IC is up!
WE ARE ACCEPTING. IF YOU ASK, YOU HAVEN'T READ THIS, AND I WILL BE MOST DISAPPOINTED WITH YOU.
Sit down and let me give you a history of our great land of Gulfinon (Gulf-fin-on). Our great land's history began over two thousand years ago, with the rise of the Empire of Vashnir, or The Empire for short. Beginning in the small city of Vashnir, the might of The Empire began to spread as the needs of it's people grew. As soon as the Empire gained more land, the people and rulers would hunger for more, until eventually the Vashnir banner, of a Yurthan (a two headed pure white bear whose shoulder reaches 13 feet. Their bulk masks their speed.) on a black background roaring it's victory to the sky, it's jaws and teeth stained red, hung over all the land. North to south, east to west, the Vashnirians ruled over all. And their people were content, and set to managing the massive empire they had earned themselves through the way of the bloody sword.
And for a thousand years, they ruled the land, their people prosperous while the ones they conquered and subjugated suffered in poverty. Oh, there was an uprising here and there, but what could a few rebels do against the might of the Empire? And hit and run tactics did not work as the Vashnirian Legions would simply burn down the forests or trap the rebels in the mountains. What was one forest when they had hundreds? What was one Legion(A legion is made up of 800 men) bogged down when they had thousands? The Vashnirians were arrogant, but they were secure enough in their power to do so.
That's when the Beacon made it's first appearance. In the center of the land, a great white orb that was bright, yet not blinding, hot, yet not burning, appeared upon the top of a mountain. The Vashnirians call it a gift from their three Gods. The Minotunians (My-no-tun) call it a magical artifact, activated through some unknown means. The Ganirians (Ga-nur) think it apart of the land of Gulfinon, easily explained by their science. Regardless, they all recognize it's power. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.
For weeks, none approached it, fearing it. Then, the Vashnirians were the first to approach it. Their wise men studied it, worked with it, and tried to figure out it's purpose. For years they worked, constantly being frustrated by the orb of some unknown metal that shown with an inner light. They could not crack the metal, it bent their swords and shattered their chisels. The wise men discovered it's power quite by accident. One of them was laying a hand against the Beacon, saying aloud about how he wished he had some of his mothers home made roast. With a flash, it was there, staring him full in the face.
Thus, the wise men began to experiment more and more with the Beacon, reporting their findings to the current Emperor of Vashnir. Eventually, word of the Beacons fantastical power reached across the land. But, the Vashnirian Emperor was prudent. He had the Beacon under constant guard by no less than five Legions. But among those legions was a man, whose name is lost to time. He was twisted in the mind, and enjoyed causing pain and suffering to others. So it was that he stole up to the Beacon in the middle of the night, slew the wise men, placed his hand on the glowing white orb, and wished the world violently and irrevocably changed.
That is how the great Change came about. Our world was torn asunder with much thunder, lightning, earth shaking, and assorted other disasters. The man was slain in the process. By the end of the Change, our world was shrunk to the land it is now. A simple circle, surrounded by water that hides the ruins of our once grand and varied land. But the world was not done changing.
In the chaos, the five Legions guarding the Beacon were scattered. In the aftermath, one of the subjugated took his opportunity. His name was Zan, the first of the Sorcerers. He scrambled, bleeding and battered, up the mountain to the Beacon. The ground was strewn with blood, ash, and corpses. The Beacon was unmarred by recent events. Zan placed a hand on the Beacon, and wished for a way for his people to free themselves from the grip of the Empire, and to separate them from it. With a great crack the land that once belonged to Zan's people was separated from the Vashnir empire by great, impassable, mountains.
Zan fell to the earth, screaming. He felt his body changing. He soon lost consciousness. When he awoke, he was in the former capital of his people, the town of Minotun. All around him, his people were doing fantastical things. Flames from their palms, summoning winds, and other magical things.Zan felt himself grinning, and summoned all to him that he could to explain what he had done.
Thus began the Kingdom of Minotun, or the Kingdom for short. The Kingdom of Mages. Ruled by the Sorcerers. They advanced and progressed far faster than the Empire had, boosted by their magic. While they did this, the Beacon was touched by many other hands. Few actually utilized the Beacon's power, murdered before they could. Those that did though, usually utilized it's power for selfish and largely evil reasons. Cities were demolished, families wiped out, Emperors and Kings slain. This continued for centuries, until a young man by the name of Bran made his way up the Mountain of Blood, as it had been named. He was a young knight in the Empire, who slew and fought his way up the Mountain.
When he reached the Beacon, bloodied, bruised and dealt a mortal wound by his last opponent, he placed his hand on the great white orb, and wished it unable to be utilized by the people in this world. With a great white flash, the Beacon was gone. Bran died upon that Mountain, cold, alone, with his life blood pouring upon the ground, and with a smile upon his face. He was known as Bran the Banisher ever after. Some in this world today curse him. Others praise him.
But the Beacon is not so easily foiled.
Three hundred years passed, the Empire regained it's hold on the land, and the Kingdom built up it's resources in preparation of war. Then the Beacon returned. Armies were mobilized immediately, and set out for the Mountain of Blood. Soon, the armies of the Kingdom and the Empire met in battle. It was a slaughter. The mages slew the Empire's Legions by the thousands. The Mountain of Blood was soon bathed in it's namesake. In the chaos of the slaughter, a young woman made her way through the chaos. She slipped her way through the battle, and to the top of the Mountain. She was quick and lithe, but not that quick. She received several wounds. She crawled towards the Beacon, blood splattering against her battered body as the mages slaughtered the routed Legions, and she placed a hand on it. She wished for her own people to be enlightened with the knowledge to defeat both the Kingdom and the Empire, and to be defended similarly.
