Protest the Wish [OOC]

[Dlayeth]

Read the OOC.

Now for the IC.

I either need sleep, or I need an energy drink. Hm... or I can power through it. Meh, we'll see. Maybe I won't get a QWERTY face.

[Sarpedon]

Actually, Tancred has about three emotions. He has "I HATE YOU!!!" "GO FUCK YOURSELF!!!" and "calm"

- - - Updated - - -

and occasionally he combines the first two

[HyperRyan66]

Ah I was about to say...the first two seem to be in similar taste...

EDIT: It is finally time!!!! O_O

- - - Updated - - -

ENJOY MY NOVELLA OF A BACKGROUND MUHAHAHAHA


Name:
Airius Caine…to some he was known as: The Left Hand of Zarus

Race:
Human

Gender:
Male

Age:
Airius is currently 326 years old but maintains the physical age of his 32 year old self

Appearance:
A mix between Letho of Gulet (the kingslayer from the witcher 2)

And Tychus Findlay from StarCraft


Background:
Airius was raised in the desert city of Talmoria by a group of priests and nuns within their abbey. He was schooled and fed like any other orphan under the care of the religious folks; however, Airius was bred to serve a higher purpose than that of a regular citizen. When Arius reached the age of 7 he began his training as a killing machine. An order of assassins who killed in the name of Zarus began to remove the child from his regular studies and employ him to tests and training that would solidify his position as their strongest project. The priests of the abbey, while also followers of Zarus, would clearly not approve of such instruction for a child of their institution and so his training was passed off as an apprenticeship in blacksmithing.

This façade of becoming a blacksmith required Airius to actually participate in the craft and provided the boy with a set of skills required to live as a normal citizen. Once Airius had reached manhood he was sent off by the loving hands of the abbey to join the city as a valuable citizen. While Airius’ brothers and sisters left for the workforces of their individual talents…he did the same...and ventured to the headquarters of Zarus’ Assassins. Once there, Airius was welcomed with the same type loving arms that had just released him from the abbey. Despite what one would think of such an upbringing, Airius was truly loved by those who had taught him and he shared a strong bond with the other members.

And with that Airius began his life as a killer in the name of the righteous god of humanity: Zarus. While maintaining a double life as the cities greatest blacksmith, Airius was forced to complete all his missions at night once the bazaar had closed. Airius was given regular tasks at first: killing a rival priest here... ending an elven cult there…but over a short period of time the 18 year old mans skills truly came to fruition. Airius became what the order had molded him from such a young age to become: God’s Left Hand…the hand representative of Gods necessary evils.

Airius was sent to distant lands with orders of killing religious leaders of other religions and races all in the name of Zarus, the one true god. However, over time with more rigorous tasks finished, the assignments given to Airius became more mundane. Along with the lessening of difficulty came an increase in the number of targets. Airius was being sent on missions requiring him to slaughter villages and at times cities of the opposing nature. His hand, once only spilling the blood of the most highly valued targets, was now being used to paint the streets with the blood of the unarmed, women, and children.

As Airius defeated those opposing his religion, his nation grew in size. The order that had once trained him now rested at Thetus deep within the mountains of his countries ever expanding territory. Once Zarus’ power had enveloped the majority of the surrounding lands, new problems began to arise. Now witnessed as a large force of the world Zarus acquired enemies of a new caliber. To compensate for the new threats more children were being taken off to Har’teth in preparation for the secretive slaughter that would soon be needed behind the deceiving veil of politics and war.

Amidst this change came the turning point in Airius’ life that would shape him into the father and husband that he is remembered as. Airius, now 28 years of age (10 years passed since him leaving the orphanage) received urgent news that the order at Thetus had fallen under attack. Airius immediately left home in a fury with the emotional images of those who held dearest to him being assaulted without protection. After a full day of travel Airius reached the Assassins’ headquarters and was met with a burning heap of rubble.

Airius stumbled silently into the wreckage that was once the home of his closet friends and family. Burnt and beaten corpses littered the scorched stone and wood that previously stood as an institute formed for the creation of killers. As the sick irony of the situation dawned on Airius he fell to his knees and wept for those he had lost. Once he had gathered himself, Arius stood up to make his way out of the forsaken wreckage when a piece of parchment caught his eye. Curious, Airius sulked over to the piece of paper held into a lone wooden post by a knife.

