My Storage of All Things CS

[Kho]

Name

Oradin Montariy


Age

One Thousand and Forty Eight


Race

Human


Faction

Aertheria


Personality

Oradin Montariy is a stubborn man, what he does not like is set in, and what he likes has also set in, and it’s very difficult to change the way an old man works. He has made his mind up about much of the world, and in his wisdom he has decided that what he thinks is correct. Oradin deals with all problems brought to him with a harsh justice, and once his punishment or reward has been ordered, he will not take it back.

You may be thinking that as hard-hearted and stubborn as he may seem, Oradin may have a soft spot for certain things, such as people in trouble, or animals or children, and that he may go to extremes to help out anyone in need, or save an animal or even smile at a child. If so, you thought wrong, for he has no such "soft spots" the only reason he does all these things is because he seeks redemption, and no, he doesn't like children thank you very much...or so he claims ._. uh hum >.>

He also has a weird since of humor which can contradict his seemingly "high and mighty" personality, be prepared for some VERY strange things.

History

Oradin was Forty Eight when the War of the Skies dawned, still considered a child by his fellow Aertherians, no one would think that he would grow to become the ruler of the land. Oradin saw much death and destruction in the War of the Skies, many of his friends perished, his family was completely annihilated by a single beam from the strange weapons the Sky People – or Earthers as they are now called – had. Still, he fought alongside his many comrades many of them centuries older than himself, and he learnt from them - and from the war - what no man could have taught him. The first thing he learnt was the “art” of survival. Yes, Oradin learnt that survival itself was an art, how to see but not be seen, to hear but not be heard, to feel but no be felt, to kill…but not be killed. In that is an art some can learn, but few ever live to master. Not only did he learn how to survive, he was forced to master the use of several weapons, and flung into the more violent side of magic, delving into even the darkest and most forbidden magics. The war lasted a long time, or maybe it didn’t, maybe it lasted a short time but Oradin felt like it had lasted so long, for he changed very much…too much. The man he was before was unrecognizable as the man he had become, one haunted by ghosts of death and destruction, one who had lost everything and gained everything, for he could bring back all he lost if he so wished, but what was the point? Let the dead remain dead, the past be the past, bygones be bygones.

It was then that the gods acted, too late for death to take Oradin, too soon for him to retain a speck of innocence. The war was over almost immediately, the seemingly invincible Sky People were completely crushed by pure, unadulterated magic. Nothing remained. Everything that had once been Aertheria was no more. Oradin did not stay, what was left to stay for? No, he would go out into this new world, and he would come to know it, he would learn more about it, become something in this chaotic land. Things did not turn out as bad as the dark minded young warrior mage anticipated however, for the Sky People had not destroyed as much as Oradin first thought, Aertheria had merely gotten the brunt of the invasion. This however did not change his warped soul, and he travelled on, spreading despair wherever he went, learning the magic of other people, even managing to get an old elf who had lost all hope in the world to teach him some of the magic which elves mastered. For centuries he travelled like this, killing any who dared even raise their voice against him, learning from those who saw in him potential for power, or from those he blackmailed and threatened.

This could not go on however; someone had to put a stop to this marauding chaos bringer, the only one who still hung onto the War of the Skies after so long. So it was that in his third century of existence, Oradin met the love of his life. He was once again on the road, going to wherever it led him, when he stumbled upon the severely injured and unconscious body of a woman. She was strange and very alluring, and Oradin was immediately drawn to her. He carried her in his arms until night fall, which was when he set up camp in a small cave half a mile or so from the road. He cast a few healing spells he’d learnt on his travels, nothing too powerful as he did not want to over-heal her, when a plant is over watered it dies, when a person is over-healed, they will also die. Leaving the recovering lady, he went out to find something to eat, magic was a mighty weapon, but he could not create food. He could plant a tree and make it grow, but there was a stark difference between a tree full of fruits and a full course meal. He returned with a few small animals over his shoulder. When he came to the cave, he found her awake. At first she was frightened of him, asking if he was the one sent to kill her. Oradin assured her that he had no intention of doing such things, and that he could never live with himself should he kill such a beautiful lady. She had been quiet after those words, and they ate in silence.

“You would not be able to live with yourself you say?” she whispered in a strange tone after she had finished eating. Oradin looked up, slightly apprehensive.
“I…I guess not” he said carefully.

“Yet you can live with yourself after killing many innocents and spreading chaos and destruction on this peaceful world?” her tone was not harsh, just sad, and the sadness ate into Oradin like a horde of carnivorous beasts, wanting to spread the feeling into every corner of his being.
“…” he looked at the ground before him, sitting down in a cave in the middle of nowhere. What was he doing here? He went over the past few centuries in his mind. It was all the same, getting on the road, reaching a town or village or city, learning what he wanted, then destroying and killing, then getting back on that road. That long, never ending road. Why? Why did he always go back to the road? Could he not stay in one place without destroying it?

The lady – who had said her name was Eredith - had turned away from him then, and gone to sleep. Oradin however did not sleep, he spent the next few nights without sleep, and when his lady companion spoke to him, he made no reply. As they walked on the road on the fourth day, Oradin suddenly stopped. She turned to him questioningly.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Do I deserve to live? After everything I have done?” he looked her right in the eyes, his eyes icy. She cocked her head to the right slightly, and said with a simple shake of her head;
“No” and they stood staring at each other for a while. Oradin looked at this beautiful woman who stood before him, she had jumped into his life and destroyed everything he knew and thought, but he felt no hostility towards her, he only felt an aching need to stay by her.
“Then I deserve death” he said as he unsheathed his great sword (pictured) and prepared to impale himself on it. She was upon him immediately, holding his hand in an attempt to restrain him, worry showing clearly in her eyes.


“NO! You don’t deser- I mean…you do deserve death, but as long as you’re alive you have time to repent, you have time to try and do good, make people remember you in a different light” there was desperation in her voice, but he only heard the truth of her words. He nodded slowly as he coaxed his hands out of hers and sheathed his sword.

“Repent…” he looked at her and smiled, “that sounds like a good idea.”
And so they took to the road, but for a different purpose this time. Where once Oradin had travelled alone, he now had a companion, where once he’d spread death and destruction and corruption in the land, he sought to bring life, to build and to bring all villains and criminals to justice. For many years he and Eredith journeyed, going back to places Oradin had visited previously and doing whatever good they could. In the end however, both travelers had to settle down. Finding a beautiful isolated spot, the two built themselves a home, and there they dwelt for many years, in relative peace and happiness, isolated from the rest of the world. Oradin found the time to sit and read the many books and tomes he’d collected over the years, expanding his knowledge on the world and magic in general dramatically. Eredith enjoyed living with a man she had slowly grown to love, and so both prospered.

However, as is the way of the world, nothing is eternal, and death finally separated the two lovers. They had no children, for their love had never been a physical one, rather one of the spiritual type, one which fulfilled and satisfied more than any kind of physical love. This however made the blow even more difficult for Oradin to deal with. For many months afterwards, as he sat before the great gravestone he had created for her, he contemplated ending his life and joining her, but words from the past echoed in his mind, and he knew that he had not yet redeemed himself.

“I may have repented, but the path to redemption is a long one…” and he remembered Erediths words “as long as you’re alive you have time” and with those words echoing in his mind, he made his way to his distant homeland, one he had abandoned centuries ago.

And so, in Oradins fifth century of existence, he returned to his homeland; Aertheria. When he returned, Aertheria had changed much; it had become a prosperous and mighty kingdom, ruled over by a wise and gentle king. Oradin allowed himself to become part of society once more, working as an instructor in a mage academy, having put down his sword and armor long ago, and replacing them with the staff and white robes of a magician. As an instructor, he passed on much of his acquired knowledge, and revisited old ideas. He witnessed and later took part in public debates and meetings on the way magic worked, and conducted further study into the essence of magic, delving into the forbidden arts behind the scenes, not for malicious or evil reasons, but for the sake of expanding his knowledge on the one thing he had ever loved besides Eredith: magic.

It was in his sixth century of existence that a great evil arose in Aertheria, an evil in the form of a witch of great power. The witch managed, through will laid schemes and plans, to destroy the monarchy which ruled over Aertheria. Legend tells of a mighty wizard who destroyed this witch. Oradin was that wizard. The death of the monarch did not only bring chaos to Aertheria, it also brought instability to the new and stable life Oradin had built as an instructor and great scholar of magic, and if there was anything Oradin hated, then it was anyone or anything that got between him and learning more about his beloved magic…he also needed to redeem himself, so getting rid of evil villains who brought destruction was an extra bonus (^^’)

Oradin spent many months seeking out the witches abode, not being able to use magic to track her down as she had created many seals and charms which prevented her from being tracked through magic. However, by following rumors and the shadows of stories, Oradin finally found her hide out, the place she had schemed and planned and destroyed Aertheria’s prosperity from. Getting into her strange hide out was only the first of Oradins problems; once he got in he found that she had summoned many fiendish minions of the darkest kind. Ghouls and hellhounds, demons and devilish creatures which Oradin had only read of in the darkest tomes and books. But Oradin was no weakling or stranger to the dark arts, in fact, he too could summon these strange and terrible creatures, but darkness could only be fought with light, and he would use the powers of the lighter side of magic to defeat this fearsome witch he now faced. However, once he had fought his way past the witch’s minions, Oradin faced one more challenge. A challenge which very nearly destroyed him. He faced his love.

Before him, in a strange wispy, ethereal form, hovered Eredith. Oradin knew this magic, it was a form of necromancy, an art he had leaned towards after the War of the Skies, for he had sought to bring back those whom he had lost, before his quest for knowledge turned to lust for it that is. Standing before Eredith, with the incantation to destroy her on his tongue, Oradin stopped, unable to do it. That was when a huge spiritual explosion took place, and the enraged face of the ghostly Eredith was upon him, tearing into his spirit, his very soul. To this day he hasn’t fully recovered from the spiritual attack, for wounds of the soul take much longer to heal than those of the flesh. In desperation, pain and rage, Oradin had cast a forbidden spell which melted the ghostly spirit and turned it into shadowy figure under Oradins control. Combining his weakened soul with the shadowy figure, the enraged Oradin had stormed into the witch’s library, where she dwelled. For a few moments he was stunned by the treasury of books which lay before him, but he had no time to admire the knowledge within the huge room, for the witch was immediately upon him, sending all types of dark curses at him.

The battle was long and arduous, but the witch was not as old or experienced as Oradin, and he steadily but surely gained the upper ground, battering the witch with one mighty spell after the other, until none of her shields or barriers could protect her from her opponents wrath any longer. She was completely incinerated by a mighty inferno of hellfire which Oradin had fired at her, not even her ashes were spared by the all-consuming flames. The battle left Oradin extremely weak, and with his damaged soul and weakened body, he could not move for many weeks, feeding on the magic within the air and earth to stay alive. During this period where he hung between life and death, he went through many strange and enlightening experiences, delving to the core of magic itself, and even then, he could not understand it, one cannot understand such splendor, and he came to understand that magic, the core of magic that is, is incomprehensible to any living mind, no matter how mighty or powerful one became.

Once he awoke, with this new revelation at heart, he set out to read as much as he could of the witch’s library. He spent months, if not years in there, studying magic arts lost to civilization, learning more about the forbidden arts, things which made even his ancient heart twist in horror. Forty years later he emerged from the witch’s hideout, feeling as if he’d aged centuries from the knowledge he’d gained. Aertheria had become a land ruled by the strong and the cruel, and many mage clans had arisen. Oradin set out to unite the mage clans, trying to convince them to unite for the sake of Aertheria, make the once mighty kingdom great once more. It was no easy job, and many uprising and treasons from the clans had to be dealt with – and Oradin dealt with them most harshly, showing himself to be a just ruler, but one who did not hesitate to inflict terrible punishment upon those whom he found deserving. Eventually, after ten years of hard work, Aertheria was united once more, and a new era of stability began, one which Oradin had brought about, and one which Oradin would make sure continued far into the future.

Oradin is now quite an old man by any standards, having passed into his first millennia of existence, under his rule, Aertheria has become well known for the might of its magic users, it is well known that they can best even the great High Elves when it came to anything magical, although the Elves still held the upper ground when it came to the art of natural magic. Oradin is confident in Aertheria’s ability defend itself, any nation foolish enough to attack Aertheria would not even get to the mainland before having its fleets sunk, or its aircraft completely and utterly crippled. Oradin refuses to see Aertheria’s isolationism as a weakness, viewing their ability to keep any other nations from influencing their culture as strength. However he is no fool, and would be ready to make stronger relations with mainland countries should the need arise, and with the recent events and the ever growing threat of an Earther invasion, gaining allies and improving relations may become a needed step for the Aertherian Islands.