With a crack her own people's land was defended by great, steel walls. And she felt her mind enlightened with strange knowledge, and she passed out from blood loss. When she awoke, she was in the capital city of her people, Ganir, and all around her people were glancing around in wonder at their new found knowledge. And she stood, and told her people of what she had done. Thus she became the first Queen of the Dominion of Ganir. The Dominion of Scientists. Ruled by the Queens. When the day ended, the Beacon disappeared. Neither the mages nor the Empire had touched it. One because it was too busy slaughtering the other. The other because it was being routed.
Her name was Zenia.
Three hundred more years passed, with the Empire reeling from it's defeat, thus unable to attack the fledgling Dominion, the Kingdom to busy expanding it's powers, and having no desire to invade the Empire. The Dominion advanced and progressed far faster than the other nations, due to their new knowledge. Everyone began preparing when the three hundred years ,since the Beacon's return and the creation of the Dominion, began to tick down. Armies were raised, forces gathered, resources pooled. When the day finally came, the world awaited with bated breath, staring at the Mountain of Blood. With a flash, the Beacon returned. The armies immediately began scaling the Mountain, racing to the top. The Empire was routed again, and it came down to battle between the Dominion and the Kingdom.
The battle waged for most of the day, hundreds dying on either side. Finally, one lowly, dying soldier of the Dominion dragged himself to the Beacon. As his spirit fled him, the man placed his hand upon the orb, and wished the barriers that divided the land of Gulfinon. With a great rumbling and shattering sound, the walls and mountains fell.
That sound marked the beginning of the Empire's Dark Age.
As the day was brought to an end, the Beacon disappeared, and the Armies retreated. The Empire prepared for war. Three hundred year wait started again. The three hundred years of slaughter and butchery for the Vashnirians began. The Dominion of Ganir and the Kingdom of Minotun invaded the Empire. And it was powerless before their might. The only thing that saved the Empire of Vashnir from being conquered and divided, was the fact that the two nations invading fought each other as well, slowing their progress into the Empire's lands.
For years they would battle with each other of a piece of land. They paid no attention to the Beacon's arrival. After all, they were busy slaying the hated Empire, and did not want to waste the men to secure it. And besides, they had the Empire trapped, the Beacon heavy in their combined territories, and all Vashnirians enslaved. Thus, they paid no attention to it's arrival, wasted only the minimal amount of men to guard it, and thought of it no more.
Perhaps they should have.
A lone figure stole it's way to the top of the Mountain of Blood. He wasn't a warrior, a mage, or a gunner. He was a thief, and patriotic to the Empire. So, he stole his way up the Mountain, silently killing any and all enemies in his way. When he reached the top, he wasn't as careful as he should have been. A bullet ripped it's way through his gut. Before the forgotten thief died, he slew his killer. He fell to the ground, beneath the Beacon. He reached his hand up, barely touching it, and wished for two things. The first was that his Empire's lands were returned to his people, the Vashnirians, from the invaders. With a flash, this was done. All invaders were back in their lands. The second was that the Vashnirians had some sort of protection against the magic and technology of the Ganirians and the Minotunians.
And then he died.
That was three hundred years ago. The land of Gulfinon has been in eternal war ever since. The Empire using it's new found negating ability to fend off the Minotunians and the Ganirians.
Ah, I see that twinkle in your eye. You've connected the dots haven't you?
Yes, the Beacon will return this year. Soon to.
And when it returns, a mad dash will begin again. The Mountain will drink it's namesake again.
He who touches the Beacon will have a power few have seen, and even fewer have wielded.
The power to change the world.
And who am I? Who am I, who remembers all those years? Who knows the heroes sung and unsung? A good question.
Why, I'm him. The Reaper. The skull and scythe.
There's a special glowing orb that grants one wish to anyone who touches their hand on it. They can have anything they want. Destruction of the world, elimination of a race, destruction of an entire city. There are three nations, one of magic, one of steampunk science, and one of medieval, that negates both. We are going to be playing the members sent by the three nations, or a random wanderer who heard about the Beacons arrival.
Vashnirian: They exude an aura that negates both magic and technology. Bullets stop, spells disappear Though, the stronger and closer the spells/tech the more likely their negation won't work.
Minotunian: Magic. They are the only people whom can use magic.
Ganirian: Technology. They are the only people who can use tech. Anyone else who tries, either has the tech explode or they die. Or both.
The Empire of Vashnir(Vash-near): The Empire is largely plains. They have no mountains, and few, but large, forests. The majority of their population lives in the massive, medieval Gothic style cities. So, when wandering the lands of The Empire, think, Medieval plains setting.
Leader: Emperor John the 5th.
The Kingdom of Minotun: In stark contrast, the Kingdom of Minotun(My-no-tun) has very little area in their land that isn't covered with trees. It is quite literally a forest nation. Their cities are crafted through magic to live in harmony with the woods, rather than to cut them down to make space for them. And, thanks to the extensive use of magic, the colors are strange there. Tree leaves are blue. Water is green. And so on so forth.