It read:
Dear “Left Hand”,

Here lies the vengeance of the lives of all those your ‘work’ has effected. Your past decade of destruction has been a successful one for your country, has it not? The word Zarus now strikes fear in the heart of more than just native tribes worshiping idols, his name is now recognized throughout the world itself as the God of humankind. You started by killing important figures, which, although a gruesome act, is a result of nations with opposing religions. However, your actions quickly elevated to the assassination of beings for the sole reason that they worn born of different blood. You murdered them, not for what they believed in, but because they were born into a different lineage than yourself. Your actions became more than unforgivable; they became deserving of an equally horrible reaction. Alas our scattered nations could never amass enough power to kill any number of human leaders. There was not enough reason to do so…but then…you gave us one. You gave all of us a motive you twisted piece of shit. As your country rose to power your opponents stopped their progress, leaving you with a lack of targets. So they turned your murdering hand into a scythe of slaughter…you, the tool, were sent to reap the fields of our people. Your treacherous massacre founds its way into our villages and towns ripping everything from us. While the capable men were out fighting to protect, you ended the life of every defenseless being in the cover of night. Your actions deprived us from everything. First you took our religion, then our monarchy, and lastly…the family we held dearest. For these actions there had to be a reaction…every man woman and child in this area has been put to death in your name. As they were tortured and cooked they were continuously reminded that their valiant “Left Hand” had brought this hellish end of days upon them. They say that an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind. Well ‘Left Hand’ I will give every limb and organ I posses to make sure that you never feel the love or warmth of another being for as long as you live…

May your life be filled with misery,
The mass of Widowers and Childless Fathers that your destructive reign has created


As Airius finished reading that parchment before him his eyes dropped off the last word and continued to the floor. As he stared downcast at his feet the weight of his actions dawned on him. His past actions lie scattered before him manifested in the corpses of everyone that has ever given him meaning…

The band of reckless killers was captured soon after destroying the order and each member was put to death. They died quietly without a word…each one looking Airius in the eyes prior to his head dropping onto the cold hard ground. Although the rebels had been killed…the realization had already drilled deep into Airius’ thoughts. His life was not the glorious path he had once thought it to be…Airius now understood the true nature of his ‘righteous’ tasks that he had carried out in the name of his God. Were the deaths of thousands truly worth pleasing one God? At that moment Airius made up his mind. The happiness of one being, even if that being was god, was not worthy of so much bloodshed.

Airius cast off his holy armament and left his country upon exile as a traitor for refusing to work any longer as Zarus’ tool of destruction. Although Airius knew nothing he did would ever atone for his actions, the only way for him to maintain his sanity would be to service every being equally for the rest of his life. With that thought being his driving force Airius went north as far as his feet would take him. He was taken in by caring arms more times than he could remember and each night he wept for he knew that he deserved not the kindness these strangers showed him. To many he was the butcher of their priests, kings, and relatives and although they did not know this it weighed heavily on the young mans mind.

The following is an excerpt from the CS of Naunix Xeduun:
[Eventually he made it to the one truly established town in the northern territories and settled in as a blacksmith. While there he eventually fell in love with an elven woman who would come from the deep mountains to trade goods within the frozen metropolis. After impregnating her with the unlucky half-breed that was to be their son Naunix, he set out for the Zael Desert in search of the riches he wanted to support his struggling life and family.]

Although his wife and child were sure of his death, they were mistaken. To them he was a simple father attempting to earn riches to support his family. However, to the unfortunate participants of the Zael Desert competition he was once again…The Left Hand of Zarus…

Within a matter of days Airius had effectively dispatched every opposing person within the ancient city. Despite his lack of combat over the previous 4 years his skill had not rusted in the slightest. While he was in a position of killing every individual in the contest, Airius had not forgotten what he once was and he did not wish to return to that state of mind. Each soul that fell to the might of Airius died quickly and with as little pain as possible. Airius did not with the brutality of slaughter on any opponent and ended each life with much remorse.

At the end of the contest Airius stepped quietly up to the creators of this deadly game and was granted his wish…the thing he desired most. While Airius believed his humanly greed would lead to unsurpassed riches…his heart reacted differently. Airius was granted the inability to age, deep within his soul and mind Airius truly wanted nothing more than to be with his family until the end of their days. Alas the strain of the anti-aging process drove Airius into madness. He suffered a terrible form of amnesia leaving him with no memories other than those he had gathered in the arena of death.

Now a slave to his own mind the champion of Aelhurst he resides within the ancient city his only company being the lost souls of those who have lost their lives in search of the ‘wish’ and a small gem-like feline that watches over the arena for her masters.