In his Younger Days



In his Old Age

- - - Updated - - -

Character's Full Name:


Horath Evren Al'Montsar

Character's Date of Birth:


The Third day of the Eighth Month

Character's Age:


Two Decades

Character's Gender:


Male

Character's Nationality:


Vinngealos

Character's Skin Colour:


Golden Beige

Eye Colour:


Night Black

Hair Colour:


Light Black/ Dark Grey

Hair Length:


Medium Length/ Neck Length (As Pictured)

Plenty of minor scars on his chest and hands, a few on his arm. The most prominent one though is one long scar from his right shoulder down to beneath his left arm pit, where he was seriously injured by a band of brigands once while out on patrol with one of his comrades. (More detail in history)

Conscript in the Army, at the Rank of Polemarchos

Art of War, Strategy, Tactics, History, Reading, Swordsmanship, Music- especially the flute, Horseback Riding (may add more later)

Before going on his first mission, Horath preferred to wear flowing robe-like clothes (as pictured) or baggy clothes which allow a lot of space for movement, he rarely wore armour, as he saw it as a hindrance. However, after being seriously injured, and having a near death experience, he came to realise the value of armour, now he never goes anywhere without having chain mailunder his robes, he also has a leather breast plate, which he removes only when he is certain that he would not be attacked. His trousers are black and made of cotton, while his boots are mid-calf length dark brown ones, designed to be light and easy to move around in. Beneath his chainmail, Horath has a special gambeson which he bought especially for himself, unlike normal gambesons it has four layers of quilted wool rather than two, and the normal two layers of cotton. Beneath the gambeson,Horath wears a tunic he inherited from his father, which also happens to be the best tunic he has.

Those who are Strong-Willed and have a well developed Sense of Morality. Victory. Strength and Intelligence. Music- Especially the Flute. Sparring with both the Sword and Tongue. Hearing Tales of Past Heroes, and of Valor shown in Battle by those he Leads and those he is Lead by. Discipline. A Worthy Rival. Seeing to it that even the poorest is living in Relative Prosperity. Fairness and Justice in all things, from the tiniest matter, to the largest.

The Grip which Corruption has on the Rulers of his Home Land. Cowardice. Lack of Morality. Defeat. Weakness. Treachery by those he Leads and those he is Lead by, and even those he Battles against. Seeing that even though he would like for the poorest person among his people to be living in Relative Prosperity, this is not the case. Injustice.

The Destruction of his People. That the Old Empire shall never rise once more. Death before he has lifted his people out of the weakness they are in. That he may not be as good or benevolent a leader as he would like to think he is should true responsibility fall upon his shoulders.

He expects too much, he thinks that everyone should stand up for justice no matter what, he expects everyone to have a strong moral code, he expects those who lead him to be the finest of men, and those he leads to be the bravest of souls. Sometimes his fears and doubts can overcome him, and he can become uncertain of how to act and what to do.
As much as he has tried, he has never been good at archery, or any type of ranged form of combat, even though he is better with rocks and javelins, it is not by much.

Horath Evren Al'Montsar is a relic of a lost age - an age which may have only ever existed in legend. He is an extremely idealistic man, and a perfectionist to an extent. He believes that all people - his people in particular - must strive to create, or recreate the Old Empire. However, he also believes they should strive to change the way things worked, that the class systems should not be a cause for anyone - rich or poor - to suffer, and now after meeting a former slave, his strong feelings against slavery have grown greater. He strongly believes that what his nation needs is a good leader, one who knows what must be done, how to do it and why to do it. He also happens to think he's the right man for the job.
Horath has some strongly held beliefs on why his nation is collapsing, and one of those is the lack of love people have for their nation. People do not care for the well being of Vinngealos to the extent that its army is too small to even defend it properly, he believes that not forcing people to join the army would be a step forward for Vinngealos, and that once it was a choice rather than a command which could not be refused, more people would be willing to join, for the glory of the Old Empire, and it's coming rise.
Horaths idealistic perception of how society should be - and how he should be - adds to his ability to draw people to him, and many of his soldiers are usually in awe of the things he does, even if he is blind to their admiration of him, every little thing he does, every act of kindness or angry speech of disapproval for not acting correctly only increases respect for him, for to most of these people, such things have become foreign and unheard of, but they are instinctively drawn to them and cannot help but be enamored by such ideologies.
Horaths ambitions do not stop at rising to lead his people and returning the Old Empire, no, he plans to do much more, to unite his people - ALL his people, and bring them under one banner, to unite all the clans and sects and countries of Kanorth, create one nation, create one people.

Note: the word "brief" is deceiving you

Horath did not grow up in a rich family, he didn't grow up in a poor family either, his was a family rich enough not to be poor and poor enough not to be rich, one of those which hung on the brink of poverty, holding on only because of that one person who knew what to do. In Horaths case it was his father, Evren Trejik Al'Montsar. Evren worked as a weapon-smith in one of the poorer areas of Vinnegeal, one of the great cities of Vinngealos, had he not had six sons and three daughters to care for, the amount he earned would have been more than enough to feed him, his wife and another four children, but fate had not been kind to the youngest son of one of the lower noble families. After his father died, his three older brothers began fighting over who would inherit which piece of land, and in the struggle between the three, Evren found that he had no power or authority to claim the land which he had inherited and was rightfully his. So he left his ruined family and set out to search for his own destiny.
After being apprenticed to a weapon-smith (he refused to use any skills he'd learnt as a noble) and becoming quite proficient in the trade, he had his own smithy built in the poorer area of Vinnegeal, where there were no other smiths who could challenge him. And so he prospered, and even when he met the women he would go on to marry, life continued as normal. It was only after they'd had six children and age was beginning to catch up with him that Evren began to suffer financially. When his two older sons requested he teach them, for the betterment of the family and so they can learn a good trade, he refused, telling them that no son of his would be a smith, that they must - each one of them - find a trade greater than his was, and grow in the land, so that each and every one of his sons may help each other, and not fall prey to quarrels between siblings, and never let each other suffer poverty.
As for Evrens three daughters, they were raised by their mother who had more influence over them than their father, but nevertheless, Evren made each of his sons pledge to always help, care for, and protect their sisters from anyone, whether a thug on the street, or their own husbands when things finally got to that.

Horath was the youngest child, and even though both his father and mother loved him greatly, they never allowed their love for him to affect him too much, Evren had sworn that not a single one of his children would ever grow as a spoilt brat, no matter how much he wanted to dote on them and give them all they wanted. Instead, Evren taught Horath to read and write, and was more strict with him than he was with any of Horaths siblings. He made him read great tomes from a young age on history, politics, philosophy, war, swordsmanship, leadership, anything which could benefit him become high in this world. Even now, all the books and tomes which Evren had - which were the only items he took with him after leaving his family - are with Horath, handed down to him by his Evren in his will.
Under his fathers strict upbringing, Horath developed a good mind, showing he was more than capable of understanding complex ideas, but his father also made sure that Horath also grew up with a strong body, allowing him alone - out of all his children - to help in the smithy. For Horaths sake, Evren even broke the pledge he had made when he left his family: never to use any skill (other than reading and writing) he had learnt with his as a noble, for he taught Horath how to fight with a sword, and how to ride a horse, going that extra bit more to take him to one of the stables in the city, and renting a horse for training.
However, as well as Evren tried to bring his son up, he may have gone a bit too far in instilling in him idealism and perfectionism, for now he always expects from people what they may not be able to do, and can be a bit close-minded when it comes to dealing with people who have done wrong, forgiveness, even though his father tried to show him its importance, never did become one of his strong points.
By the age of eighteen, Horath was a fine young man; strong, intelligent, and with skills that called out for the army. Had he not been conscripted; he would probably have joined anyway. Evren showed neither approval nor disapproval for Horaths choice to stay on in the army and not bribe his way out, even though inside he was proud that his son had chosen this route, for it was indeed a route of power, a route - for those who were brave enough - which could lead to endless possibilities.
Horath was a toughened young man who could endure much - he had to be to keep up with his fathers pace in the smithy, but even so, the training of the army always left him completely exhausted, with no thought more prevalent than to rest. He was however, one of the luckier men, for he broke no bones and received no serious wounds, compared to others who lost their lives or became forever crippled, Horath could not help the sense of pride and accomplishment he felt.
At the age of a year less than two decades, he was sent out on patrol with Gardeel - one of the people he had become quite close friends with.
It was on this first patrol that he received the lethal blow, which cut him from right shoulder to just beneath his left arm pit. Gardeel and he were ambushed by a group of ten brigands, out to steal the armour and weapons of any soldiers passing by. Both Horath and Gardeel fought bravely, striking down three of the ten, Horath killing two and Gardeel killing one. But they were far outnumbered, even if there had been another two of them it would have been a lost battle. Horaths comrade fell dead to a blow from one of the bigger brigands, his throat ripped out by a savagely jagged blade. Horath charged at the huge man, only to be struck the deadly blow by the longer sword.
As Horath had no armour at the time, and his sword was not worthy of stealing, the brigands left him for dead, not even bothering to check if he was still breathing. They stripped Gardeel of his armour and took off with Horath and Gardeeks horses. Had he not been used to pain and enduring no matter what, and having a will to survive like none other, Horath would have died that day, but he managed to crawl and limp his way back to the fort he was stationed at, there he received medical attention and survived. It took a few months for them to allow him to go back to his duties, but when he did, he had a new coldness about him, he was a man who had come back from the dead, he had felt deaths icy fingers around his heart, he was not going to let it happen again, there was too much he needed to do, too much his father expected from him.
Evren Trejik Al'Montsar had died while Horath was recovering, leaving in his will for Horath, all his books and tomes - which had been delivered to Horaths quarters. It was after this saddening blow to his morale that Horath discovered the flute. The first time he heard it, he had been wallowing in misery, standing on the walls of Fort Romgard, contemplating life, death and the reason behind all this misery. That was when the soft sounds reached his ears, and touched his grieving heart. Outside, sitting beneath a tree, a figure - with nothing distinguishable but its long red hair - sat playing the flute.
Without sparing a thought for whether this was a trap or not, Horath ran down, opening the gates a crack and running out, he was afraid that maybe if he didn't run fast enough the apparition might disappear. When he arrived, she was still there - for it was a woman, the most beautiful he had ever seen. He stared at her for a long time, listening to the heart felt melody, and drinking in the beauty of this creature.
When she finally stopped, and opened her eyes, Horath was sat before her, a dreamy look in his eyes.
"That was beautiful"
was the first thing he told her
"just like you"
was the second. This caused the womans fair skin tone to turn a slight pink.
"T-thank you" she stuttered, and her voice sent his heart flying.
"What is your name"
he asked gingerly, at which she frowned slightly, then shook her head.
"I can't tell you" she whispered softly.
"Will you not tell a foolish boy the name of this beauty, this angel?"
he asked, reaching out to hold her hands, at which she got up and scurried away giggling.
"Don't say that! Even if I did tell you my name, I can never be yours, I am promised to another" she walked away slowly, turning around when she reached a tree, to see Horaths expression of uncertainty, which was quickly replaced by one of determination.
"I care not what man you are promised to, you will be mine. THAT is a promise."
he said it with fire in his eyes, and a truthfulness she could almost taste.
"Hmm" she walked towards him, a slight smile on her face "it is a promise then" she looked at the flute in her hand, then held it out to him.
"Your..."
he looked at it for a while
"what is it?"
he asked, realising that he didn't know what it was.
"It's a flute silly" she giggled "an instrument which plays the most beautiful music." Horath looked at it.
"You're giving it to me?"
he questioned, uncertainty back in his eyes.
"No silly, I'm letting you borrow it" she smiled sweetly as he took it "you have to give it back to me when you fulfill your promise, okay?" with that she turned around and ran back to the tree, turning to look at him one last time.
"Yes! I'll give it back to you when I've fulfilled my promise...and that's a promise!"
with that she gave him one last heart stopping smile, and she disappeared. He looked down at the flute, and upon it, carved into the wood in intricate writing, was Relnora Jarod Farosa.
"Relnora Jarod Farosa"
he murmured to himself.
It's been a few months since then, Horath hasn't seen Relnora since then, she stalks his every waking moment and haunts his dreams in every moment of sleep, he sometimes wonders if she was indeed nothing but an apparition, but the flute leaves no doubt that she was as real as the air he breathed.
He has been in many more patrols since then, and one major battle where Horaths Company charged the hideout of the same bandits who had scarred him. The Polemarchos of Horaths Company was killed by that same huge man who had killed Gardeel. Horath rose up to fill the gap left by the Polemarchos without realising, leading the charge which crippled the bandits, and killing the razor-sword wielding man by himself. With their leader down, the rest of the bandits soon surrendered, and both Horath and the company returned victorious to the fort. After hearing of his heroic victory, word came down from above that Horath would now be the new Polemarchos of the Company.
Since then he's had a few more skirmishes with bandits and rebels, and a little battle over a border dispute with a rogue captain from Cavenin.