Leader: Sorcerer Zankill the 1st
The Dominion of Ganir: In even starker contrast, the Dominion of Ganir(Ga-nur) has nothing natural in it's lands. The entire nation is one massive Steampunk city. Steam hovers over the land like cloud cover, always perpetual, never leaving. It is a land of science and innovation. It is also the land where nature comes to die.
Leader: Queen Marion the 2nd
The Empire of Vashnir: The Empire has three gods they worship.
Vas, the God of War: Vas is the God the Empire's soldiers pray to before combat. According to Vashnirian lore, Vas was a mighty warrior of the Empire, slaying all those who opposed him, even during the Dark age. But the vile mages cast their spells on him, and warped his form. Turning him into the beast of war he is now. Then, they slew him. But instead of dying, Vas ascended to godhood.
Bahn, the God of Vengeance: Bahn is the God the Vashnirian's pray to when they seek Vengeance for any wrongs done to them. Usually against Minotunian or Ganirians. According to Vashnirian lore, Bahn was a simple farmer before the Dark age. Then, the Dominion forces reached his farm hold and butchered his family and left him for dead. But Bahn was fueled by vengeance, and survived. Thus, the simple farmer became the vessel of vengeance. He donned the soldiers garb and hunted down those who wronged his family. He found them, and killed them one by one, before he died of his wounds and ascended.
Mariet, the Goddess of Purity: Mariet was the original Goddess. She watched over the Vashnirians and gave them hope when they were at their darkest, kept them pure. She is the most beloved of the Three, and is prayed to when Vashnirians are about to blacken their souls.
Kingdom of Minotun: The mages in the Kingdom do not worship any godly beings. Rather, they worship the Beacon, as the pinnacle of magical achievement.
The Dominion of Ganir: The Dominion does not worship anything. They put faith in their science and their technology.
I'm giving you guys largely free reign when it comes to the local flora. But, here's some examples so you know what is going to be in the three lands.
The Empire: Nothing fantastical here. Just your usual Fauna. Though there is some unusually large Venus fly traps known for eating people...
The Kingdom: It'll definitely be a different color than usual, and probably have magical attributes. For example, the leaves of the trees have some electricity properties.
The Dominion: No Fauna. What so ever. One giant steampunk city.
I'm giving you guys largely free reign when it comes to animals. But, here's some examples so you know what is going to be in the three lands.
The Empire: The Yurthan is a good example. It is a very large, pure white, two headed bear. So, when choosing an animal from the Empire, keep in mind natural, but slightly changed.
The Kingdom: Magical beings galore! Griffins, Drakes, etc. Anything magical, and you're good.
The Dominion: Most animals would either be robotic in some way, or adapted to their habitat. For example, the S-rat. It's an electric blue rat the size of a terrier. It has only one eye, and survives on Steam.
Templars: Not what you might think at first. These men and women aren't heavily armored super soldiers. Rather, they've been taught to increase their negation aura to unbelievable levels. But, they give up martial prowess for this ability. They're your thieves, assassins, and what have you. They were light leather armor and generally prefer to fight at a distance. The only way to be guaranteed of killing these people is to stab them with something untouched by magic or technology. Good old fashioned steel.
Battle Reavers: These heavily armored soldiers are the opposite of Templars. Rather than increase their negation aura, they decrease it. They turn their negation aura into energy and strength, allowing them to move around in their heavy armor with surprising quickness. They are the most feared of the Empire's soldiers. The saying goes, A Reaver without a weapon is like a bird without wings.
Casters: These soldiers are the closest thing the Empire comes to magic. They have mastered the art of projecting their negation aura to others, to devastating affect against mages and Dominion forces. But, they have no combat abilities what so ever. All their training has been in casting their negation aura to others. It can be used offensively as well as defensively. Spears of negation shattering Auras and ending spells, and shutting down arms and armor, etc. Casters can even block mundane weapons if they concentrate enough. To devastating effects energy wise, but they can none the less.
Elementalists: Your run of the mill mages. They summon the elements and use them with devastating results. The elements are as follows. Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Light, Dark. They are the simplest of the Kingdoms forces, but are the most dangerous of ranged warriors.
Summoners: These men and women are not what you think. Rather than summoning creatures from the spirit realm to aid them in battle, the summon creature into themselves. These warriors don't use weapons or armor. Rather, when they summon a spirit into themselves, they change. They still remain humanoid, but their senses are sharper, they have claws or wings, they're stronger and faster, and so on so forth. But, they have to be careful. Summon to powerful of a spirit, and they lose all control over their bodies, their souls consumed by the spirit. They become Revenants, extremely powerful demons who have possessed Summoners(The only known ways to kill a Revenant are, decapitation, destroying the heart, and, strangely enough, severing off an arm and a leg). They are the most dangerous of the soldiers of the Kingdom to the Empire, as their body protects the spirit from the negation aura.
Aura Warrior: Like Summoners, these men and women go into battle without weapons. But for a different reason. These mage's magic is their Aura. They can bring into being an Aura and shape it how they wish. Nothing like becoming gargantuan killing machines, but armor, shields, and weapons yes. The Aura's come in many different shapes and from from hard and made to absorb damage to lithe and made for speed. But they don't just stop there. They can manipulate Aura puppets, multiple ones, in support roles. Increase their strength, speed, reflexes, etc. (For the sake of balance modern Aura warriors can only go up to say...Olympian athlete levels) imbue their weapons and armor to increase strength or damage, etc.
Gunners: While they are the most common troop you will see in the Dominion army, medium armor and guns, they are also the hit and run experts of the Dominions army. They wear light leather armor that is augmented by steampunk technology, and carry various things for stealth. They are sent in to eliminate targets and get out. They are shadows. Ghosts.