Personality:
Even from a young age Airius was the pinnacle of a good learner. He wanted nothing more than to succeed in any given task and to make his masters and teachers proud. It was this mentality that made him the perfect subject for the Assassin Order’s new project. As a young adult Airius continued to express this outlook on life through his seemly perfect completion of missions and his equally flawless creation of weapons in his smithy. While on a mission Airius’ personality seemed nonexistent as if he had left it behind in his home while he was away. This lack of emotion made it simple for Airius to carry out the task of slaughter without a counteractive thought in his head. However, once the blood had been spilled and Airius returned home he was back to his cheerful self. In the city he was honored for his work as a smith and his alternate/true self was admired as the “Left Hand of God” and the silent protector of the people. Through his actions he kept his countrymen safe and allowed for the advancement of his people.

After the incident at the order Airius’ personality was barely affected. He continued to maintain pride in his works BUT he no longer separated his emotions from his work and was able to realize the truth behind his life as a whole. The sudden clarity that lead Airius away from his life of slaying humbled Airius overall. Although he still managed to be proud of his works as a smith he never allowed himself to receive gratitude because deep within he knew he deserved noting but to have his life ripped away from him.

Occupation:

Religious Assassin/Warrior
-An assassin who serves Zarus is different than the silent killers of other nations. Zarus' teaching make it clear that while the enemy is still your target, it is better to fight and kill honorably than to slaughtered those who do not know of the threat at hand. For this reason the weapons chosen by Airius were quite unconventional and nearly useless for an attempt at a silent assassination. Airius carried out his contracts with a bravery that would easily shame the assassin of any other country. When assaulting his marked man Airius would step out into the targets view and begin to arm himself in front of the unlucky individual. By not strapping on his gauntlet before he stood directly before his target, Airius gave each person enough time to ready themselves for their upcoming battle and imminent death. While most assassins lose respect for each kill they bring in, due to their sneaky nature, Airius was honored for each life claimed because each success was a victory in a duel to the death.

Blacksmith

Power/Weapon:
Airius does not use any magic but before his birth his soul was imbued with a powerful force that would allow him to surpass the strength and speed of a normal human. Although he was given this ability to unlock its power he would have had to train for well over the basic human life-span…this small detail was unknown to those who embedded the power within Airius. Since his time in the ancient city the only sane thing Airius has managed to do is train…because of this unique position of ageless training Airius has been able to unlock the power within him and achieve a state of inhuman strength. Alas the instability of his mind and lack of purpose for his power has rendered it useless…for now.

Airius’ weapons of choice are quite unique and still have yet to be used by an assassin to date. On his right arm Airius wore a specially crafted gauntlet that possessed edges as sharp blades across its frame. As a child Airius’ favorite form of exercise was boxing and through that skill he developed his own fist into valuable tool capable of liquidating countless lives.

Airius only wore one gauntlet for only one was ever made and attempts at recreating the design have never suited its wielder as well as it did Airius. As not to make his left hand useless in a fight Airius trained in specific use of a sword called a Khopesh. The blade of this weapon relates to both an axe and a sword and can be used in various ways from hacking to slashing.

Airius was famously known for having possession of a precious metal that was said to have been handed down by a god in the form of a falling star. This metal that he had acquired was only used to form three weapons in all of history. The remaining ingots are said to have disappeared but their true resting place is with the people of the Xeduun clan. Two of the blades crafted from this metal were the sister-swords Airius created for his unborn son Naunix…the third and first to be created was Airius’ personal blade.

The handle and sword are fashioned the same as any other Khopesh but the blade holds a reminder for Airius of what he once was. On the blade of the Khopesh across the curved portion there is an engraved statement that was carved using the only thing strong enough to scratch the metal: a diamond. The etching reads: “God instructed that we cast death down upon those unlike ourselves. For that, I turn my back on God himself”

This is a Khopesh:
[/QUOTE]




Weakness:
His past being laid before him causing him to question if he deserves to even take his next breath

His current mental state

Dislikes/Fears:
He fears falling back into what he once was and he dislikes anything in relation to his old life.

Wish:
he thought it was riches for his family…but instead he truly desired to live with them and in that received immunity to age.