Edit:

Events Since the RP started;

Horath has had an additional two missions, in the first he was stationed at a rebellious town, where he not only managed to stop all rebellious activity, but also managed to destroy a bandit group and win the love of the people. He was rewarded with a great black Stallion called Shade for his efforts.
However, Horaths Company could only rest a day before they were sent on a new assignment; they had to go deal with two Companies which had defected from the Vinngealian army. On their way, the Company came across a ransacked town and many others which were starving to death. Horath could do nothing but offer them protection until they got to a safe town.
When they finally found a safe town, Horath made it his base and sent out scouts to look for the defectors. In the meanwhile, many of townspeople joined with him and trained with weapons. When the defector camp was finally found, Horath devised a plan which won them the battle. Even though many died, the victory would offer the townspeople a lot of money and resources which they would need to survive and grow. Horath left this town having won the peoples love, just as he had in his previous mission.
When he returned to Fort Romgard he learnt that Aedan Arianiti had become Strategos, the supreme commander over all of the Vinngealian army.
After having a huge argument with Polemarchos Maxima Verad - the man assigned to govern over Fort Romgard - about how he had sent Horaths Company on a fools errand, and that they would've died had the townspeople not helped him, Horath demanded that Verad increase the side of his Company to five hundred men. Verad could not argue.
Horath then went back to the tree he had first met Relnora at and slept beneath it, while he slept he had a dream of a person fighting for their life on the beach. Horath awoke and knew that he had to go to the beach.
Upon arriving he saw two people fighting, and as he ran towards them, one tumbled over the the edge of the cliff, dragging the other with him.
Saddened that he had failed, Horath was about to leave when he spots a movement and sees a hand coming over the cliffs edge. He leaps forward and mistakes the cloaked Carissa for a man, when he realises it's a woman he is very surprised.
After talking with her and learning of why she was here on t a cliff face, Horath makes a pledge to himself that he would help this lady so long as he lived.

- - - Updated - - -

Work in Progress

Character's Full Name:

Al'Homam bin Nimr Al Wah'Shey
(Meaning: Al'Homam Son of Nimr the Savage/Wild/Brutal/Cruel/Feral/Vicious/Fierce/Bloodthirsty/Diabolic/Diabolical)
(Note that "Al'Wahshey" is his father’s title and DOES mean all those things...)



Character's Date of Birth:

The First Day of the Sixth Month



Character's Age:


Three and a Half Decades



Character's Gender:

Male



Character's Nationality:

Saeron



Character's Skin Colour:

Golden Bronze



Eye Colour:

Hazel



Hair Colour:

Light Brown/Dark Red/Auburn



Hair Length:

Shoulder Length. Tucked Away in Head Dress



Body Markings:

Scars...Everywhere



Occupation:

Head Vizier to the Sultan



Interests:

Swordsmanship, Statesmanship, History, Politics, Art of War, Architecture, Reading and Writing, the Study of Societies/Human Nature, Law


Style of Dress:

Prefers to wear long flowing clothes. He wears the traditional sirwal, preferring one which is black in colour, and a light black shirt made of the same material. Over it he wears the traditional thawb, tied at the waist with a few thick pieces of cloth which also act as the holster to tuck away the scimitar and sheath. Over the thawb and "belt" he wears the heavy reddish brown cloak, it's colour is a sign of his high rank in the Sultans court, and the white head dress also speaks of his importance, as only high ranked officers and elite soldiers in the army ever wear it. This speaks of his military background.
He also has a wooden walking staff which he uses to walk with.



Likes:

The idea of a nation ruled by a council of wise men rather than a tyrannical monarchy as is the case in Saeron. Those who seek knowledge and wisdom for the improvement of the lives of those oppressed. Military strength. Physical strength. Mental strength. Debating/discussions on controversial matters. Looking after his small garden which was given to him after a long discussion which the Sultan over heard, concerning the importance of preserving nature. To see Saeron rise above petty tribal feuds and fear of the Sultan, and becoming a truly powerful nation, with a mighty, disciplined professional army. Pride in Saeron, the homeland.


Dislikes:

The Sultans tyrannical grip on Saeron and his refusal to listen to his advisers. Saerons weak army which depends more on quantity rather than quality. Those who undermine the importance of nature. Military, mental and physical weakness. Oppression. Those who are fools and know not that they are fools. Lack of unity and pride of Saeronians.


Fears:

That the people will soon have enough of the Sultans oppression and rise up in rebellion, this will surely split Saeron into hundred of factions and it would become easy pickings for other countries. That the Sultan will wake up one day and decide to have him removed from office or whatnot. That he would never get the chance to test his theories and ideas, of making a nation run by a council of wise men.


Prominent weaknesses:

He is a stubborn man, once he's made his mind up, the chances of him changing it are slim at best. The wounds he's suffered in the army are beginning to plague him more and more, recently the wound he received to his back, from the flat side of an axe has been hindering him greatly.


Personality:

Al'Homam is a strange man indeed, he is stubborn, yet open minded, traditional, yet with liberal ideas of greatness and glory. One may say that he is in conflict with himself, wondering if he should be what he's been brought up to be, or what he feels he should be. Stubborn he may be, but many see in him a wisdom and benevolence rare in the court of the Sultan - and this is something his critics see as a weakness. He is calm and collected, and all that he does he does with a purpose and efficiency unlike any other, you don't become Vizier for looking good after all (although his looks aren't too shabby ;D)

Brief History: TBA

- - - Updated - - -

[Kho]

Name:

Azekiel Finndor

Alias/Nickname:

None for Now

Gender:

Male

Appearance Age:

Twenty

Appearance:




Race:

Shinigami

Rank:

Graduate

Division/Espada Lord/Affiliation:

First Division

Azekiel Finndor did not always go by that name; he had a different name once back when he was alive; a name he refuses to share with anyone. His history as a human was nothing interesting. He was a very impulsive child, always out to do what he wants, managing to attract many friends to himself with his fiery personality and air of excitement. He always carried about him a sense of wildness, and elusive stubbornness, so that it would seem like he had been put out only to leap back to life, fighting and arguing and screaming even stronger than before.
As he grew into adolescence, his ability to attract people to him managed to land him in more than a bit of trouble, especially with girls. He was well known for having a new girlfriend every week, and this had made him the enemy of many older brothers and vengeful young ladies. It had become the norm to see that wild, auburn haired boy running through the large town he lived in, chased by hordes of men with machetes and clubs and pickaxes and pitchforks. As wild and promiscuous as he was, and completely lacking any sense of loyalty to any one girl, no one could deny that he was amongst the strongest and best workers in the town.

Azekiel would spend his days, from the first light of day until the last rays of sunshine had disappeared working on the fields around his town, the fields which would feed everyone for the next year. His fiery spirit seemed to be calmed down by being surrounded by crops and golden wheat, as it was only when he was in the fields that no one ever heard his voice. Of course, he would end up being chased around town at night, eventually finding his way into the bed of any of the too-welcoming girls of the town.


One day however, it became clear that his actions could no longer be tolerated, he violated all the rules and traditions of the town, and he had to be dealt with – harshly. It was decided by a group of older boys that Azekiel would be ambushed and beaten while he was walking to work in the morning. They succeeded. Azekiel had never been attacked in the morning before, and it was the last thing on his mind after receiving a slap from the girl he’d hit on the night before. By the time the older boys had surrounded him, it was too late to run.

Azekiel may have been stronger than normal, but he could not overpower all these older boys on his own, he did not go down without a fight though, two of the thugs who tried beating him would never be able to use their right arms again, and a third received a fractured hip, becoming a cripple for life. In return however, Azekiel lost more than he took, he lost his life. And so began his life in the Soul Society.

Azekiels potential as a shinigami was discovered by two shinigami who were on patrol one day, they spotted the auburn haired young man fighting off four attackers who were trying to rob him of a bun he was eating.

“NO! It’s my damn bun, go get your own!” he was shouting angrily as he gave one of them a solid punch to the face, breaking the man’s nose and savagely returning him to the world of dreams. By the time the two shinigami reached the scuffling lot, Azekiel was pounding his final attacker in the dirt, saying something about buns and money and bloody, bloody thieves, and a strange red aura surrounded him. He had to spend some time in a cell after that but immediately upon his release he was recruited into the academy, where he not only excelled, but also received many slaps, punches and kicks from the girls. He learnt that his pretty-boy antics won’t be working on these shinigami girls the hard way.

Azekiel has a fiery spirit, and is always on the move, he can never be found idling around doing nothing, even when there is nothing to be done. He likes to play pranks, challenge people to duels, punch things randomly and is overall, a pretty unpredictable guy. He does have a very easily ignited temper though, and when he has been angered it can be very difficult to calm him down. Some would say that his anger is both his greatest strength and weakness, for it brings with it a determination and mercilessness needed to succeed, but a rashness and lack of concern for his own safety which can cost him dearly, even if he does succeed. He also happens to be one manipulating freak when it comes to ladies, going to great amounts of trouble to make them fall for him. However, ever since he’s become a shinigami, nothing he’s tried has worked; he’s not planning to give up though.
Expect more to be added to this throughout the RP.

Fighting Style
Every fight is a chance to fight someone new, push the limits, show off a bit and discover more about yourself, and of course, you need to let off all the anger once in a while, especially if you’re fiery like Azekiel.

Zanpakuto Name:

Nardame

Zanpakuto Spirit Personality:

Much like Azekiel, this spirit is mischievous and playful. It is more innocent than the dirty-minded Azekiel though, preferring to go around the spirit world dancing through the fields of fiery crops and dancing with the sparks and other flames. When angered however, the previously cute flame takes on animalistic features, such as a lion’s head and body, or a tiger etc. This reflects the wildness of fire, showing that it can be tame and friendly, but with a little nudge, can become a ferocious devouring beast which will destroy s/he who lights it and eventually, itself.

Zanpakuto Spirit Appearance:

Normal:

Spoiler

When Angered:

Spoiler

Spoiler

Inner World:

Spoiler

A land of erupting volcanoes, rivers of lava, seas of magma, fields and crops of fire, and dancing sparks which shine for a millionth of a second before fading into nothingness, only to be replaced by a thousand others like it. This is the land within Azekiel.



Sealed Zanpakuto:

Spoiler

Basic Power:

Can get very hot. Flames grow out of it when Azekiel is angry, which drains reiatsu.

NOT YET UNLOCKED

Name:
Chijo no Kasai (Earthly Fire)

Release Command:
Iltahimi ya Chijo no Kasai (Consume O Earthly Fire)

Appearance:


Abilities:
Azekiels sword no longer has a metal blade, rather the blade has become one of flame, so hot that it can "cut" through anything, as long as that thing has lower reiatsu than Azekiel. What actually happens is that the blade is so hot that it burns straight through whatever it touches, too hot for anything it comes into contact with to even catch fire. Due to it not being a blade, but a constant stream of fire, the intensity of the flame can be adjusted at will, going from a very long whip like flame to a very short dagger like one, from a relatively cool cooking fire, to a scorching fire unlike any to have existed before or after.
(More Shikai Abilities to be Unlocked While Rping)

Name: N/A
Release Command: N/A
Control: N/A
Weapon Appearance: N/A
Physical Appearance: N/A
Abilities: N/A

Current Combat Stats: (175)
Zanjutsu- 40
Hakudo- 50
Hoho- 35
Kido- 15
Rietsu- 35

550- Captain Commander
425- Elite Captain
350- Captain
275- Lieutenant
225- Respected Reaper
200- Seated Officer

175- Novice Shinigami

**Shikai- Zanjutsu- 30, Rietsu-40
**Bankai- Zanjutsu- 50, Rietsu- 70

**Flashstep(1 Short)-Hoho-20
**Flashstep(1 long)- Hoho-30

**Continous Flashstep(Short)-Hoho-50, Rietsu-20
**Quasi-Clone- Hoho- 70, Reitsu-25

**Kido spells(1-20)- Kido- 15

**Kido spells(21-40)-Kido- 30
**Kido spells(41-60)- Kido- 40
**Kido spells(61-80)-Kido- 55, Rietsu-20
**Kido spells(81-100)-Kido- 70, Rietsu-40
**Skip Incation(1-20)-Kido-25
**Skip Incation(21-40)-Kido-35
**Skip Incation(41-60)- Kido-70; Rietsu-10
**Skip Incation(61-80)-Kido-80; Rietsu-25
**Skip Incation(81-100)-Kido-100; Rietsu-50
**Paralyzing Rietsu- Reitsu 70
**Reitsu Armor- Hakudo 70; Rietsu 50
**Ryōdan (Kenpachi kendo)- Zanjutsu-80

**Air Slash- Zanjutsu- 40; Reitsu 30

**Senka- Zanjutsu-40, Hoho-40
**Shunko- Hakudo-60, Kido-50

**Tessho (Iron Fist)- Hakudo- 30

**Ikotsu(Single Bone)- Hakudo-50

**Sokotsu(Double Bone)- Hakudo- 70
**Oni Headpoke(Isshin fingerflick)- Hakudo 100

[Kho]

Name

正義心 Masayoshi Kokoro (Justice Heart)

Alias/Nickname

None for Now

Gender

Male

Appearance Age

18 Years Old

Race

Shinigami

Rank

Graduate

Division/Espada Lord/Affiliation

The Eleventh Division

Kokoro grew up in a rich family, in a huge home, and had everything he ever desired...or so you would think, the reality was much more grim.
Kokoro was never a spoilt child, quite the opposite actually, he had to make do with what little his parents allowed him to have, he was never allowed to do what he wanted...in fact, he wasn’t allowed to do anything in general.
Kokoro’s parents wanted him to be the best at everything, and so they hired personal tutors for him. As kind as some of the tutors were, he could never help feeling unhappy and unwanted.
As he never had any friends, he doesn’t know how to socialise with people. He was and still is an only child who was brought up to become the perfect Shinigami, of course; his parents did not see the many flaws in his power until it was too late.
As unhappy and miserable as he felt, Kokoro did have some of the best tutors around, and became highly proficient in reading and writing, and speaking in several different languages. He immediately picked up on Fencing and Kendo and at the age of ten, he picked up on Kido surprisingly fast, but lack of experience leaves him at a disadvantage compared to other Shinigami.