Innovators: These are the inventors of the army. It is rare to see them without some sort of prototype. They are geniuses. And generally madder than the mad hatter. And have no combat skills what so ever. And their prototypes are indeed PROTOTYPES. So, they won't be working 85% of the time.
Tanks: These are soldiers who have the heaviest steampunk armor. They are specifically designed to trade blows with Reavers and Summoners. They have the heaviest armor, and weapons to go with it. Nothing like death machines, but repeating wrist guns, swords, etc. They are physically trained from a young age to be able to carry their armor fairly well, since technology tends to fail around Empire soldiers. Thus, their strength levels near that of superhuman. Think of them as steampunk Halo Spartans. Only less terrifyingly superhuman.
Please, please, please do so! Summoner Aura mixture? Go ahead. Aura elementalist? Fine in my book. Tank Innovator. Slightly terrifying. Though if you want to go off the rails and essentially create your own class, that's good as well. Just keep it similar to wherever your character was born, as that decides their natural abilities. Note: I'd rather if you did combine classes that you kept it to only two, and one is more a buff than anything else..
1. All guild rules apply.
2. I may think of more rules as they pertain to the RP
3. One good paragraph required posting.
Equipment(For those of you going the path of the Dominion, no death machines or rocket launchers. Or anything similar to them. You get up to three weapons, shields included, and your armor/clothing.):
Personality(optional. Personally, I hate the things):
Who do you serve?(The Empire? The Kingdom? The Dominion? Or yourself?):
Name: Conrad Harbinger
Armor/Clothing: Cloth Tunic and pants, leather armor as pictured
Personality: You'll see.
Who do you serve?: Self serving, empire born.
Conrad fails as both a caster and a reaver, being incapable of stretching or pulling in his aura as required for either cases. Instead of surrounding him in an 'aura' as the name entails, Conrad's aura is held directly next to his skin, and oddly enough, anything touching it that is not alive. His attempted training as both a caster and a reaver have left him with the ability to concentrate his aura within objects he is touching, leaving himself as devoid of the negating aura as a Ganirian... (Regularaly Conrad's aura is not much stronger than your average Vashnirian's, it just does not emit itself as such.) So an object larger in size than he himself would weaken the aura, eventually to being useless. Realizing this, Conrad put it to use in a different manner, on objects smaller than himself. The obvious separation between various objects that could be gifted temporarily with the aura is the difference between its effect on weapons and.... well most everything else.
Weaponry: In this case, it tends to almost always be Conrad's sword.
Weapons imbued with Conrad's aura gain the ability to dispel magics that come into contact with the sword, almost always dispelling the spell in its entirety, due to the high concentration of aura in the blade at the time. The weapon becomes sharper, and feels lighter to Conrad, though it retains its original weight. It also gains a greater durability, though this seldom is tested.... it isn't everyday you face an opponent that can savage a sword without use of magic or technology. On the note for technology, the weapon suspends mechanical objects while they are in contact with it, freezing the mechanisms for the duration of the physical contact. For obvious reasons however, Conrad rarely tries to fight Ganirians. It is pretty hard to block bullets with a sword. Let it be noted however that the moment he releases contact with the imbued weapon, Conrad's aura returns to him and leaves the weapon devoid of any aura.
"Most Everything Else": In this case, it is probably his cloak if anything... it was listed as weaponry for a reason.
The discrimination between these items and weapons is just that weapons tend to be sharp and/or made of metals or other hard substances. This area includes softer materials like cloth and armor. These materials gain a greater durability, as well as the negating properties at levels similar to the sword. Besides this, it there isn't much benefit. The reason Conrad does this is that when he is... say... wrapped in his cloak and being bombarded with spells/bullets, he can imbue it with his aura, being... mostly safe from harm... assuming a dragon... volley of arrows... or an actual weapon isn't bearing down on him.
In other words:
-Lighter weight (To Conrad's perspective.)
-Strong dispelling/mechanical disruption capabilities
-Increased sharpness (Not surpassing an extremely sharp knifes sharpness however.)
Well, being pretty reclusive, those that know most about him are his parents and those in the Empire's army. Things that are 'commonly' known however is that when he was born Conrad's aura was nowhere to be seen. So he was ridiculed by others his age and older for a long period of time until it was discovered that his aura resided inside of him, in a concentrated state. Then slather on a good helping of more ridicule after he failed as a caster and then a reaver. Finalizing with his 'death' on the battle field as a common footman who was turned into a crater by a fireball. (Which actually didn't hurt him, thanks to his cloak. Conrad just decided to leave on his own after this event, leading to the assumption of his death.)
Name: Rylan Avner
Appearance: (still need to find a good picture) he is blond, blue eyes and fair skin. He is looks quite scruffy. He wears colourful clothes that match his environment. His clothes are wornd down, travelling robes.
Equipment(For those of you going the path of the Dominion, no death machines or rocket launchers. Or anything similar to them. You get up to three weapons, shields included, and your armor/clothing.): Rylan has some basic leather armour, a sword and a staff, though he is not very skilled with them.
Personality(optional. Personally, I hate the things):
Who do you serve?(The Empire? The Kingdom? The Dominion? Or yourself?): He is from the kingdom, but was exiled and now serves himself.