Other:
Centuries after the destruction of Thetus and the Assassin’s order the area was cleared out and the remaining instructors moved to the most well-guarded territory in all of Zarus' lands: Har'teth . The monastery of Har'teth took in the instructors from the ancient order and over time those who preached Zarus' word and those who fought in his name became one. The monastery continued to teach Zarus' law, but soon began to train it's inhabitants to fight for the glory of their lord. The monastery of Har'teth now serves as training grounds for the knights that serve the purpose Airius once single-handedly maintained. Children who come the closest to Airius in his adolescence are raised here as warriors to serve for Zarus. These chosen soldiers carry out deeds pertaining to the extinguishing of the other races, cults, and demonic activity whose evil attempts to seep into the soil Zarus' lands. To date the most feared and respected of these Knights is Tancred Santoro the Witch Slayer and Cleric of Kord and The Almighty: Zarus


(I hope you don’t mind my use of your idea’s Sarpedon… I just thought it fit brilliantly with what 0ubliz and me were trying to achieve with Naunix’s father. I liked your ideas of the religious prowess and goals of Zarus’ followers. If you do not approve of my use of your ideas I will re-write this CS)

[0ubliz]

I might have to pull out of this RP. There's a reason why I don't go on RPG that much, and it doesn't look like I can change that.

I'll try and come up with a post, but no promises.

I wasn't aware of your dislike for RPG. My bad. ^^
Good luck posting~

In the meantime...enjoy this sadness I have just finished creating!

http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs71/i/20...ix-d5mpng0.jpg

That is incredibly sad... But I like it. :3

Name: Aradeth Laenaren

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Age: 27

Appearance: Aradeth has golden-blonde hair which is cropped close to her skull. Her eyes are grass green. She has very little excess fat on her and is built athletically. Her expression is impassive and makes her appear somewhat intimidating. She is battle scarred, though usually the clothes she wears covers the scars. When she isn’t in her armor, she’s usually in a long-sleeved, high-necked dark color tunic and trousers.

Background: In the early years of her life, her country was at war, and had been for a long time. Caejas had been harrying their borders, and many young people traveled to the capital to join the army. Desae, Aradeth’s country, did its best to prevent war to no avail. The ongoing war was punctuated by a series of uneasy truces.

Aradeth was born in a border town during one of those short times of peace. Her town, Aldbush, had somehow remained untouched and apart from all the fighting. Unfortunately, that fragile peace was not to last. As the war drew closer to the border town, those with the means packed what they could and left. Aradeth’s father sold all of the belongings they could spare, and with it, bought a small cart and traveling supplies. They packed what they could, and sought refuge with their relatives. Better safe than sorry, they thought. They never made it that far.

They were set upon by bandits, who had been driven across the border by Caejas’ army. Aradeth’s father was killed, their belongings were taken, and she and her mother and younger brother were taken. The bandits hoped that the women and children would work as hostages, should they encounter Desae’s army or town militias. It didn’t hurt that Aradeth’s mother was still young and not unattractive. That she had children was not a bad thing either. Why should one try to forcibly bed a screaming struggling woman, when one could have a willing, submissive one instead? A mother’s love was a beautiful thing.

In the end, it was not war, nor armies, nor militias that ultimately destroyed the bandits. It was disease. Aradeth’s mother, weakened by the physical, emotional, and mental strain from her “services” was one of the first to succumb. As more of the bandits sickened, weakened, and died, they desperately moved for the nearest town that was liable to possess a healer. They intended to forcibly obtain a healer. Unfortunately for them, the town had its own guard that had well-trained, able-bodied, healthy men in it.

The town guard pursued the bandits who survived the skirmish and eventually found their camp. There was another brief fight, and Aradeth and the other children were found and rescued. Aradeth, by some miracle, or perhaps by her mother religiously telling her what would happen when the bandits were gone, knew the name of her mother’s sister, and the village in which she lived. A message was sent and the wait began. Eventually, Aradeth’s mother’s sister, Aunt Lyran, arrived and took Aradeth and her brother back to her farm.

When Aradeth turned sixteen, she left to join the army. In training, she turned out to be a natural fighter and picked up the drills quickly. When they put her to archery, she turned out to be an amazing shot once she got the hang of using a bow. When her training was done and she was sent out to battle, she was put in the back with the archers. Her archery skills were worth more than her sword skills, but that didn’t mean she let her sword skills go to waste.

During the war she met and befriended quite a few mercenaries. After the war and her stint in the army, she used recommendations from them to get into a good mercenary company, Warrum’s Wolves. They were a relatively well-known mercenary company, and were in good standing with the mercenary guild. She was in Warrum’s Wolves for a good six years when the countries finally settled down and there was peace and the mercenaries fell into some hard times.