Kokoro’s training to become perfect began at the age of three, when his father locked him into the mansions huge cellar and left him there for three weeks.
Kokoro had not understood what was going on at the time, but his basic instincts taught him that when hungry, you eat, and when thirsty, you drink. Kokoro survived solely on eating rats and drinking water from the drain, the rats carried many diseases, and the water from the drain was littered with all kinds of waste from the house above.
Once the door of the cellar was opened, what was found was a dying child, suffering from malnutrition and dehydration and several other diseases; however his parents would not allow him to get better. They would not give him the Time. They immediately called in tutors. There were several tutors for Languages; three more for fencing and martial arts, there were a few others for General Studies and even more for History, Geography, Mathematics, Science, the Arts etc.
In total, there were around forty tutors whom he had to visit at least three times every week.
The fencing and martial arts tutors were extremely harsh, bordering on cruel, and Kokoro always hated them. The Languages tutors were an arrogant bunch, who thought they had the world at their feet, one of them, the only one Kokoro remembers well, wore round spectacles and had a hooked nose, making him look like a vulture, he always dressed in the most pompous and peculiar clothes, but it didn’t make his temper any the better.
The Mathematics tutors were by far the worst, they said things and expected him to pick up on them instantaneously, not even bothering to check whether he understood or not, they piled upon him books upon books on algebra, ratio, angles, numbers and theorems which were still in the making. It was the Mathematics that made him stay up all night, studying and trying to understand.
Out of all theses tutors, he found the History tutors and Arts tutors were by far the most willing to help, the History tutors had an aura of great knowledge, but their curiosity was insatiable once it arose, the Arts teachers seemed to float around, their heads in the clouds, forever thinking of what to do next...they were imaginative, creative, they were what Kokoro wanted to be most like, with no care or worry in the word other than the upcoming performance, or the next painting.
But the good moments were more than outweighed by the bad ones.
Kokoro’s difficult schedule continued until he was two hundred, by that time he had become an emotionless child, having withdrawn into himself to protect what was left of his humanity. At that same age, Kokoro received five Shinigami tutors, who were to teach him all there was to know about Shinigami and the many techniques he was to master.
Kokoro became a well developed Shinigami and his parent’s plans to make him the perfect killing machine were well under way. However, Kokoro’s power proved to be too much for him to control and his tutors all died in practice sessions with him, his parents got him more, but they were also killed.
Kokoro became so powerful and self-confident that he challenged his parents, who for sometime did not mind, being happy at him for finally mastering his Shikai, but when he started lashing out against them, and openly defying their commands, his parents jumped into action.
His punishment was most cruel and savage, he was taken down to the cellar, which he still had nightmares about and was locked up in there for three years.
During this time, Kokoro lost much of his power, and lost all contact with his spirit, this had the unheard of effect of him losing his Shikai, Kokoro became nothing but a shadow of his former-self. When his parents saw this, they realized that their plans were in ruins and banished him, telling him that he was no son of the Masayoshi family, and that he had disgraced them all before their forefathers. Kokoro did not care.

Once free, Kokoro, now 210 years old, immediately made his way to the Soul Society, that distant place which his Shinigami tutors had told him so much about, it had become a goal for him to be one of the Shinigami of the Soul Society, to join one of its divisions, to journey from his families mansion home, across teh great endless desert, and live there, in that place of freedom. Soul Society had experienced a shocking event however, fifty years before his arrival a terrible incident happened, which caused the death of many of the senior Shinigami.
After a few years in the Shinigami Academy, Kokoro proved to be a talented Shinigami, and was assigned to the Eleventh Division. Since then, he has grown both socially and strength-wise, even though he has not yet reached his previous power level, he is well on the way to doing so, and once he is there, there are things he will do, and vengeance he will wreak. He was only Two Hundred and Twenty Years Old, he had all the Time he needed.

Kokoro is calm and very unperturbed. He is never in a rush, and is not loud or brash. He is respectful to everyone around him. Depending on his mood, he could also wipe the floor with disrespectful people. He can also become quite devilish and mischievous, and get into all kinds of trouble when he has one of his random mood swings. He tries to make a plan and not rush into things, if everything has failed and there is zero chance of survival, he will go all out, and take as many of his opponents with him. He honours fighters who are strong, and always sheds a tear for an opponent he has defeated.
Due to his difficult start to life, Kokoro sometimes finds it difficult to understand the feelings of people around him; some may even see him as harsh, he can be quite cynical at times, and very edgy.

A fight is a matter of life and death, but it is not always physical life or death which is at stake, but something much greater; spiritual and mental death, for in defeat comes failure and disappointment, and disappointment leads to fear of failure, and so one aims to never fail, if not by succeeding, then by never trying at all. That is why Kokoro fights, to preserve his life, and to avoid the worst kind of death.

Zanpakuto Name

Shi no Shi

Shikai

Shi no Shi is an old and wise spirit, but beneath his veil of wisdom lies a grumpy old man who just wants to beat the stuffings out of you, and show you that you’ll always be beneath his power and authority.

Bankai

Jikan to Kūkan is completely different from Shi no Shi, he is the embodiment of Time and Space, and the Earth speaks as one with him. His Wisdom is as old and infinite as Time, and when he walks, Space shimmers and seems to bow down to him.

Shi no Shi splits into two when he wants to:

Bankai

Jikan to Kukan can also split into two at will:

Dai ma Kokoro [大魔こころ] (Greater Demon Kokoro):

Gurētā Kokora [グレーターこころ] (Greater Kokora):

Zanpakuto Spirit Inner World

Kokoro’s inner world is a strange site; the grass is red and long, and covers all of it, from the highest peaks to the bottom of the white rivers. The grass lies on the beautiful golden white soil, which glows just as brightly as the red grass, both their own light source. Up high, the green sun shines brightly through blue clouds, and far off in the distance, the peak of Mount Orokok disappears into the blue clouds and rises up, as high and infinite as Time. The trees in his world grow big, bigger than any normal tree, the smallest can reach a kilometre in height, and the highest disappear into the clouds, like Mount Orokok. Strangely enough, there is life in his inner world, strange little animals that would never exist in the real world...it is filled with all the life imaginable, but not a single human dwells in it, as if showing all the animals that Kokoro himself would have preferred a life devoid of any human life, any Shinigami, any hollow, anything that could think outside of feeding and drinking, for nature alone to exist, and for the most powerful and terrible authority of all to hold sway over all which exists: Time.

Sealed Zanpakuto

Before he realises that the true nature of his Zanpaktou is Time and Space oriented, Kokoros sealed Zanpaktou is a Katana:




After he discovers the nature of his Zanpaktou, it morphs into a rapier. The rapiers appearance can change according to Kokoro’s emotions:

Basic Power

Space-Time

_______________________


Shikai

Name

Shi no Shi

Release Command

キル 死の死 Kiru Shi no Shi! (Kill Death of Death!)

The Shikai is a Naginata which is twice the size of a normal human, it feels as light as a feather for Kokoro, but should any other try wielding it, it’s true weight of two hundred Kilograms will appear. (It's not because Kokoro is super strong, it's because the Zanpaktou chooses to change its weight)
However, its true power is control over Time. Since then, it has changed into a Rapier as Pictured:

Before change:



After change:

Achieved ones are RED.

As soon as Shikai is achieved (Shikai - Zanjutsu- 50, Reiatsu-60):

Kokoro can use Shikai to speed up things, whether they are his friends, a canon ball a Kido or even himself.
It not only speeds up how fast you can go (Shunpo, Senka, running etcetera) it also speeds up regeneration, reiatsu recharging, and sometimes even growth (ageing).
At this point, the sealed Zanpaktou is still a Katana and the Shikai is a Naginata, and as far as Kokoro knows, it's power is in boosting powers already active. For example, if a comrade is running, his power can make him run faster. If there is a Kido being fired at somebody, or used to heal, he can make it increase its speed, and of course, he can use this power on himself.
However, keeping this up for any period of time requires at least 60 reiatsu, with that he can keep it up for a period of three posts, if the time span in the three posts is no more than ten-twenty minutes. Also, while using this on other objects or people, he is completely paralysed and unable to move, making him a very easy target for any attack.

With training:

1) (Zanjutsu 70, Reiatsu 90, Kido 40, Hakudo 60)
After training with his Spirit, Kokoro will discover the true nature of his Zanpaktou and both his Sealed Zanpaktou and Shikai will change form, and will be as pictured.
Kokoro can now speed up or slow down two-three people or objects simultaneously, he can also fight as he usually does while the ability is active, but his speed is halved so that if it is 40 in the stats, it will become 20 while the technique is active.
However, Kokoro can speed up anything now, whether it is people and objects or circulation of reiatsu and speed of reaction, physical things like people, rocks etc. are easier to speed up or slow down and don't have any side effects other than draining his reiatsu and slowing him down, but meddling with things like speed of reaction and circulation of reiatsu is much more dangerous. While doing so he must be completely still, he is not paralysed, but should he move while the technique is active his reiatsu will be sucked away and he will black-out for a few minutes, it is also possible for him to sustain physical injuries from the strain.


2) (Zanjutsu 100, Reiatsu 120, Kido 60, Hakudo 90)

Kokoro now has more control over the Time aspect of his Zanpaktou, he can make inanimate things small plants to wither and die or become young and full of life once more.
For animate things, like shinigami or other living creatures, he can make them move forward in time by a few seconds or a minutes, or back in time by a few seconds or a minute. This comes in very useful if someone has recently been injured critically, or has used up much of their reiatsu, as Kokoro can revert them back to when they were at full power (if that was within the last minute.) However, doing this not only requires 120 reiatsu and 60 kido, it also drains ALL of Kokoros reiatsu, so he cannot use it on more than one person in the same battle or at the same time. He cannot use it on himself however, as when he moves back in Time, it means that he never existed in the future, and so could never have sent himself back in Time, so it is literally impossible for him to go back in Time at this stage.

Kokoro still has his previous abilities, and they have been improved slightly. His speed is now cut by a quarter when speeding up or slowing down physical objects or creatures, and the effects of moving when he is meddling with reaction times and reiatsu circulation are less severe, instead of losing all reiatsu, sustaining physical injuries, and blacking out, he now loses some reiatsu and sustain physical injuries. Also, he can now speed up or slow down up to five people or objects simultaneously, however, when it gets to four and five it puts more strain on his reiatsu and depletes it faster. He can only work on one subject one speeding up or slowing down reaction time and reiatsu circulation.


3) (Zanjutsu 130, Reiatsu 200, Kido 170, Hakudo 150, Hoho 120)

Kokoro has learnt his two first offensive Time techniques, but he requires much training to even understand them. He can now send an iridescent Time wave at an opponent, which makes the area or person it hits wither or weaken slightly. If the object hit is inanimate, like a rock, it will crumble and become sand, a tree will wither and die. If the object is animate, then they will be slowed down severely their speed halved, so if speed was originally 40, it would become twenty. This lasts for a period of two posts, unless the time span over the two posts is higher than ten minutes. This technique requires 200 reiatsu and 170 Kido, it is also physically very draining, requiring 150 hakudo, Kokoro will not be able to use any techniques other than the speeding up/slowing down of objects or people.

Kokoros other technique is a process wherein a Time orb forms, surrounding his sword. This is achieved by concentrating all his reiatsu into his blade and then morphing it into Time energy, which is the power source of true Time Techniques. This orb is then fired at extremely high speeds, one would need a speed of 200 to even notice it, and 250 to have a chance of dodging it, 280 can dodge it. The exchange rate of reiatsu to Time energy is very low, a huge amount of reiatsu giving a relatively low amount of Time Energy, which is why if this technique is successful Kokoro will be completely spent, and suffer serious lash backs for the next three posts (regardless of time span between them) if it is not, the technique will go in an arc and return to Kokoros sword, where he can convert the Time energy back to reiatsu, or attempt to fire the orb once more.
If this hits, it will first wink out of existence, and then an invisible explosion will occur inside of the target, at this stage in Kokoros growth, much depends on the power level of the target, if the target is powerful, then they'll be slowed significantly, their strength lowered slightly, reaction time decreased and reiatsu circulation lowered. If the target is around Kokoros strength level or lower, then they will be slowed to a quarter of their original speed, so if the targets speed is 40, it will be lowered to 10. Their reaction time is connected to their speed in this case and will also be very slow, their strength will be lowered slightly, and reiatsu circulation will be lowered to a state where it keeps them alive, this lasts two posts regardless of the time lapse between them.
However, someone other than Kokoro will need to finish off the target, as he will be weakened beyond measure, unable to use even the most basic Shinigami abilities, let alone his Zanpaktous abilities.
Using this technique puts great stress on Kokoros body, the first time he used it, a very long time ago, the stress was so great that his hair turned completely white. His reiatsu is completely drained and he cannot move because of his weakness, he would need somebody to carry him to the fourth division hospital, and he will suffer this for three posts, and then it will take another three for him to go back to full strength once more.