Class: Summoner (modified)
Biography(optional): Rylan trained as a summoner in the kingdom. He was one of the top in his class (or training group). When it came to the final test before becoming a twelf-year (their equivalent of a matric or grade twelve) something went wrong. He did not become a Revenant, yet he ended up turning fully into the creature he summoned. At first his teachers were impressed, but a few days later he suddenly started shifting in class, he could not control it. Over the next few weeks it turned out that he could shift when he wanted, but somehow his power sometimes activated when he didn't want it to. After accidentally turning into a Phoenix and burning half the library down he was exiled from the Kingdom, for his unpredictable power was too dangerous.
Nowadays: He just wanders around, surviving in the wilderness of the kingdom, occasionally he just shifts…no control of it, though he can shift when he wants he has enough of it from it just randomly. People he meets in the wilderness never stay around long, because who wouldn't get freaked out if the person you are talking to just randomly turns into some magical creature.
What he would wish for: All three nations would be at peace with each other and work together for the greater good. There would be peace in general(He mainly wants this because he wants to be accepted others. He wants to live amongst other humans in peace, without being exiled for something he has no control over.)
Name: Sarah Colt, previously known as Elisa Woods and also known as The Doll Master
Equipment: Iron glove with small orifices for various strings as well as blades on the fingers (See picture above), A wooden box with a collection of 10 different small sized dolls, A box with a collection of tiny weapons such as crossbows, swords, lances, shields, etc... Apart from these "weapons", she also as a flute.
Personality: Sarah is a tactician, always thinking three steps ahead of the game, but extremelly suspicious of who's arround her. She has trouble trusting people and will normally attempt to stay alone with her dolls. Despite all this, she has an extreme sense of justice, and will always try to help those in need.
Who do you serve?: Freelancer
Class: Aura Puppeteer (This class is all about controlling various objects from a distance using the aura as the strings. The strings don't need to be attached to the objects however, so they can also be used as a weapon. They can still use some abilities of an Aura warrior, such as strengthening the objects they are controlling. When they control their objects, it's as if the objects gained a life of their own, but a constant aura line is needed to maintain this
Biography(optional): Sarah, previouslly Elisa Woods, was born in the Kingdom, and it wouldn't take long for people to realize that her magical abilities were better than average. She had all to be a powerful Aura Warrior, but instead, she decided to create dolls for the little girls of the Kingdom. Still, she was pressure and pressured, and pressured to be an Aura Warrior, so she decided to cut all bonds with the Kingdom and start somewhere new with a new name. And that's how Sarah Colt was born. One day, while doing some repairing on one of her dolls after a busy day performing with them and her flute, she noticed a robbery and used her dolls to stop the burglar in place. That's how the Doll Master was born. Puppeteer by day, Crime Fighter by night.
Name - Meridia
Age - Unknown
Gender - Female
Equipment - Elegant pink dress, pink crystal tiara, pink crystal slippers, magic pink crystal staff, magic pink crystal wand, magic amulet of healing, 200 gold coins, a smile
Who do you serve? - Herself
Class - Elementalist
Name: Morgan Bloodvayne (real last name: Strife)
Gender: Female (disguised as a Male)
Unlike the picture, her hair has grown only to reaching just an inch or two past the shoulder and she been about to cut it before receiving the Emperor’s letter to meet a group at the Mountain’s base. Usually wearing her helmet until out of battle. It still gives the impression of a young man with feminine features if her helmet happens to get knocked off.
Cross bow, simple and one shot at a time, each arrow taking time to reload. (Quiver amount: 20)
A Bastard Sword, plain and basic. Leather binding about the handle, wrapping about several times, giving her great grip and mounted at the end with the head of the Empire’s symbolic animal. Perfectly balanced from tip to hilt, the craft master knew what he was doing when it was made.
Covered in full plate armor, Morgan looks more like man made of metal then any woman. The armor is molded to the lithe shape omitting the curves of her female nature yet it doesn’t hinder her in the least, the armor made to easily and quickly snap on without aid of any kind. When not wearing it, several wraps about her upper torso underneath a simple, slightly baggy green brown tunic. A thin crude leather belt rests on her middle and tight leggings, the pant ending in worn travel boots.
A makeshift medic kit, including needle, horse hair/cat gut, knife, and strips of bandages, etc. Also a small handcrafted cross with the symbol for Vas, Bahn and Mariet, carved into the top three ends. This allowing her to pray at anytime to any of the Gods the Empire worships.
Who do you serve: If asked, the Empire but in truth it’s for herself.
Class: Battle Reaver
Born into a noble family thick with male heirs, Morgan is the last and only girl in the Strife’s latest generation. Her mother killed in childbirth and sickness giving her life, her father said her mother’s joy fell from her eyes at not being able to give him one last son before she died. It was little surprise her father saw her with distaste, her childhood living in the shadow of her four brothers and wishing she were like them. Even her bastard brother, Lucien, second oldest and born out of wedlock, was given slightly more flavor only due to his gender. In end, he and the youngest boy, Garret, had taught her the art of battle with a sword from the moment she showed interest. Any skill they learned had been passed along giving her a hope to rise to her father’s approval though her brothers knew it was a false, hollow thing they bestowed upon her.