Mercenaries enjoyed peace as much as the next guy, especially after a long hard season of fighting, but a peace that looked like it would last was bad for them. Mercenaries thrived on war. Peace didn’t pay their wages or keep them fed. They ended up accepting a contract that they normally wouldn’t have. They had never heard of their client, but he paid well, and there didn’t seem to be any reason not to. His name was Dynroth Lianash. That was the last contract Warrum’s Wolves would ever accept.

Dynroth Lianash was a cruel, vicious, ruthless man. Civilians were not spared. If they sided with Earl Erindale Dynah. He controlled with terror. If there was any resistance, then those who resisted were to be put to the sword. When the Wolves didn’t kill every man woman or child and burn the town to the ground, he sent his own men in to finish the job. The watching Wolves were reminded that there were things that were worse than death. They had done the people of the town no favors. In fact, it would probably have been a mercy to have just killed them instead of leaving them to Dynroth’s men.

The Wolves were honorbound and oathbound to obey their client. They had signed the contract and if they broke the contract, no one would hire them. Mercenaries who turned upon their employer would never be fully trusted by their potential employers. It didn’t take long for them to detest their employer. They hated fighting for him, but they all lived by the mercenary code.

When their contracted term was nearly over, and talks of renewing the contract were to begin, the Wolves were relieved. Soon they would be free of this man. Perhaps they could even switch sides in this war. Warrum made it clear to Dynroth that they would not be renewing the contract. They were sent out on a job. They were to capture another town. It wasn’t supposed to be anything that difficult. Unfortunately, they were ambushed. The ambush was perfect though, too perfect. Everything was set so neatly, as if their plans had been known in its entirety. Few, if any, of Warrum’s Wolves escaped alive.

The actions of the ambushers were too ruthless to be the enemy earl’s men and the numbers were overwhelming. It was as if they were ordered not to let a single Wolf escape alive. They were nearly completely successful at that. Those who were taken alive were as good as dead. Death would have been a kindness.

Personality: Aradeth is an experienced mercenary. She is practical. She follows the mercenary’s code and her own brand of honor. Aradeth is cold and keeps her distance. She is wary of others, perhaps enough to be considered paranoid. She is flexible and will listen to other ideas. She is normally a rational woman.

Occupation: Former member of a mercenary company called Warrum’s Wolves which was last contracted to Dynroth Lianash.

Power:
Fetching – the ability to make small items go where she wants them, or make them move to where she wants them to move with the power of her mind. Essentially she can manipulate objects without touching them. Her fetching gift isn’t strong enough to move people or large objects. She’s limited by size, weight, and distance of object. If she cannot see exactly what it is and where it is, she cannot move it. With practice, her fetching ability with her archery takes less concentration and is almost natural to her. It is what made her so good with bow and arrow.

Weapon:

• Bow
• Boot knife
• belt knife
• hidden knife on her back
• A pair of knives in special sheaths that can be worn around the arm under the sleeves of a long-sleeved tunic. They have special releases that hold them secure until needed. They can be thrown.
• Sword and a buckler made out of a very light material, but very strong and durable.
• Six throwing knives.

Weakness: Fetching only works by line of sight, always keep things between yourself and her arrows. Attack from behind if you can. She only has a limited amount of arrows. Once her arrows are broken or damaged, she can no longer use her bow for the longest ranges. Either that, or break her bow if you can. Jump her when she has drawn her bow and is aiming at someone or something. She won't be able to draw her weapons or shields fast enough.

Get up close and batter her as much as possible. Wear her out, and deliver the final blow. Batter her shield and numb her arm or dislocate her shoulder so she will be clumsier with it and block slower. Snipe the sniper. Go after her two against one or three against one or whatever if you have good team work. Pierce through the gaps in her armor to hurt her. If someone had a mace, send it crashing down on her skull. Catch her by off guard and kill her before she can draw her weapon if you can.

As a member or a mercenary company, she has been trained more in group tactics than single combat. Another thing is, she is a women, and her physical strength won’t necessarily be as great as a man who has trained as much as her. She must make up for that with skill and speed. Break some bones, break some ribs so you can get in a good finishing stroke.

Dislikes/Fears: Her past. It haunts her. Darkness, for when she closes her eyes she sees their faces, their eyes, their corpses. Silence, because in it, she hears their screams and curses. She fears her dreams, nightmares, and memories because so long as she breathes, she will never escape them.

Wish: She isn’t sure what she will wish for. She has two ideas in her head, and figures that if she makes it through this; she’ll choose one of them depending on how it goes. Some of the times, she wishes to begin anew, with her memory of what’s happened to her wiped away and knowledge of skills intact.