4) (Zanjutsu 200, Reiatsu 280, Kido 230, Hakudo 260)

Kokoros other abilities remain the same.
Kokoro has learnt something new from his Spirit; the ability to pass through Time and Space itself, giving him the ability to get to anyone in less than a second. This is done by opening a Space-Time Whirlpool, and entering it, as he enters, another one opens where he wants, and he steps out in the same instance, like stepping out from one room into the next through the door. It is much more complicated than that however, for as soon as he steps in, he finds himself in an endless iridescent nothingness, and must make his way though Space-Time to the exit, with no option of going back through the entrance. This can prove fatal if he spends too long inside, he could be trapped inside forever, or even worse, the whirlpool can collapse while he is still inside, sending him into oblivion with no chance of ever escaping, it is very similar\r in that sense to the way the Shinigami move from Soul Society to other places, except that in this case, Time is completely frozen for Kokoro until he steps back out into his dimension. It is also possible for him to step into other time eras, or even other worlds, parallel to the one he lives in. This can prove fatal however if another version of him exists in that world, and he may be removed from existence, so he has never done, and never plans to do such a thing.

________________



Bankai

Name

Jikan to Kūkan [時間と空間](Time and Space)

(Fake Bankai: Zanjutsu 250, Reiatsu 300, Hakudo 280, Kido 280, Hoho 240)
(True Bankai: Zanjutsu 500, Reiatsu 500, Hakudo 500, Kido 500, Hoho 500)

Kokoro has entered or partially achieved the Form of Time. This allows Kokoro to move in and out of Space and Time without having to open a Whirlpool of Space-Time. This is because he has become one with Space and Time (the Warp.)
This gives him the ability to use some very powerful techniques which he could not use fully beforehand such as “Taimuzuendo no ōbu [タイムズエンドのオーブ](Orb of Times End)” and “Nama to shi no jidai [生と死の時代] (Age of Life and Death)” - the two offensive techniques he could not fully understand beforehand, he only learns their name after achieving Bankai. As he has become one with Space and Time, Time Energy is readily accessible to him, able to call on the infinite reserves of Time Energy. However, this means that he can no longer use reiatsu or kido, he has become an altogether different being, a creature of Time and Space, forever in Bankai, never able to return to his previous forms again.

However, to ever reach Bankai, he still needs to master all his techniques techniques. Even though he is capable of achieving Bankai, Kokoro cannot yet enter it, as he has not trained with his Spirit, and learnt how to – partially – control his Bankai, so when he goes into Bankai, he does not become as pictured above, but his attributes merely rise by ten. This will continue until such a time where he achieves his true Bankai and transcend the limitations of being a Shinigami. To enter his true Bankai, Kokoros attributes must all be equal to or above 500.

Current Combat Stats (175) :


Zanjutsu- 50

Hakudo- 20

Hoho- 20

Kido- 25

Rietsu- 60

Special skills: Controls Time
--------------------------------------------

**Shikai- Zanjutsu- 50, Rietsu-60
**Fake Bankai - Zanjutsu- 250, Reiatsu- 300, Hakudo- 280, Kido- 280, Hoho- 240
**True Bankai- Zanjutsu- 500, Reiatsu- 500, Hakudo- 500, Kido- 500, Hoho- 500
**Flashstep(1 Short)-Hoho-20
**Flashstep(1 long)- Hoho-30
**Continous Flashstep(Short)-Hoho-50, Rietsu-20
**Quasi-Clone- Hoho- 70, Reitsu-25
**Kido spells(1-20)- Kido- 15
**Kido spells(21-40)-Kido- 30
**Kido spells(41-60)- Kido- 40
**Kido spells(61-80)-Kido- 55, Rietsu-20
**Kido spells(81-100)-Kido- 70, Rietsu-40
**Skip Incantion(1-20)-Kido-25
**Skip Incantion(21-40)-Kido-35
**Skip Incantion(41-60)- Kido-70; Rietsu-10
**Skip Incantion(61-80)-Kido-80; Rietsu-25
**Skip Incantion(81-100)-Kido-100; Rietsu-50
**Paralyzing Rietsu- Reitsu 70
**Reitsu Armor- Hakudo 70; Rietsu 50
**Ryōdan (Kenpachi kendo)- Zanjutsu-80
**Air Slash- Zanjutsu- 40; Reitsu 30
**Senka- Zanjutsu-40, Hoho-40
**Shunko- Hakudo-60, Kido-50
**Tessho (Iron Fist)- Hakudo- 30
**Ikotsu(Single Bone)- Hakudo-50
**Sokotsu(Double Bone)- Hakudo- 70
**Oni Headpoke(Isshin fingerflick)- Hakudo 100

[Kho]

Marching and Physical Training
The first thing the soldiers were taught to do, was to march. The historian Vegetius tells us that it was seen as of greatest importance to the Roman army that its soldiers could march at speed.
Any army which would be split up by stragglers at the back or soldiers trundling along at differing speeds would be vulnerable to attack.
Hence right from the beginning the Roman soldier was trained to march in line and to keep the army a compact fighting unit on the move.
For this, we are told by Vegetius, during the summer months the soldiers were to be marched twenty Roman miles (18.4 miles/29.6 km), which had to be completed in five hours.A further part of basic military training was also physical exercise. Vegetius mentions running, long and high jump and carrying heavy packs.
During the summer swimming was also a part of training. If their camp was near the sea, a lake or river, every recruit was made to swim.

Weapons Training
Legionary in Practice

Next in line, after the training for marching and fitness, came the training of handling weapons.
For this they primarily used wickerwork shields and wooden swords. Both the shields and the swords were made to standards which made them twice as heavy as the original weapons. Evidently it was thought, that if a soldier could fight with these heavy dummy weapons, he would be twice as effective with the proper ones.
The dummy weapons were at first employed against heavy wooden stakes, about six foot high, rather than against fellow soldiers. Against these wooden stakes the soldier trained the various moves, strikes and counter-strikes with the sword.
Only once the recruits was deemed able enough in fighting against the stakes, were they assigned in pairs to train in individual combat.
This more advanced stage of combat training was called armatura, an expression which first was used in the gladiatorial schools, which proves that some of the methods used in training soldiers was indeed borrowed from the training techniques of gladiators.
The weapons used in the armatura were, though still of wood, of the same, or similar weight as the original service weapons.
Weapons training was deemed of such importance that weapons instructors generally received double rations, whereas soldiers who didn't achieve adequate standards received inferior rations until they had proven in the presence of a high-ranking officer that they had attained the demanded standard. (inferior rations: Vegetius states that their wheat rations were substituted with barley)
After completing the initial training with the sword, the recruit was to master the use of the spear, the pilum. For this the wooden stakes were put to use again as targets. The pilum used for practice was, once again, twice the weight of the regular weapon.Vegetius notes that weapons training was given such importance that in some places roofed riding schools and drill halls were built to allow for training to continue throughout the winter.

Spartan
Education & Military Training
The primary purpose of Spartan education, and indeed of Spartan society as a whole, differed greatly from that of the Athenians. The primary goal of Spartan education was to produce good soldiers. Training for the military began at age 7, as all Spartan boys left home to go to military school. From then until the time they were 18, they were subject to harsh training and discipline. Historical accounts tell of Spartan boys as being allowed no shoes, very few clothes, and being taught to take pride in enduring pain and hardship.(1)Throughout their adolescent and teenage years, Spartan boys were required to become proficient in all manner of military activities. They were taught boxing, swimming, wrestling, javelin-throwing, and discus-throwing. They were trained to harden themselves to the elements. At the age of 18, Spartan boys had to go out into the world and steal their food. Getting caught would result in harsh punishment, including flogging, which was usually a practice reserved only for slaves. The concept was that a soldier must learn stealth and cunning.
At age 20, Spartan men had to pass a series of demanding tests of physical prowess and leadership abilities. Those that passed became members of the Spartan military, and lived in barracks with the other soldiers. They were allowed to take a wife, but they weren't allowed to live with her. At age 30, they became full citizens of Sparta, provided they had served honorably. They were required to continue serving the military, however, until age 60.
Unlike their Athenian counterparts, Spartan girls also went to school at age seven. There they learned gymnastics, wrestling, and did calisthenics. These schools were similar in many ways to the schools Spartan boys attended, as it was the Spartan opinion that strong women produced strong babies, which would then grow into strong soldiers to serve the state.(1)
Somewhat ironically, women in Sparta had much more independence than women in other city-states, partially because their husbands never lived at home, and partially because Spartans had tremendous respect for Spartan mothers.
While no marvelous works of art or literature ever came of this system, it did accomplish the Spartan goal of producing elite soldiers. The Spartan military was universally disliked, but they were also universally respected.


In ancient Sparta military training was the rule, not the exception. Sparta was an independent---some say the most independent-- city state in ancient Greece. The citizens of Sparta were great believers in their state. Ancient Spartans placed the state above themselves and the state demanded soldiers to protect it. Those too weak to be soldiers were too week to be Spartans. When a young boy was born to Spartan parents the father would take the child to the council of elders. These old calloused and scarred veterans would look at the naked infant carefully for any birth defects or the slightest sign of weakness or sickness. If they judged the crying baby to be unworthy of carrying a Spartan shield it would be taken immediately to a nearby cliff off Mt. Taygetos and thrown over the edge. If it passed this first of many life tests then the young Spartan boy would be allowed to return to his parent’s home where he lived for six years. Then the agoge or military training would start
When the young Spartan boy reached seven he was deemed too old to be coddled by his parents and was taken from them to live a military life for the rest of his existence. He was placed in a communal barracks with others his age, supervised by an older boy referred to as a Eirena who had respectively been the strongest in his class (and was himself undergoing something like officer training). For the next five years these Spartan boys were conditioned physically and mentally. They were educated- but only enough to count soldiers in a formation, read war sagas and sing and recite war poetry. . They were given rigorous strength and endurance training and physical conditioning through endless field and track events. They were taught wrestling and the art of ancient martial combat to make them lethal. They were fed -but it was a weak broth and in quantities only enough to exist. It was expected that the young starving boys would steal or otherwise find enough food to keep them strong. For this they would only be punished if caught and the lesson learned from this was how to look for food when none was available, a skill that would be needed in the future when occupying a village that had been sacked and abandoned. Discipline was the word to live by, with terrific punishments meted out if caught performing the most minor infraction.
At age twelve the lean and hungry boy was taken from the barracks and made to eat, live and sleep in one garment with no shoes under the open sky for one year, exposed to the beasts and the weather. This yearlong exercise taught survival and fieldcraft skills that he would need when deployed fighting abroad. From age thirteen until he reached what was considered manhood at twenty the Spartan child played very very serious war games. These games often left the contestants dead or injured and would include armed invasions on Messenian agricultural slaves called helots and other non Spartans living nearby. These war games taught small unit tactics, raids, reconnaissance and surveillance, and the art of the ambush. When age twenty was reached the Spartan boy was seen as a solder and had thirteen years of the hardest military training yet devised under his belt. For the next ten years he would still live in barracks as part of the standing army and only at age thirty were they allowed to marry and as a full fledged citizen, reproduce and achieve public office. It was only then that they were granted the privilege to live in their own house and not in barracks. This superbly trained Spartan soldier would still remain in the army no matter where he lived until age sixty when they were allowed to retire.
-----That is, if they were still alive

[Kho]

WHERE THEY ARE NOW: The Saeronian Army System Under the Great Sultan

Army? System? What ARE you talking about? There's only a horde, and lots and lots of people living in Saeron, and all of them have to go to war when the Sultan says so, push a sword or spear and a shield into their hands and send them off to war. If they die? Oh, there's plenty more to fill the gap.

The Saeronian army has no organisation whatsoever, if there's any new conflict, a new army is levied and sent off under an Emir to fight whoever is to be fought, half of the time the Sultan and his "council" do not know what army is where and how many have been levied and how many have been lost, or whether any conflicts have actually been resolved, all they do is dish out more troops and send them into the great unknown (usually to never return.)


WHERE THEY SHALL BE: The Saeronian Army System Under the Council of the Wise

Training and Service

One thousand Loqat - agents who search for children with potential for physical and mental strength - are sent out every five years to find children with potential for a military carreer, usually five to seven year olds, any younger and they won't learn, any older and it is too late. Each Loqat is expected to find at least ten children with potential over a one month period, searching a particular area of Saeron, or a particular part of a city. Once these ten thousand children are collected - the parents usually persuaded by the promise that their children will have much greater opportunities in life - they are split into four groups of two thousand five hundred and sent to four different locations: one group is sent into the mountains west of Zoril. The very first group to ever go there will help build a huge military barrack which shall become their home for the next five years - and the home of all the generations who come after them. The second group will be sent south of Jatal in the scorching Namar Desert, where the first generation will also build their barrack. The third group will be sent south of Tsam/ east of Gahnek, and the fourth group will be sent south of Gahnek, nearer to the Mountains of Serli.

The very first generation will have to build their barrack, which - with the professional help, the two thousand five hundred children, and paid construction workers - is expected to take no more than six months.
Once construction is completed, the real training begins.