It was fifteen Morgan’s father had promised her hand to cousin of the Vashnirian Royal family, a man over half her senior. Needless to say, the strong headed girl wouldn’t stand for it and fled on the six hooves of her horse out of their lives. From there she cut her hair and changed her last name to another noble house, Bloodvayne, whose suppose last of the bloodline had since moved on to meet the Gods. The danger of being discovered lessen since they had many unclaimed heirs, mostly bastards that used the name for greater power and kept themselves in the higher ranks. She simply passed herself off as one. Meager beginnings to becoming a novice Battle Reaver but a start never the less. Upon learning that no Bloodvayne born woman had never entered the Empire service, she became a man to farther merit her ruse. It would've highly suspicious if one suddenly broke tradition without proof of birth right and that was attention Morgan didn't want. Forging her new birthright and enlisting in the war, none were the wiser. The penalty for pretending after all is imprisonment, a fate worse than death itself so who would risk it?
In the first battle, the price had nearly been her life as she laid broken and wounded, her armor punctured in several places by Minotunian magic and Ganirian tech alike despite her speed. How long she had crawled in that state Morgan didn’t know until a man, a fallen soldier and deserter, discovered her lying in some forsaken woodlands. It took months to stand and each moment Morgan couldn’t hold a sword, that feeling of failure twisting farther into a depression. Grim specters haunted every waking moment until the man gave his own advice: By all Vas’s Glory, shut the hell up and fight or die. Make the choice, ye idle wretch!
Pretty clear which choice she took.
In matter of a year, 17 then, she would once more enter the battle field. The next two years were important for her young life becoming noted for her combat power and aid upon the field, the name Bloodvayne gathered pride from the mist of war. Her early years ceased to exist, forgotten in her absence and time of war. At heart she is a soldier blessed by medic training and a knack for herbs, she would follow orders without question to ensure the lands of the Empire was safe for all Vashnirian. Summoned to the Mountain by parchment of the Emperor and the fact she had been tending fallen comrade, her needle dropped and forgotten in a blink of an eye.
Now Morgan’s horse tramples a dead head long dash to its black and crumbling figure in hopes she is not too late to descend into the pits of hell. May the War God, Vas, bless her with glory and victory or she will meet him soon enough
Name: William Grimgorn
- Rope. Not much a rogue without some.
- Crowbar. Omnitool of the dark ages.
- War-axe. Rapiers just don't cut it.
- Leather armour. Nothing screams “mook” quite like it.
Serves: The Empire
Class: Templar, with a twist.
William wields a negation aura that could very well have gone viral in medieval legend, had this mastery befallen onto a man worth more than two pieces of elderly livestock. Alas, that is a tale for another time. William's negation aura is tremendously powerful and capable of covering much greater ground than your average aura (although spreading it's effect will weaken it.) It's not as much casting the aura onto others as it is expanding it. It can't quite cover an army, just a few men close to him while he remains the center. They step out of the bubble, it's all over. It's far less versatile than a caster's who can support units from a distance (or generally be more than a couple feet away.)
William's myopia will not allow for precise aim with the bow. Instead, he has mastered limited reaver abilities allowing him to travel at the same speed as the troops, while maintaining a negative shield against most forms of attack (which may not put a full stop to all lasers and fireballs like a properly utilised barrier does, but significantly weaken them regardless.) However, his reaver abilities cannot nearly shoulder the same amount of weight as a true reaver, nor has William had sufficient combat training to keep up with a better man's swordsmanship and has aged well past his prime. William can utilise his aura for offensive purposes in short bursts, but doing so will temporarily weaken his negation aura and eat a fair bit of stamina, making this usage a gamble and unfit for extended combat, and leaves allies who depend on his 'shield' more vulnerable to magic and technology for at least three minutes.
Name: Garret Strife
Appearance: Tall, board shouldered, muscled. Shoulder length dirty blonde hair that he normally keeps back in a half braid most of the time to keep it out of his face. He had a handsome face once, but one too many blows to the nose have given him a little hindrance in the looks department. Square jaw, hint of golden stubble and blue eyes.
♦Bastard sword: finely crafted, dark leather on the hilt that's just the slightest bit sweat stained. The blade is in excellent condition, well sharpened and free of rust. The pommel is set with a color changing gem stone.
♦ A few long dangers, better for closer combat. Finely made, but without much fuss to them either.
♦ Plate mail
♦Typical camping/survial things
Who do you serve? The Empire
Class: Battle Reaver
Name: Carter Rethkiul
Appearance: http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs71/f/20...ro-d5gk1kp.jpg : Armored.
Equipment: His massive sword, Beyuf. His Reaver heavy armor. And a cloak given to him by a noble lady.
Personality: Get to know him. I'm sure you will find out. (Yea.....personality.....tch. Mmmm I like your personality. NO GET AWAY FROM ME.)
Who do you serve?: The Empire took him in as a young boy, trained him to become a Reaver.
Biography(optional): He was born to a small farming family within the clutches of the Empire. The couple and their three children lived a relatively happy and stable life, tending to their fields and caring for the newborn. His mother was a kind, loving woman who worked as hard as the rest of the boys. His father was stern and was a hardass to the boys, both past the age of 18. But the guy knew how to celebrate, not giving much in the way of caring if he happened to drink with the boys and his wife. Carter, of course, sat out of these celebrations. Opting instead for shaking his home-made rattler with zeal and happily squealing along with their drunken songs. All of this changed, however, when the Empire trodded upon their fields with their large horses.
They called it a draft. They tried to take the father's boys away from them. So they resisted the draft, which was apparently illegal for them to do. But the Empire's men weren't given much choice when the drunk family, caught in the middle of celebrating another harvest and annoyed and scared by the sudden intrusion of Empire men, began to attack them to defend their home and their little one. Grim-faced, the men had no choice but to slaughter the lot of them, turning their small house into a painting of some red-obsessed madman. The baby, Carter, began to cry. Why were his folks sleeping so still? What was that red everywhere? He never liked that color.