The rest of the time, she wishes to know the thoughts of the ghosts who haunt her. She wants to know who exactly, must be made to pay for their actions in more than just blood.

Beautiful CS, Dlay! Finally another lady~ Aradeth seems well-balanced and stuff, so she is good to go. I'll add this CS in soon.
Im looking forward to your IC post.

Name:
Airius Caine…to some he was known as: The Left Hand of Zarus

Race:
Human

Gender:
Male

Age:
Airius is currently 326 years old but maintains the physical age of his 32 year old self

Appearance:
A mix between Letho of Gulet (the kingslayer from the witcher 2)

And Tychus Findlay from StarCraft


Background:
Airius was raised in the desert city of Talmoria by a group of priests and nuns within their abbey. He was schooled and fed like any other orphan under the care of the religious folks; however, Airius was bred to serve a higher purpose than that of a regular citizen. When Arius reached the age of 7 he began his training as a killing machine. An order of assassins who killed in the name of Zarus began to remove the child from his regular studies and employ him to tests and training that would solidify his position as their strongest project. The priests of the abbey, while also followers of Zarus, would clearly not approve of such instruction for a child of their institution and so his training was passed off as an apprenticeship in blacksmithing.

This façade of becoming a blacksmith required Airius to actually participate in the craft and provided the boy with a set of skills required to live as a normal citizen. Once Airius had reached manhood he was sent off by the loving hands of the abbey to join the city as a valuable citizen. While Airius’ brothers and sisters left for the workforces of their individual talents…he did the same...and ventured to the headquarters of Zarus’ Assassins. Once there, Airius was welcomed with the same type loving arms that had just released him from the abbey. Despite what one would think of such an upbringing, Airius was truly loved by those who had taught him and he shared a strong bond with the other members.

And with that Airius began his life as a killer in the name of the righteous god of humanity: Zarus. While maintaining a double life as the cities greatest blacksmith, Airius was forced to complete all his missions at night once the bazaar had closed. Airius was given regular tasks at first: killing a rival priest here... ending an elven cult there…but over a short period of time the 18 year old mans skills truly came to fruition. Airius became what the order had molded him from such a young age to become: God’s Left Hand…the hand representative of Gods necessary evils.

Airius was sent to distant lands with orders of killing religious leaders of other religions and races all in the name of Zarus, the one true god. However, over time with more rigorous tasks finished, the assignments given to Airius became more mundane. Along with the lessening of difficulty came an increase in the number of targets. Airius was being sent on missions requiring him to slaughter villages and at times cities of the opposing nature. His hand, once only spilling the blood of the most highly valued targets, was now being used to paint the streets with the blood of the unarmed, women, and children.

As Airius defeated those opposing his religion, his nation grew in size. The order that had once trained him now rested at Har'teth deep within the mountains of his countries ever expanding territory. Once Zarus’ power had enveloped the majority of the surrounding lands, new problems began to arise. Now witnessed as a large force of the world Zarus acquired enemies of a new caliber. To compensate for the new threats more children were being taken off to Har’teth in preparation for the secretive slaughter that would soon be needed behind the deceiving veil of politics and war.

Amidst this change came the turning point in Airius’ life that would shape him into the father and husband that he is remembered as. Airius, now 28 years of age (10 years passed since him leaving the orphanage) received urgent news that the order at Har’teth had fallen under attack. Airius immediately left home in a fury with the emotional images of those who held dearest to him being assaulted without protection. After a full day of travel Airius reached the Assassins’ headquarters and was met with a burning heap of rubble.

Airius stumbled silently into the wreckage that was once the home of his closet friends and family. Burnt and beaten corpses littered the scorched stone and wood that previously stood as an institute formed for the creation of killers. As the sick irony of the situation dawned on Airius he fell to his knees and wept for those he had lost. Once he had gathered himself, Arius stood up to make his way out of the forsaken wreckage when a piece of parchment caught his eye. Curious, Airius sulked over to the piece of paper held into a lone wooden post by a knife.