For the next ten years these boys are conditioned physically and mentally, they are subject to harsh training and discipline. They are allowed no shoes, very few clothes, and are taught to take pride in enduring pain and hardship. Throughout their years, the boys are required to become proficient in all manner of military activities. They are given rigorous strength and endurance training and physical conditioning through endless field and track events. They are taught boxing, swimming, wrestling, javelin-throwing, discus-throwing, and the art of ancient martial combat to make them lethal. A further part of their basic military physical training, are things such as running, long and high jump and carrying heavy packs.
They are fed - but it is a weak broth and in quantities only enough to exist, so that they may get used to the hunger and be able to endure such hardships when the time comes, although once a week they are given a filling meal to keep their strength up.
Discipline is the word to live by, with terrific punishments meted out if caught performing the most minor infraction. As a part of discipline they are also taught to march. It is seen as a matter of greatest importance that Saeronian soldiers can march at speed, after the great disorder and havoc not being able to do so caused under the Sultan, any army which would be split up by stragglers at the back or soldiers trundling along at differing speeds would be vulnerable to attack, hence right from the beginning the boys are trained to march in line and to keep the army a compact fighting unit on the move, so that it becomes second nature to them.

For this, during the summer months the boys are to be marched twenty miles, which has to be completed in six hours.
The boys are taught what is needed for them to become great believers in their nation. They are taught to place Saeron and the people above themselves. They are also cared for by older scholars whenever they are not training, who teach them religion, ethics and generally strengthen their moral wellbeing and their will, usually through strengthening their religious feelings, after all, a man who believes God stands by his side is unstoppable. They are also educated to count soldiers in a formation, read war sagas and sing and recite war poetry.
At age twelve the lean and hungry boy is taken from the barracks and made to eat, live and sleep in one garment with no shoes under the open sky for one year, exposed to the beasts and the weather. This yearlong exercise teaches survival and fieldcraft skills that he would need when deployed fighting abroad. From age thirteen until the boy reaches what is considered manhood at twenty the boys play very, very serious war games. These games often leave the contestants dead or injured and would include armed attacks on each other in small groups representing armies. These war games teach small unit tactics, raids, reconnaissance and surveillance, and the art of the ambush.
For this they primarily use wickerwork shields and wooden swords. Both the shields and the swords are made to standards which make them twice as heavy as the original weapons. After all, if a soldier can fight with a heavy dummy weapon, he would be twice as effective with the proper one. The dummy weapons are at first employed against heavy wooden stakes, about six foot high, rather than against their fellows. Against these wooden stakes the boys train the various moves, strikes and counter-strikes with the sword.
Only once the boys are deemed able enough in fighting against the stakes, are they assigned in pairs to train in individual combat, and eventually, they go on to play the war games, where the best are distinguished from the rest, possible leaders are found, and any who have not improved to the correct level usually meet their downfall.
Along with completing the initial training with the sword, the boys master the use of the spear and various other weapons. For this the wooden stakes are also put to use as targets. The spears and other weapons used for practice are twice the weight of the regular spear and weapons. Training is given such importance that even in the worst of whether conditions, weapon drills, exercise and horse riding goes on.
At the age of twenty, the boys are men, and what’s more, they are full-fledged Sajannaries (Sa-Ja-Ne-Reez), ready to go out into the world and put their training into good use. The training takes on average, fifteen years, from the age of five/six to twenty, and every five years, a new wave of five year olds turn up at the barracks, so that at any one time (apart from the first two generations) there are 7500 boys-in-training ranging from five to twenty in any one barrack, which is why they are initially built to be larger than needed for the two thousand five hundred children of the first generation.
Once they become full-fledged Sajannaries at twenty, the boys have a further fifteen years of service. Each generation that graduates past the barracks becomes a Horde. Each Horde us split into four Regiments of two thousand five hundred, and usually those the two thousand five hundred who trained together form a Regiment. The person who leads a Horde is selected out of five candidates, those being the very best from each Regiment, and one close runner up, through an exercise which tests every aspect of their training and more – martial arts, track and field events, swimming, weapon mastery, tactical and strategic ability, intelligence, religious fervour, charisma – and the one who proves to be the most skilled in all areas earns the role of Lion of the Horde, or just Lion. The other four become Saero’s of their respective Regiments, at the command of the Lion, who in turn is loyal to the Council of the Wise. The Lion also receives a host of five hundred veteran Sajinnaries who had completed their fifteen years in service and chose to continue on.
After the fifteen years in service, the Sajinnaries can either choose to retire and get married, living on his considerable wage, or he can choose go into another line of work, such as a political one as part of the Council of the Wise or a minister in some other position in Saeron, and of course, he can choose to continue in the army, becoming a part of the Veteran Sajinnary Corps and be tied to one of the Lions of a Horde. The final thing a Sajinnary can become is a Great Lion in the Council of the Wise, who has power over all the Hordes, any Lion of any Horde answers to him and the Council.

The Rank System

The Great Lion – A former Lion of the Horde who has become part of the Council of the Wise, and has complete control over all the Hordes at all times, along with the Council of the Wise. All Lions, Saero’s, and Sajinnaries in general answer to this man, not only because he is a Council Member, but because he is also a former-Lion himself. Any command from this man must be answered without question, unless there is direct opposition from the other Councillors. He holds the right to remove any Lion from his position should he feel it is necessary to do so.

Lion of the Horde – There are three of these at any one time, as there are three Hordes present at any one time. These are the great commanders of the Hordes, who have direct control over their entire Horde and which Regiment goes where and whether a certain move is good or not. A Lion is answerable to the any of the Councillors, and especially the Great Lion who holds the right to remove the Lion from his position. Seeing as this person has ten thousand Sajinnaries under their control, they wield immense power and authority wherever they go, including the Council, where the views of a Lion are seriously considered whenever they are put forward.

Saero – A Saero has direct command over a Regiment, which is made up of two thousand five hundred Sajinnaries. A Saero sees a great number of battles, as he is expected to fight with his Regiment in the battles that the Regiment has. He is also expected to design the strategic and tactical battle plans for each battle. Reports are written by the Saero containing information about any casualties, detailed narratives of events that happen such as battles, and of any Sajinnaries who have distinguished themselves in the battlefield and are worthy of promotion.

Saerojin – Each regiment is split into two groups of one thousand two hundred and fifty, group led by a Saerojin. These act as assistants to the Saero more than anything else, and do not weild much more authority than other soldiers except during battles where they can give orders, and in the design of battle plans where they usually sit with the Saero and devise the best strategy. Other than that, they are normal soldiers, who cannot give any orders out of battle.

Sajinnaries – The elite soldiers that make up the entirety of Saerons army, the first Horde of ten thousand men is to be put to the test fifteen years after the fall of the Sultan. While they are being trained, the old Saeronian soldiers have been trained in the basics of warfare and marching, and can now be relied upon to keep the Dunkuran threat at bay, and any other threat with their sheer manpower.

[Kho]

The Second Great Plague: War for Adria



The great land of Jarmoth is once more plagued by a great evil, the warring Clans of Mor, exiled to the farthest and most bitter place in the world have united under one banner at last, under one known as the Great War Chief Da’Kull, a Morian of intelligence and wit unlike any seen from his species in millennia. After uniting the warring clans, he set out on his dark crusade; to conquer all of Jarmond and bring it to its knees. Breaking free of the land they were trapped in, a land suffering from the side effects of ancient Destructive Magic. The weather can change from the coldest winter to the most severe and cruel summer within minutes, and back again. These weather conditions, the magic within the land, and the natural hardiness and power of Morians has turned these beasts into near invincible creatures of war and destruction.

They set out many years ago, from the cursed island of Dagria and to the first of the six island continents of Jarmoth. The nations upon these continents stood no chance against the raw power and strength of the United Clans of Mor, and so it was that the continent of Dre’Val fell, a land known for the hardiness of its barbarian people who knew nothing but war, the nearest thing to a Morian a human could get. They were the first to fall.

Next came the great continent of Grandia, the continent of greatest magic, where dragons and elves and dwarves and all kinds of legendary creatures dwell. Perhaps if they had had enough time to prepare, they could’ve put a stop to the marauding Clans, but they had no time before the great grey and green giants were upon them, tearing their great cities, their magic, tearing it all asunder.

The fall of Grandia came as a great blow to the remaining four continents, and they rushed to form alliances and prepare defenses. Alas, it was all in vain, and one by one Fradinteig, Halvara and Jedra fell. Fradinteig, land of the legendary ice and fire giants, Halvara land of the spirit mages, men who could leave their bodies and attack the very souls of their enemies, and Jedra, land of the noble Jedrans, the only people who had united their whole continent, turning it into one nation under one ruler, they were known to be the finest humans, tall, strong dark skinned men, able to craft weapons on par with the elves and dwarves of Grandia. Alas, they too fell, although they put up a fight which lasted much longer than any other, holding back the clans for five whole years.

Now only one continent remains before the hordes, Adria; a continent made up of two huge islands. The continent is split into five diverse nations, each with culture and traditions of their own:
Mardithia, High Ifferia, The Majdal Empire, Thirrmod and Andaluja.
The High Emperor of the Majdal Empire, Landen the Brave, was wise enough to see that separately, the five nations could not stand a chance against the United Clans of Mor, and so, while the war with Jedra went on, he proposed an alliance between all the five nations of Adria, to create the Adrial League, led by himself; the High Emperor of the Majdal Empire. After much negotiation, this was agreed to, and the Council of Kings was formed, ruled over by High Emperor Landen.

Then the Morians struck, and their first attack quite possibly destroyed all chances of victory, for they targeted the legendary Island City of Eladnos, where all the great and mighty magi from all over Jarmoth dwelled, it is the place where the great Magic Academies which teach magic and the Schools of Thought are situated. The fall of Eladnos before the Clans was a most deadly event, but the Adrial League will not go down without a fight.

Where will you come in? How will you be able to change the fate of Adria, a fate which has befallen five continents already? Create a character, get ready, and let the final showdown begin.

If enough interest is shown, I'll go ahead to:

Put down the cities on the map
Put down the lore for each nation
Put down the race sheet for Morians
Put down the profiles of People of Note, such as Monarchs of the Nations or Great War Chief Da'Kull





...Further Info...

Unless I have stated otherwise, when I say ‘Morian’ I mean males. If I mean female Morians I will state so.

NAME

The Clans of Mor, a Morian (singular), the Morians (plural)


ALIAS

Even though different Morians may have different aliases or titles amongst themselves, their enemies usually call them the Clans (instead of the Clans of Mor.) They have been called Grey Furies, Maneaters, Devilmen etc (if you have any good nicknames, feel free to tell me and I’ll add it to the list ;D)


GENDER

Morians can be both Male and Female. The females tend to be much smaller in size than the males and relatively weaker. It is the females however who have all the brains, while most males are lumbering idiots who would not know what was what if not looked after by a wife (or wives.) Of course, there are some very rare occasions where a male with exceptionally high intelligence is born (such as Great War Chief Da’Kull,) and when such a prodigy is born he is usually a genius of great proportions, with more potential than even the most learned scholars of the world.


HEIGHT

Adult Morians tend to be twice as tall as a big, strong adult human, and four times as wide.


WEIGHT

For their size, Morians are extremely light and it is their lightness which makes them so quick and agile despite their huge size. Despite that, if do happen to get stepped on by a Morian, you can expect to never open your eyes and live again.


AGE

Morians tend to live for hundreds of years; the oldest amongst them reaching the fine old age of nine hundred take or give fifty years. On Average however, they tend to live till six hundred which is when most of them would either die of old age, disease or defeat in battle (usually in a duel with a younger Morian)


HAIR

Morian hair tends to be black, even though you do get the odd occasions when it is a dark brown.


EYES

Morian eyes can be a range of different colours, ranging from colours which humans have (blue, green, brown, black, hazel etc) to colours which humans cannot have, such as red, yellow, orange and white.


BODY MARKINGS

Morians tend to be generally unscarred, as their skin protects them from any harm possible – in battle at least. However, you do get the odd Morian who may have received a battle scar from a particularly powerful blow, usually in a duel with another Morian, the only other way for Morians to be scarred is through magical means, such as a fire blast which leaves burn marks etc.
Morians also tend to decorate their backs with tattoos, a line on one’s shoulder blade means that they have proven themselves in battle, two means they’ve proven themselves and excelled in battle. A line going down their spine means they’ve proven themselves good at leading other Morians in battles, while two lines parallel to the one over their spine means they’ve proven they can lead many men in battle. Two more lines on their shoulder blades shows they have won many battles they led )please DO help me out with these, if you have any more things which they can get tattoos for do say)


CLOTHING

Morians tend to wear nothing more than some kind of kilt or protective item around their hips, to cover their manly parts, some, but not all would have extra accessories such as a shoulder guard or a helmet.


PERSONALITY

Male Morians tend to be extremely dumb and unable to grasp even the simplest of things, the only thing which they seem to be able to excel at is fighting, which is lucky as there is plenty of fighting to be done. You do get the rare prodigy once every ten to fifteen millennia, who would be extraordinarily intelligent, not just for a male Morian, but in the world at large, these male prodigies are not only abnormally intelligent and physically exceptional, they are also able to sense and use magic. Their magical ability is so great that what is recorded in the history books claims that the reason there are six continents is because of a magical accident a Morian prodigy had when trying to make the sun set in the west instead of the east (of course the scientific way to do that is to make the world spin in the other direction, however when the world began to slow down; chaotic disasters struck causing the once great Pangaea to split into six great continents and few minor ones.)
Female Morians are very different from male ones however; their intelligence is above average, but not quite genius level, even though you do get the odd one or two geniuses in every generation. It is not uncommon to find that females actually rule over males in Morian society, unfortunately, no matter how smart they are, they cannot curb the male want for violence, or their lack of intelligence and must in the end allow them to continue fighting each other, even if the females from the opposing clans are actually quite friendly with one another. It is quite a funny relationship, while most males hate every other one of the five clans and think they are all out to destroy them, the females see the bigger picture; the males go out and kill each other off in battles, then return home at the end of the day, the weak die and only the strongest return, and all the while the females prosper and are happy and to some extent, so do the males who survive.