The officer in charge of the bitter order spotted the baby first and decided to take him in as his own. Carter grows up, only remembering that man as his father. Eventually, he was trained to be an educated soldier. A Reaver, to be exact. Able to channel his nullifying energies to augment his own body. A rather amazing individual when armed with his massive greatsword that he forged himself, along with a few of their more 'magical'ly inclined friends.
One day, though, he will learn of his acting father's order.... And he might not be that much of a fan of his 'father' or the Empire itself.
Name: Faeril 'Ironfists' Clono
Appearance:6ft 6in, minus gigantic mini gun.
blue eyes, brown hair, no goatee.
Equipment: For combat: His battle axe and his wrists contain automatic steam repeaters.
Other: Surprisingly, Faeril has a journal that he writes in nightly, whether he is just cataloging the days events or drawing in it, he never fails to use it every night.
Who do you serve?: The Dominion
Biography: The one thing that is well known about Faeril Ironfists is that he went toe-to-toe with a Summoner and a Battle Reaver in a three way fight and won. Of course, this isn't an all that unusual occurrence, giving the state of total war the land is in, but Faeril is the only known person to have done that and survived. Albeit barely. He nearly died while the medics worked on him after the fight, his armor torn, covered in dozens of wounds. Regardless, he was hailed as a hero for his feat, and was given the highest military award in the Dominion. The Iron Fist. He soon went back into the war, at his own insistence. He wasn't made for a life of luxury and relaxation. It didn't suit him. He was recently recalled to the capital of Ganir, by the Queen herself.
Name: John Sanders
Equipment(For those of you going the path of the Dominion, no death machines or rocket launchers. Or anything similar to them. You get up to three weapons, shields included, and your armor/clothing.): A simple dagger, doesn't really defend himself much.
Personality(optional. Personally, I hate the things): Well, pretty much to the point of insanity. Also, extremely smart, babbles on about things no one understands.
Who do you serve?(The Empire? The Kingdom? The Dominion? Or yourself?): Well, technically Dominion. Really, he's just interested in creating things.
Name: Osmund Suoref
Appearance: 6'4 and built like a brick outhouse, bald and with a thick, luxurious black beard.
Customized Tank Armor: Osmund's tank armor is outwardly similar to the Dominion standard with its prominonant boiler, piston powered limbs, and thick armor plates. However, minor modifications can be seen in the arms and helmet. The arms of Osmund's armor are designed go rigid when firing in order to compensate for Meridith's ferocious kickback. His helmet has also been modified with telescopic lenses and night vision in order to better acquire targets. The armor itself is pocked and scarred from years of engagements that Osmund chooses not to cover, preferring to let his armor speak of his status as a veteran.
Wrist-Mounted Automatic Shotguns: Several extra magazines are carried, including both solid slugs and standard scatter rounds. These weapons are powered directly from his armor's boiler.
Meridith: Named after his daughter, Meridith is a massive rifle, nearly as tall as Osmund while armored. Meridith is a marksman's weapon and fires massive .50 cal bullets at the target, generally reducing most of the target's body mass into a fine red mist. Fired by an ordinary person from any position other than a braced, prone position, the weapon would be more likely to injure the user than anyone else. Fortunately, Osmund's armor is reinforced enough to allow for standing shots or even ones fired from the hip in extremely rare cases. The stock is almost entirely covered with kill markings
Basic sack of supplies including food, basic medical items, fuel, and a small knife for whittling and marking kills
Personality: Sod that noise
Who do you serve: Dominion
Class: Modified Tank
Biography: Out of the Dominion Tank Corps, there are few active soldiers whose kill record versus enemy Summoners and Battle Reavers approaches that of Osmund Suoref. Despite his nearly unmatched combat record, Osmund's reputation among the rest of the Dominion Tanks is strained to say the least. Since its generally accepted for Tanks to engage their counterparts in the thick of meele combat or short ranged engagements, the fact that the lion's share of Osmund's kills have come from a single bullet to the head or center mass against often unaware targets at long range leads to the belief that he hasn't earned his kills or lacks the mettle to meet the enemy up close. That of course is entirely false. While Osmund is certainly proficent in hand to hand combat (due to the lack of room to carry a full close quarters weapon), he simply prefers to dispatch his enemies at a distance. After all, why bother nearly getting yourself killed up close where the enemy is strongest when Dominion technology is perfectly capable of reducing a soldier to red mist from afar? Still, the stigma has never left him and he tends to work alone since Gunners don't appreciate his lack of stealth in his armor and his history with other Tanks is already explained. With such a record and years of service under his belt, Osmund could retire quite easily, but to leave a war unfought with him still in the prime of his life is unthinkable. His duty to his country and family both wouldn't allow it.
Name: Xerxes Forestwalker
She also bears a thin, ropy monkey tail which will be explained in the history.
1. Dagger, for cleaning and cutting meat she catches.
2. A necklace with 3 talismans, circular stones, each one holds an animal spirit which she can use at will. They are reusable and re writable, but once rewritten, the previous animal that was on there is lost and its soul released into the afterlife before becoming part of the life circle. So she can only have 3 animal spirits at a time stored, currently become one at a time actively being used. Currently only 2 are filled, a harpy and a turtle.