It read:
Dear “Left Hand”,

Here lies the vengeance of the lives of all those your ‘work’ has effected. Your past decade of destruction has been a successful one for your country, has it not? The word Zarus now strikes fear in the heart of more than just native tribes worshiping idols, his name is now recognized throughout the world itself as the God of humankind. You started by killing important figures, which, although a gruesome act, is a result of nations with opposing religions. However, your actions quickly elevated to the assassination of beings for the sole reason that they worn born of different blood. You murdered them, not for what they believed in, but because they were born into a different lineage than yourself. Your actions became more than unforgivable; they became deserving of an equally horrible reaction. Alas our scattered nations could never amass enough power to kill any number of human leaders. There was not enough reason to do so…but then…you gave us one. You gave all of us a motive you twisted piece of shit. As your country rose to power your opponents stopped their progress, leaving you with a lack of targets. So they turned your murdering hand into a scythe of slaughter…you, the tool, were sent to reap the fields of our people. Your treacherous massacre founds its way into our villages and towns ripping everything from us. While the capable men were out fighting to protect, you ended the life of every defenseless being in the cover of night. Your actions deprived us from everything. First you took our religion, then our monarchy, and lastly…the family we held dearest. For these actions there had to be a reaction…every man woman and child in this area has been put to death in your name. As they were tortured and cooked they were continuously reminded that their valiant “Left Hand” had brought this hellish end of days upon them. They say that an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind. Well ‘Left Hand’ I will give every limb and organ I posses to make sure that you never feel the love or warmth of another being for as long as you live…

May your life be filled with misery,
The mass of Widowers and Childless Fathers that your destructive reign has created


As Airius finished reading that parchment before him his eyes dropped off the last word and continued to the floor. As he stared downcast at his feet the weight of his actions dawned on him. His past actions lie scattered before him manifested in the corpses of everyone that has ever given him meaning…

The band of reckless killers was captured soon after destroying the order and each member was put to death. They died quietly without a word…each one looking Airius in the eyes prior to his head dropping onto the cold hard ground. Although the rebels had been killed…the realization had already drilled deep into Airius’ thoughts. His life was not the glorious path he had once thought it to be…Airius now understood the true nature of his ‘righteous’ tasks that he had carried out in the name of his God. Were the deaths of thousands truly worth pleasing one God? At that moment Airius made up his mind. The happiness of one being, even if that being was god, was not worthy of so much bloodshed.

Airius cast off his holy armament and left his country upon exile as a traitor for refusing to work any longer as Zarus’ tool of destruction. Although Airius knew nothing he did would ever atone for his actions, the only way for him to maintain his sanity would be to service every being equally for the rest of his life. With that thought being his driving force Airius went north as far as his feet would take him. He was taken in by caring arms more times than he could remember and each night he wept for he knew that he deserved not the kindness these strangers showed him. To many he was the butcher of their priests, kings, and relatives and although they did not know this it weighed heavily on the young mans mind.

The following is an excerpt from the CS of Naunix Xeduun:
[Eventually he made it to the one truly established town in the northern territories and settled in as a blacksmith. While there he eventually fell in love with an elven woman who would come from the deep mountains to trade goods within the frozen metropolis. After impregnating her with the unlucky half-breed that was to be their son Naunix, he set out for the Zael Desert in search of the riches he wanted to support his struggling life and family.]

Although his wife and child were sure of his death, they were mistaken. To them he was a simple father attempting to earn riches to support his family. However, to the unfortunate participants of the Zael Desert competition he was once again…The Left Hand of Zarus…

Within a matter of days Airius had effectively dispatched every opposing person within the ancient city. Despite his lack of combat over the previous 4 years his skill had not rusted in the slightest. While he was in a position of killing every individual in the contest, Airius had not forgotten what he once was and he did not wish to return to that state of mind. Each soul that fell to the might of Airius died quickly and with as little pain as possible. Airius did not with the brutality of slaughter on any opponent and ended each life with much remorse.

At the end of the contest Airius stepped quietly up to the creators of this deadly game and was granted his wish…the thing he desired most. While Airius believed his humanly greed would lead to unsurpassed riches…his heart reacted differently. Airius was granted the inability to age, deep within his soul and mind Airius truly wanted nothing more than to be with his family until the end of their days. Alas the strain of the anti-aging process drove Airius into madness. He suffered a terrible form of amnesia leaving him with no memories other than those he had gathered in the arena of death.

Now a slave to his own mind the champion of Aelhurst he resides within the ancient city his only company being the lost souls of those who have lost their lives in search of the ‘wish’ and a small gem-like feline that watches over the arena for her masters.