LIKES AND DISLIKES

Morians don’t tend to like or dislike anything on particular; they are relatively neutral towards most things unless directed against or for that thing. However, all Morians hate any Clan which is not theirs, and even this can be forgotten when a leader strong enough comes along. What cannot be forgotten or gotten rid of however, is their love for battle, no matter who leads, whether a female Morian or the greatest male prodigy, Morian lust for battle can never be quelled, and it is said in the old books that the flame of battle shall forever burn in their hearts, until the sun itself burns out and destroys the world with it.
Female Morians are more complicated than that, and tend to be a lot more like human females, and as I am not a human female, I cannot ever hope to understand them, let alone Morian ones ^^’


FEARS

Fears? Oh, you mean everyone else’s fear of them? Thought you were suggesting that Morians actually feel fear for a second back there.


WEAKNESSES

Morians are the most powerful creatures to stalk the world; no mere mortal… or even immortal can ever hope to best them in physical combat, whether by sword or bow, the Morian will always emerge victorious. However, Morians as I stated earlier, are extremely dumb, which is quite possibly their greatest weakness; an intelligent male Morian would be completely and utterly invincible. The other weakness Morians have is magic, as it is magic alone which can ever hope to get through their impenetrable skin (and of course, the brute strength of another Morian.)
Female Morians tend to be much weaker than the males, and are exceptionally vulnerable, even though their skin is tougher than usual and they are stronger than your average man, they can be taken down quite easily by a single skilled man or a few relatively unskilled and weak men.


STRENGTHS

Morians are the most powerful beings in the world, they can bring huge buildings crashing down with brute force alone, they can dig huge holes and tunnels with their bare hands, they can crush metal with their teeth, physically, they are perfect, nothing is too high for them to jump over, too strong for them to steamroll through, a mere flick of their pinky can knock a humans head off.
Female Morians have higher than average intelligence and every generation has one or two geniuses, they are the only creatures in the world known to be able to control male Morians to an extent.
Male Morian Prodigies are an unfair creation, they are the closest thing to perfection this world will ever have, not only are they intelligent beyond measure, they also have natural physical strength beyond that of even the strongest Morians, and when these two talents are harnessed and trained properly, a Prodigy can become “invincible” much earlier in their life, for a Prodigy is destined to become invincible, training only quickens that process. The greatest unfairness about Prodigies is the fact that they, unlike other Morians are able to sense and use magic; it is as if all the magical abilities of the Morians has been stored in this one creature. A Prodigies’ magical abilities are greater than any in the world, greater than even the Dragons and the Elves and the great Magi of Eladnos. It is written in the ancient tomes that the reason there is six continents is because a Morian Prodigy tried to make the sun rise in the west and set in the east, and this caused many natural disasters and catastrophes, defacing the mighty Pangaea that once existed and turning it into six great continents and a few smaller ones.


ITEMS

Morians wield any weapon available, swords, maces, clubs, axes, knives etc and if there are no weapons available, then they wield what they use best: their hands.


BUILD/APPEARANCE

Morians are giants, their adults are twice the size of a big adult human and they are four times as wide, they have heavily muscled bodies which unlike humans, can be inherited from their parents. Morians come in different shades of green and grey, and some are a mix of both. They have two arms and two legs like humans, but the shape of their skeleton is very different. Their leg bones and arm bones are much thicker and heavier than humans, and their rib cage is more of a web, with four layers of bone between the vital organs and the impenetrable skin. All the organs in their bodies are made of muscle tissue, and instead one pair of lungs, Morians have six, which makes them much more able to endure hard training and long arduous sprints at top speed without tiring, and their muscles also play a part in that. Morian skulls are also much thicker; since male brains are smaller this means that their skulls can be much thicker. Prodigies and females also have thick skulls, but nowhere near as thick as a normal male Morian.

Spoiler

Eladnos

Spoiler

The great Island of Eladnos has been the center of magic in Jarmoth for thousands of years. Ever since the First Great Plague; when the fearsome Morian Prodigy An’Dar-Led was destroyed by the Order of Eladnos, magically able people from all races have flooded to the small Island in Adria. The battle with An’Dar-Led saw eight of the ten Arch-Magi of the Order of Eladnos die, and a ninth died of wounds sustained in the fearsome battle. The great duel was so destructive that the island it took place on was permanently damaged; it is to this island – the Island of Dagria – that Morians were exiled until the rise of the Great War Chief and Morian Prodigy, Da’Kull.

The last surviving Arch-Mage of the Order of Eladnos, Verilius Ganray, became the founder of the Magic Academy of Eladnos, and he also founded the biggest and most respected School of Thought on Eldanos. Since then, many more Magic Academies and Schools of Thought have appeared, but the two he founded remain the most prestigious.

Eladnos has a population of people from all over Jarmoth; barbarian shamans from Dre’Val come all year round, seeking knowledge and spiritual power, many people of Dre’Valian descent already live on the Island. Half Dragons, Elves, Dwarves and many more creatures from the legendary continent of Grandia also dwell on Eladnos, and more come every year. Ice Giants, and Half Ice Giants from Fradinteig, mythical Spirit Mages from Halvara, and mighty, dark skinned Jedran spell casters, known for both their amazing physical strength and magical ability all call Eladnos their home, and all voyage from their respective continents so that they may live and learn there.

Something which has baffled people over the ages, is that no matter how many went to live on Eladnos, it never became crowded or overpopulated, there was always enough space, food, water and much more for all who came and became citizens, and as magically able people can live to hundreds if not thousands of millennia, the population does not decrease from death of citizens. It is generally thought that this strange thing is due to an ancient spell, or because of the heavy concentration of magic on the island.

The Island of Eladnos was completely destroyed in the Second Great Plague, falling to the might of the United Clans of Mor. The attack had been completely unexpected, and in the dead of night. The older magi cast a great teleporting spell to get all magi below the age of a thousand off the Island, spreading them all over Adria, in the hope that they may learn and be able to fight back against the Morians. The older magi put up a great fight, annihilating thousands of Morians, more than all Morian losses in the Second Great Plague to that point, but eventually, exhaustion and Morian relentlessness brought them down.

Eladnos is now a mere shadow of its former self, it’s great Magical Academies have been destroyed, it’s Schools of Thought are in ruins, it’s legendary Libraries, filled with the knowledge of millions, if not billions of scholars, are no more. Eladnos has fallen, like five other continents before it, to the chaotic and destructive power wielded by the Morians. All is not lost however, as the young Magi of Eladnos live on, spread out all over Adria, they may be the only hope left against the advancing hordes of the United Clans of Mor.

Mardithia

Spoiler

The land of the mighty towering knights, men covered from head to toe in plate armor, able to charge into the most well-fortified defenses of any army and crush them. Indeed, Mardithian knights are well known as the Bane of Spears, for it is they who destroyed the advantage spears had over riders, their heavy plate armor which covers both them and their horses causes spears to splinter and break upon contact with them. Not only is the Mardithian cavalry a fearsome power, but their heavy infantry is also a force to be reckoned with, men garbed in pretty much the same armor as knights but on foot. They are walking tanks, able to rip through line after line of militia and even professional soldiers, if they are experienced enough.

Mardithia is not just a land of warring men though; it is a land of chivalry, honor and pride. It is a land where men fight for the sake of those they love, where they win the hearts of the people through act of valor, bravery and kindness. Even though all Mardithians aim to follow this code as much as possible, it is not a perfect land. In every nation, one will find fiends and villains who will attempt to ruin a good thing, and Mardithia is no different.

Mardithians are split into three classes, the Thianides who are the upper ruling class, a Thianide rules over a single city and all the Thianides report to the High Thian who rules from the capital city of Dwaremburg. The Spines are the traders and free men who have professions and are the middle class, known as Spines because they are the back bone of the nation, and if they stop working or something causes them to halt, the whole country would be expected to fall into ruin

The Turners are the lowest class and are usually servants or slaves of a Spine or Thianide, and must plow the land, hence the name Turners, they turn the soil. Knights are usually from a Thianide background, and can sometimes be of Spine background, and common soldiers are usually of Spine or Turner background, although being of a certain background does not mean that one can’t go up or down depending on acts of valor or bravery shown in battle or in life in general. The class system is very loose; one can be born a Turner and end his life as a Thianide of the highest standings; for all men are judged by their deeds and not by their birth class. Of course, corruption exists, but that is something all men must face if they want to get anywhere in life, and those who deserve to rise will do so, against all the odds.

Mardithian military, as powerful as its infantry and cavalry is, does not have any ranged soldiers of note. Their only ranged soldiers are lightly armed spearmen who attempt to throw spears at the enemy before a cavalry charge, usually the distance is too far, and even if they can reach, they are too inaccurate to hit anyone. For this reason, one would find that Mardithian armies have long abandoned any ranged soldiers and rely solely on their infantry and cavalry to get the job done.

Mardithia has now joined the Adrial League after much negotiation with the other four nations of Adria. The Clans of Mor have already eradicated Eladnos, as far as the Adrial League is concerned, Magi and all men of Magical Ability are no more, it is now up to normal men to rise up to the Morians.

High Ifferia

Spoiler

High Ifferia has long been a land of great mystery, and inspiration for many a poet and writer. Tales of its disciplined swordsmen – men who call themselves Kenraiton. The Kenraiton (Ken-Riy-Ton (Riy rhymes with Tie)) have a long history in High Ifferia; they were originally peasants who rose up against the warlord Aku Seishin a thousand years ago, who oppressed them and forced them to plow the fields all day with no pay at all. The fall of the warlord saw the then much smaller nation enter a time of great turmoil and civil upheaval. The country split into five factions, each led by a new warlord seeking total domination. After ten years of this, the peasants rose up once more, all united under the banner of an elderly peasant going by the name of Kitai.

Kitai was a strange man, he knew where the armies of the warlords would come from and what their tactics will be, he knew exactly what to do and how to do it. Under his leadership the peasants managed to topple all five warlords and unite the nation, not allowing it to fall into civil unrest once more. Kitai quickly created a military organization which he called the Kentaiki (Ken-Tie-Kee.)

The Kentaiki kept order in the land, catching thieves and making sure that criminals did not get away with harming normal people or stealing from them. The Kentaiki quickly became national heroes, and their actions paved the way for Kitai’s eventual reorganization of the nation and the rise of the small nation of Ifferia, which would eventually conquer all the small nations around it and become the single largest Empire in Adria with the help of the Kenraiton.

It took many generations for Ifferia to conquer all of the southern coasts and reach the great mountains, Kitai had long died by the time it was renamed by the fifteenth Emperor of the Ifferia, Xin Wu, and it became High Ifferia. Xin Wu also had the legendary City of Xin Wu built, a city the size of mountains, and as impenetrable as they are, and it became the capital city of High Ifferia ten years after Xin Wu’s death.

At this time the Kentaiki were still an organization directly controlled by the Emperor, but their role had changed from a police like group to the Emperors guard and officers of the army. It was in the reign of the sixteenth Emperor Den Ryuu that the Kentaiki was finally disbanded after allegations against them. It was claimed that many of them had been scheming to take the Emperors life and create a new nation run by them. Many of the Kentaiki were hunted down and killed. Of the five hundred who had been the Emperors Guard and highest rankers in the army, only seventeen survived. Four of those went into hiding and died of old age. The thirteen others all went and lived far from the capital, where they could fight off any bounty hunters foolish enough to test them. Each of them found himself becoming a teacher of the Art of the Sword, and so it was that the Thirteen Sword Schools were formed.

Each Kentaiki taught his students his own particular style, but all of them were united on one thing; and that was the Code of the Sword (later Code of the Kenraiton), a code which every sword warrior must abide by:

Justice: This is about doing the right thing or making the right decision, not because it's easy, but because it's ethically and morally correct.
No matter the outcome or result, one does not lose face if tempering proper justice.
This can also be defined as righteousness, justice, morality, honor, or "right conduct". In more a more expanded definition, it can mean loyalty to friends, loyalty to the public good, or patriotism. This idea of loyalty and friendship comes from the fact that you will treat those you are loyal to with morality and justice.

Courage: This is showing bravery, courage, valor, or fearlessness in the face of hardships or when facing ones fears. True sword warriors never back down out of fear or doubt, they will always stand their ground.

Benevolence: Beyond "benevolence" this can also be defined as "charity" or "mercy" depending on context.
This code suggests that one should pay alms to the poor, care for those in trouble, and take care of his fellow man (or woman).
This code also includes perfect virtue, selflessness, love for humanity, humaneness, goodness, good will, or simply "love" in the non-romantic form.