3. Wooden quarter staff, for walking and knocking the shit out of any creature or foe that seems to want a piece of her. It’s self-made, lightweight and balanced for a amateur made wooden staff.
Charcoal, (endless ink enchanted) feather quill and leather bound book, filled with her art from leaves to animal spanning from different areas in the Kingdom-especially some rare animals. Ask her about how she was able to and the answer is merely a brief: “It’s my little secret and none of your business.”
Light, leather armor built more for wide range of motion that it is almost like she’s not wearing anything at all. Currently what she’s wearing in the picture.
Personality: I refuse… I hate this category.
Who do you serve?:
Kingdom though it’s not because she wants to.
Nothing too fascinating about her life, Xerxes had always had a deep obsession with nature and how it was affected by different elements. Often for hours on end, Xerxes would be found up a tree with her feathered quill and leather bound sketch book, drawing animals and fauna, each new picture letting her head in the clouds until the sun sets. It explain why trouble follows her around a lot as she sometimes forget her common sense, more concerned about getting a better view of the animal then her own safety, so it’s a blessing Xerxes that she now has the tail of a monkey thanks to her first shift going wrong.
She was only a young child, her mother hanging up clothes to dry, when she ended up following a few monkeys deeper into the wooded kingdom of her homeland. Not watching where she was going, the girl was so engrossed that Xerxes failed to realize she wasn’t alone. A large manticore edged in the red leaves of a safern trees that border her home, his pads silent as his teeth bared ready to tear into her. It all took a moment, Xerxes’s eyes caught the sudden movement from the beast’s spring, his claws raised to rip her apart only to find nothing. Confused, his eyes looked about in searching only to have Xerxes’s giggle betray her. High up in the trees, the girl sat with a single monkey tail holding her upon the branch just out of the manticore’s reach. He snarled and raced to the base, claws dug deeply and came too quickly for Xerxes to react. Whack!
In seconds she was down, hitting her head upon the ground and dazed, Xerxes was an easy meal for the approaching creature. Thank her lucky stars her parents heard her scream, not realizing she had, rushed on to the scene just as the monster’s teeth sank into her foot. Ront Forestwalker, an Elementalist of the Kingdom, didn’t take kindly to his only daughter being maimed. Vines wrapped about the beast, squeezing the struggling and panic creature until his body stilled. It was that day after, Xerxes had a monkey tail and a reminder of what careless summoning could cause.
Recently rumors have been spun out of control in the Kingdom, words of traitors and suspicion that her parents were among them. The day they were tossed into jail was one that set her path and for once, questioned her alliance to the Kingdom. It was unexpected and sudden, their names spoken with such disgust that she nearly thought about attacking the guards herself! If it wasn’t for her father saying they would willing go, that was a mistake, Xerxes would’ve never allowed them to be taken from her. Now she’s currently in the court, a large massive tree old as time itself, to prove her family’s loyalty.
Name: Senna Saralian
1. A charm bracelet with about 6 talismans on it, only 4 of which can hold spirits, and only one being able to be re-written, although losing the prior spirit stored. She only has two of them active currently, holding a Leopard and a unicorn.
2. Her bow and arrows (quiver of 25) made out of Dragons horn. Usually used to hunt her meals down, and to keep predators away.
3. A small and sharp knife both for gutting her prey and her predators.
4. The armor in the image.
She has two animal companions.
- A tiny dragon breed (pygmy).
- The white tiger in the image above.
Personality(optional. Personally, I hate the things):
Who do you serve?(The Empire? The Kingdom? The Dominion? Or yourself?):
Wholeheartedly serves the kingdom, but not arrogantly, or blindly, she knows it has faults and works to fix them as best she can.
Class: Elementalist summoner. She only practices basic elemental spells, just enough to keep her alive should the occasion call for it, such as summoning a skin full of water, or bring a fire to life to keep warm on a cold night. She is the strongest at summoning and is often daring at what she summons, taking on bigger prey each time she gets the chance.
She is the daughter of an animal healer and a strong warrior. Her father taught her how to sew an angry dragon back up, while her mother taught her how to cut the dragon back open again. She often found it amusing as a child how her parents had found one another, and even more astounding how they had ever fallen for the other. Despite their constant bickering about how issues should be solved, they often reached a compromise that made them both happy. Thus, because of her parents careers, she was able to learn both the art of healing and war, her fathers patience and her mothers passion meant that in a fight she was even-tempered and cool headed and logical. It was during one such fight with a dog sized dragon that she was able to kill the offending beast quickly and relatively easiy if being scorched somewhat. It was only as she was brushing her armor off that she heard the mewling. She looked around and saw a deep velvet coloured baby dragon crying, for only what she could assume was it's mother. She felt her shoulders slump and she picked up the mewling thing and when she did, it surprised her by purring in content and licking her face. She knew then she couldn't just leave it and took it home with her. Her tiger companion however, wasn't one of her victims, but one of her patients. When she sewed back up a cut it had gained in a dominance fight, it had become her loyal guard dog (ahem, cat) and no matter what she tried to do, she couldn't get rid of it, short of shooting it. Suffice to say, she usually slept well when she was out.
She ended up following in her mothers footsteps and joined in the local government, but not as a warrior, but rather as a scout, spy and messenger often baring important official messages or spying on local tribes as needed.
Fallen is Amazing. Thank her for creating the wonderful new and shiny banners we have.
Also, important Link you should click if you already haven't: http://roleplayerguild.com/showthrea...redator-on-RPG