Personality:
Even from a young age Airius was the pinnacle of a good learner. He wanted nothing more than to succeed in any given task and to make his masters and teachers proud. It was this mentality that made him the perfect subject for the Assassin Order’s new project. As a young adult Airius continued to express this outlook on life through his seemly perfect completion of missions and his equally flawless creation of weapons in his smithy. While on a mission Airius’ personality seemed nonexistent as if he had left it behind in his home while he was away. This lack of emotion made it simple for Airius to carry out the task of slaughter without a counteractive thought in his head. However, once the blood had been spilt and Airius returned home he was back to his cheerful self. In the city he was honored for his work as a smith and his alternate/true self was admired as the “Left Hand of God” and the silent protector of the people. Through his actions he kept his countrymen safe and allowed for the advancement of his people.

After the incident at the order Airius’ personality was barely affected. He continued to maintain pride in his works BUT he no longer separated his emotions from his work and was able to realize the truth behind his life as a whole. The sudden clarity that lead Airius away from his life of slaying humbled Airius overall. Although he still managed to be proud of his works as a smith he never allowed himself to receive gratitude because deep within he knew he deserved noting but to have his life ripped away from him.

Occupation:
Religious Assassin/Warrior
Blacksmith

Power/Weapon:
Airius does not use any magic but before his birth his soul was imbued with a powerful force that would allow him to surpass the strength and speed of a normal human. Although he was given this ability to unlock its power he would have had to train for well over the basic human life-span…this small detail was unknown to those who embedded the power within Airius. Since his time in the ancient city the only sane thing Airius has managed to do is train…because of this unique position of ageless training Airius has been able to unlock the power within him and achieve a state of inhuman strength. Alas the instability of his mind and lack of purpose for his power has rendered it useless…for now.

Airius’ weapons of choice are quite unique and still have yet to be used by an assassin to date. On his right arm Airius wore a specially crafted gauntlet that possessed edges as sharp blades across its frame. As a child Airius’ favorite form of exercise was boxing and through that skill he developed his own fist into valuable tool capable of liquidating countless lives.

Airius only wore one gauntlet for only one was ever made and attempts at recreating the design have never suited its wielder as well as it did Airius. As not to make his left hand useless in a fight Airius trained in specific use of a sword called a Khopesh. The blade of this weapon relates to both an axe and a sword and can be used in various ways from hacking to slashing.

Airius was famously known for having possession of a precious metal that was said to have been handed down by a god in the form of a falling star. This metal that he had acquired was only used to form three weapons in all of history. The remaining ingots are said to have disappeared but their true resting place is with the people of the Xeduun clan. Two of the blades crafted from this metal were the sister-swords Airius created for his unborn son Naunix…the third and first to be created was Airius’ personal blade.

The handle and sword are fashioned the same as any other Khopesh but the blade holds a reminder for Airius of what he once was. On the blade of the Khopesh across the curved portion there is an engraved statement that was carved using the only thing strong enough to scratch the metal: a diamond. The etching reads: “God instructed that we cast death down upon those unlike ourselves. For that, I turn my back on God himself”

This is a Khopesh:



Weakness:
His past being laid before him causing him to question if he deserves to even take his next breath

His current mental state

Dislikes/Fears:
He fears falling back into what he once was and he dislikes anything in relation to his old life.

Wish:
he thought it was riches for his family…but instead he truly desired to live with them and in that received immunity to age.

Other:
Centuries after the destruction of Har'teth and the Assassin’s order the area was cleared out and a new monastery built atop the ancient ruins. The monastery now serves as training grounds for the knights that serve the purpose Airius once single-handedly maintained. Children who come the closest to Airius in his adolescence are raised here as warriors to serve for Zarus. These chosen soldiers carry out deeds pertaining to the extinguishing of the cults and groups of other races. To date the most feared and respected of these Knights is Tancred Santoro the Witch Slayer and Cleric of Kord and The Almighty: Zarus

(I hope you don’t mind my use of your idea’s Sarpedon… I just thought it fit brilliantly with what 0ubliz and me were trying to achieve with Naunix’s father. I liked your ideas of the religious prowess and goals of Zarus’ followers. If you do not approve of my use of your ideas I will re-write this CS)

Ill add this in the first post ASAP. ^^

[Dlayeth]

Ugh... I must read... CS...

[Sarpedon]

there are a few things that need changing if you're following my version of Zarus, pm me and we can discuss it. otherwise, if you're using the real zarus, you'll want to revise your info according to that instead...

[Dlayeth]

CS read. Task completed. Dlayeth is shutting down.

[Zephyr116]

Holy fuck in a fuckbasket!!! Long-ass CS.

I would post now, but I JUST got done setting up reloading equipment.

[Sarpedon]

whatcha reloading?

[HyperRyan66]

You finish the read yet Sarpedon?