Respect: One shows respect by speaking and acting with courtesy. One treats others with dignity and honors the rules of the family, school and nation. Respect yourself, and others will respect you. Honor is also part of respect; it is about having or earning the respect of others and about your reputation. It is the status of being worthy of honor.
This code can also be understood as propriety, good manners, politeness, and expression of gratitude.

Honesty: This code means truth, faith, fidelity, sincerity, trust and confidence.
This means that a sword warrior believes "honesty is the best policy", as his/her personal philosophy.

Loyalty: The idea of being faithful, devoted, true, and obedient.

Wisdom: This can mean intellect, knowledge or reason. Beyond the title definitions, this also can mean resourcefulness, or wit. Insight and the ability to see beyond the small mindedness of people, the ability to see the greater picture and make the right decisions from this knowledge.

After the schools were formed and they gained fame, people stopped referring to them as the Kentaik, and instead called them Kenraiton, people who lived by the Sword and the Code of the Kenraiton. The Kenraiton would soon become the only warrior accepted into the army, and prove had to be shown that the Kenraiton who wanted to join the army had have been taught at one of the Thirteen Sword Schools. With the shocking increase in the army’s strength, High Ifferia quickly conquered what is now High Ifferia in less than three years. The Kenraiton were not only numerous in number, they were also of the highest quality, each of them training in one of the Thirteen Sword Schools from an age as early as four or five.

Now nearly four hundred years later, High Ifferia’s Kenraiton are as powerful as they were all those years back, if not even more. The Emperor has had to put his plans of conquering the Majdal Empire to the side however, as a new threat now plagues the land. The Morians have arrived, and they will not discriminate between an Ifferian or a Majdalan, the Adrial Leaguehas been formed, all of Adria has united for the first time in history, now all that’s left to do is fight. Fight for the world and their very existence.

The Majdal Empire

Spoiler

The Majdal Empire is a relatively young Empire, having risen into power one hundred or so years before the attack of the Morians. Originally made up of three warring nations, each with their own cultural and military tradition, only a powerful leader could hope to unite them. This powerful leader rose to power in the Kingdom of Majdal, and within five years had a standing army unlike any other seen before, instead of concentrating on huge numbers and relentlessness to win battles; he had had a new idea: tactics, discipline and training. He had seen how the neighboring nations of Ifferia and Mardithia had standing armies which were trained and disciplined, and he reformed his Kingdoms army on this basis, but he went one step further: he trained and disciplined them to work in formations, he came up with the idea of designing an army to be tactically superior to any enemy, just by existing.
He created a formation very similar to the roman testudo formation, but with spears jutting out of the front, flanks and back, make it very much like a hedgehog. Anyone foolish enough to approach this tank of a formation was assuredly going to die. This proved effective against cavalry, as they were put down by the spears when they tried to charge in, it also proved effective against archers who could not harm the completely protected Majdalan soldiers, and it also proved effective to some extent, against infantry who would receive great losses before the Majdalan soldiers would finally break the Testu-Phalanx formation and finish off the enemy infantry with short swords, extremely effective at close range. This army was and still is the most disciplined in all of Adria, since they have never known defeat, they have never been known to flee, although the skirmishes with High Ifferia were never won either, they were more of tactical retreats on both sides.
With this new formation and army, the Majdal Kingdom completely eradicated the other two warring Kingdoms in a matter of months, absorbing their cultures and creating one, united and powerful nation; the Majdal Empire. The Majdal Empire has been growing ever more powerful since then, its trade and economy both booming, and its military power as indomitable and powerful as it was a hundred years before. Even though the Majdal Empire could’ve swept through the continent, causing havoc and possibly conquering the other nations, its Emperors have been very peace-loving, preferring to prosper rather than conquer, its skirmishes with High Ifferia have also kept its army down to a relatively low number, as training more recruits takes a very long time.
The Majdal Empire has a very strict class system, made up of four tiers, the first is made up of the Emperor and Military Elite (generals etc) at the top – with the Emperor being the chief commander of the whole army, second come the Emperors relatives, nobility and other aristocrats, while third are the merchants and landowners, those who have created their own class through wealth, and at the bottom, as usual, are the workers and peasants. No one can encroach upon the power of the Emperor and his Military, he is the supreme commander and authority in the land. Generals and military officials have even more power than the crown prince. As all Emperors have been liberal and reforming thus far, this has caused no problems, with even the peasants and workers having a relatively good quality of life. Inspectors constantly make sure that they are treated fairly by landowners and aristocrats, and that even though they are not paid for working, that they are fed properly and have as much freedom in their villages as possible. The city workers have these inspections as well, and their places of living and food are always checked for quality and quantity. However, these only happen due to the Emperor pushing for them, should an ignorant ruler come along, these inspections can disappear and the lowest class may end up in utter poverty, willing to rebel and cause great havoc.

Thirrmod

Spoiler

Thirrmod is the land of the Longbow, it is considered an utter disgrace for any man to not be able to hit the bulls eye at a hundred yards. The range of a normal longbow is two hundred yards, while a Thirrmodian Longbow has a range of two hundred and fifty yards. It is very easy for Thirrmod to levy up a huge army, as pretty much all of its population – men and women – are experts, if not masters, in the use of the Longbow. The biggest trade here (other than being in archery competitions) is longbow-making. It is greatly demanded in Thirrmod, but Andaluja also imports the longbows for its own army, although their longbowmen are not as numerous or good as Thirrmodian masters.
There isn’t much of a class system in Thirrmod, which is strange for a nation with a population of two hundred thousand or so, as everything is decided with the bow, if you come over One hundred thousandth in the annual archery competition, then you go and work on the farms for the year. If you come between fifty thousandth and one hundred thousandth then you get to choose any trade and become a merchant. If you come from one thousandth to fifty thousandth then you join the standing army – making the Thirrmodian army the biggest in Adria – if you come between tenth and a thousandth, then you instruct the young in the archery schools, a job which is very highly paid and respected, while the first to tenth become members of the Council of the Bow and rule Thirrmod until the next annual competition. It is a very simple but very effective system, centered on becoming better at using the bow to get any higher in the society.
There is however, one person who is exempt from this rule, known as the Senzero, he is trained from a young age in literature, history, languages, archery (of course) and many others, and sits as the head of the Council of the Bow, giving advice and sometimes denying the Council permission to do things which can have chaotic consequences, if the Council insists however (which has never happened) then the Senzero cannot stand in their way. Each Senzero gets a child with potential when he reaches his fortieth year, so as to train the next Senzero. Should a Senzero die earlier than expected, then one of the Councilors takes his place until a new Senzero is trained.

Andaluja

Spoiler

Andaluja is a very strange nation indeed; they started off as a very small tribal people, ever fighting amongst themselves, mainly concentrated near and around the Andaal Mountains. After decades upon decades of this, a strange man was born, he claimed to be a messenger from God, and that he came to unite the people and guide them to the straight path. The Andalujans were a harsh people however, solidly disbelieving in the existence of any kind of deity. They exiled this “prophet” and denied him any right to return. It was after decades that they finally heard any news of him, and it spread terror through their ranks. He had returned, and with him came armies of men, loyal followers of the God this prophet preached. He did not just bring men however, for men alone could never scare the Andalujans, he brought creatures unseen before or since, creatures of light, unkillable, able to smite all who stood in their way. Of course the Andalujans had their own shamans who summoned beasts and demons, but none could withstand the creatures of light. All who fought were killed, those who surrendered lived, and no woman, child or old man was harmed, forbidden were the trees from being cut down. It was a complete victory for the prophet, but after it his loyal creatures disappeared, and the armies he’d brought fell away, and he was once more, nothing but a man. The Andalujans followed him however, for they had seen in this man a miracle of the mighty one.

Their spread was astounding, they exploded outwards, bringing all the tribes in present-day Andaluja under their control, but before they could go any further, their prophet returned to his maker, and they stopped any expansionistic ambitions, focusing on building up the lands they had, and build up they did.
Andaluja today holds miracles of human architecture, knowledge beyond anything in any other nations, it is even said that they have created something capable of killing even a Morian, whether that is true is yet to be discovered.
The Andalujans live a life free of rigid class systems or discrimination, there nation is very advanced not only knowledge wise, but also ethically and humanly, ever since their prophet a thousand years ago, discrimination and all kinds of things which stand in the way of advancement have been removed, completely cut off from their culture. Here, it matters not whether you are black, white, male or female, you can be a servant or the King of Kings, Khalifa of Andaluja, as far as anyone is concerned, your life is what you make of it, and the better you make it, the happier God will be with you.
Every job and position in Andaluja is given importance, servants and slaves are respected by those they work for, treated as brothers rather than inferiors, for everyone is a slave of God, and none of them would want to be treated badly when by their master when they meet their creator, and so slavery has become more of a responsibility on the master rather than the slave – any need or want that the slave does not have to help him best do his job, is a failing on the masters part, and any lack of motivation and willingness to serve, is a failing on the slaves part.
Farmers are also highly admired and respected, seen as the ones who allow life to continue, for they bring food and growth to Andaluja. The most respected however, are the scholars and men of knowledge who are always thinking, teaching and discovering new things, it is they who push Andaluja forward, who supply the knowledge on the best ways of farming, new ways of building, how to act in public, and on a higher level, discoveries in mathematics, the sciences, religion, history and geography, to list but a few. Education and the search for knowledge is a part of the Andalujan religion, and not merely a pastime, so any who go down this route are seen as some of the most devout and holy of figures, their thoughts highly respected, their knowledge greatly relied on.
The Khalifa himself has a council of these scholars, a Council of Wise-men to guide and advise him in matters of state, what is best to do and what best not to do. These wise men are very in touch with the people and can bring the true needs and wants of the people directly to the Khalifa, making for a very efficient system, highly difficult to corrupt, especially since the wise men are carefully selected by each other, so that only the most pious and truly wise may rise to that position.
Their religion has spread through-out Adria over the ages, and there is now a fair split in the population, those who are atheists and those who believe in the “Religion of the Middle” as it is called, worshipping a God known as the “Life-Bringer” or Muh’Yee as those who believe in him call him. Unlike one would think, there is no hostility between Middy (follower of the Religion of the Middle) and Atheists, as Middy’s are commanded by the Muh’Yee to harm none who harm them not, and atheists find no reason to start a fight with a friendly cat which could easily turn into a vicious tiger when pushed too far.
The Andalujan army is also a wonder, unlike the other nations, they do not have certain strength or a certain weakness, although many would argue that their faith and unbreakable will is the most powerful thing possible, for a people who believe they fight with God at their side can never falter or accept defeat. This combined with their magnificent Mameluke riders – elite horsemen trained from a young age – their hardy Janissaries – elite infantry also trained from a young age – and their bowmen armed with Thirrmodian Longbows, not even the most overwhelming odds or most disciplined forces can hope to defeat them. Their new enemies however, the Morians, are no normal enemy, the power of God shall come face to face with the pure, brute strength of creatures which are – in their own right – gods.

New Map of Adria

Spoiler

Majdal Empire - The City of Majdal
Thirrmod - The City of Lonrrow
Andaluja - The City of Imad'Addin
High Ifferia - The City of Xin'Wu
Mardithia - The City of Dwaremburg
Eladnos - No Capital City

The dots are all other cities, big or small. I will name them as the RP progresses, as it is you who will come up with their names while RPing.

NAME:

ALIAS (If They Have One):

DoB (Day and Month):

GENDER:

HEIGHT:

WEIGHT:

ETHNICITY (What Nation S/He Originates From):

AGE:

HAIR:

EYES:

BODY MARKINGS (Scars, Tattoos etc.):

BUILD/APPEARANCE (Written Description or Image):

CLOTHING:

HISTORY:

PERSONALITY:

LIKES:

DISLIKES:

FEARS:

WEAKNESSES:

STRENGTHS:

ITEMS (Staffs, Swords, Orbs etc):

ABILITIES (Skills):

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MAGICAL Talent

(High: they are naturally able to sense and use magic very well, even if they have never trained properly.
Medium: they can naturally sense and use magic to an extent, even though they are unable to cast anything of too high a level without further training.
Low: they find it very difficult to sense and cast magic, and even after years of training, they will not be as magically able as someone who’s trained and is of a higher talent):


MAGICAL Ability

(High: they have trained for a very long time to bring their magic under their control, and have mastered much from training and experience. Able to cast quite difficult spells with a decent level of control.
Medium: they have trained a bit, and have gotten the gist of how to summon magic to them and form it into the general shapes and forms they want, however their control isn’t great enough for them to cast difficult spells well
Low: they have barely trained, and their magical power (if they have any) is wild and difficult to tame, making casting any spell a dangerous process):

[Kho]

12, 6, 3, 24

12, 4, 3, 18

6, 3, 2, 6, 12

12, 3

[Kho]

[Kho]

Dramatic 01
Dramepicness 01
Dramepicness 02
Dramepicness 03
Dramepicness 04
Dramepicness 05

[Kho]

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http://muslimmatters.muslimmatters.n...bin-Ziyad1.jpg
http://mikkeller.dk/wp-content/uploa.../10/viking.jpg
http://dailylifeofagamer.files.wordp...war-rome-2.jpg
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http://www.miguelcoimbra.com/images/...omans/Mars.jpg