar knows the best hiding places, the best market stalls, the best anything. He can fight efficiently, fists for knives, for it gained him a stable reputation not to be messed with.
His whim, though, can get him obsessed over small things quickly - and more than once forced him to learn things quickly to stay on his feet or keep his ground.
He does not believe in the Rebellion. He would rather take on the slums for the rest of his life than follow some impossible, an intangible idea that could never be stimulated.
The RebellionHe is young and fresh looking, having just started his life. His body is weak physically, but his mind is nearly on a genius level.
Name: Dagan Toma
Dagan takes on the opposite appearance of a Toma. Instead of straight black hair, he sports a natural brunette color with a little wave at the ends. He keeps it short and out of his face, although the locks do like to curl on humid days. His eyes are a dull green and give an impression he is not impressed with anything one says.
With his new disownment, he wears the common man clothes and sits legless from the knees down in a basic wheel chair. But he has kept a personal tool kit out of an old habit for his leg robotics.
Bio:Dagan Toma was born to a wealthy family. He was born sickly and weak. A permanent disease wracks his body in atonic seizures, it’s incurable but containable the doctors said. But his shriveled and oddly bent calves had to go. They were amputated and replaced with robotics which had to be switched out almost yearly in his childhood.
The family he was born into is deep and vast in almost all branches of mechanics in robotics; the most recent product is realistic limbs with “skin”. Toma Industries also began supplying full body units for gaming stations; it was an easy profit for a long period. But recently, Toma made a leap into A.I. – a product that would soon begin to replace the working class. If it ever was accomplished.
Dagan grew up with two older siblings, learning the family business while participating in school. Robotics soon became a hobby, and his father soon integrated him into the A.I projects at age eighteen when Dagan was declared his heir. Dagan’s siblings then created their own lives, pursued their own careers while he watched countless creations die in labs with no explanations.
One heavy day, Dagan was introduced to the Game by his brother. He spoke of the working class and their little penchant for the alternate reality. It’s a hazard to us, his brother had said, keep away from it at all costs. But Dagan took an immediate interest to it. If there was a key for a real mind to work a fake body, couldn’t he simply modify that key to do the exact opposite? A.I. didn’t seem so farfetched of an idea anymore. But he couldn’t propose the thought to his father in fear of disownment if his brother’s words were true.
Instead, he impersonated a worker class member with the new “real” robotics. His gait was stiff with a limp, but he easily entered a popular gaming station with Riot Police on guard for mishaps. He never played the Game; he studied the security monitors that displayed the code intently while chatting away with the police. He kept a welcoming profile there, and gave only his first name to any who asked. The code was difficult to crack, but he soon was jotting down malfunctions and odd fabrications of the code – hoping to break the key.
This secret lasted a year (he started this at age twenty) with only a single crisis of his brother nearly discovering it. Dagan knew he was on a brink of cracking the key one fateful day. He was about to make history, he thought when he traversed back home. He was going to break the greatest achievements in his bedroom! was his last thought when Palmar plummeted into his life and body.
Personality:A bit of an introvert and snarky after his ordeal with Palmar. He takes in more interest in mechanics than people.
Skills:No skills in the Game other than its literal computerization and the workings of the units.
Extensive knowledge in robotics and their inner workings from his internship with his father and the secret projects with A.I..
Extensive knowledge in the current trends of all mechanics, and the “blue-blood world”. He has many connections, or knew many people of the top manufacturers and owners of several companies. His family also had entertained many government officials for several dinners, so he knows names to faces of such officials.
Nearly genius level of intelligence although he usually keeps his mouth shut.
Extra:So far, he has no clue of the rumor of the Rebellion. That talk is kept to the dark corners of the slums, not in the public stations. So he is of no opinion just yet.
He has a disease which needs a special pill every three days to keep it in check.
Valentine “Val” Terry
Appearance:In the game, he's a half-elf. Not quite fair looking as an elf nor rugged as a human but retains an odd handsomeness about him with braided brown hair and eyes. He stands at six feet with a fiery gauntlet on his left hand. Like every new character, he wears simple clothes with basic protection. Like that of a traveler, he bears a creamy cloth tunic tucked into pilgrim tights with basic leather armor of a vest, gauntlets (one of which is magical) and leggings with some boots.
Out of the game, he's black haired with hazel eyes of grey dotted with green and gold. Hitting barely at 5' 8", he's roughly average in looks with a rather stiffness about him belying to the intelligence he is gifted with.
Bio:Valentine "Val" Terry had never played a game before, board or card or video. His life was heavily based on academics strictly set up by his parents on the thought and concern of preparing him for the harsh world. They had planned for him to get the best grades so he could enter any institution he wanted - if it were at least a practical decision on his part. His younger sister on the other hand, is completely the opposite. Rebellious, demanding and loud - she always manages to do the things he's always secretly wished to do.
Despite having an artsy sister who waylays every plan made for her, Val has a difficult time expressing himself verbally, physically and artistically. He holds himself in a stiff and awkward way usually with a neutral expression and guarded eyes. Unlike what one would perceive, Val is extremely intellectual and catches quickly on just about anything.
With his life about to start in college, Val had decided to open up his repressed self and try things his parents forbade. He had no idea he would end up in a game, trapped.
Skillset:Val is a complete noob in the mechanics of the game, but he seems to have a knack in sneaking around enemies and traps.
Pyromancy of the Arcane - Novice level
Security - Novice level
Sneak - Apprentice level
Light Armor - Novice Level
Archery - Novice Level
Mission:It's a bit personal, but Val feels he could experiment here in the game. To try and find himself, and open up to others. To see who he really is without his parents molding him into some form or other.
Xander Andreas / 12 / MalePersonality:Generally, he's mellow and contemplative, but Xander had never been afraid to express himself especially when it comes down to some passion or a stubbornly held belief. He’s an observer then a doer, and he "dos" until he gets it right.Family:Xander’s uncle was a hired hand and traveled constantly from various and higher families to guard their material requests until they reached their destination. Xander’s aunt followed her husband with her own trade as an herbalist.
They only settled down when word came to them part of their family had been struck hard by some accident with a few survivors. One of lucky ones was Xander at the tender age of three and no one could afford another mouth to feed.
After bringing Xander home, the aunt and uncle soon found out he was a mute with a hearty fire that burned in passion of exploring. Where they lived was great for his expansive curiosity. A cozy little cottage/shop with a garden in a village where the uncle occasionally lent a hand filled Xander’s world.
He was first interested in his aunt’s work and all her magical herb mixtures. He would sit by her side at the crowded dark table of books, dried plants and papers, and she would teach him every use of every plant in the garden when she bundled up customers’ requests. Strangely, it was pure torture for him to sit and learn to read and write.
When he was old enough to wield any sort of weapon carefully, Xander pestered his uncle to teach him. He learned the basics of the sword (his practice weapon was wooden) before he was shipped off to Roland for higher training.
Xander’s aunt made many connections within the many families she and her husband worked for. When it was brought to her attention Roland was seeking for students, she wasted no time in getting Xander out there for a higher education than she or her husband could ever give him.Stats:
Skills:Combat: 8 (from 7.75)
Block:Block St: 9
Block Sp: 7
Block E: 8Marksmanship: 7
Low Magic: 9
High Magic: 9