ARGH MATEYS! I t'was makin. battle mage dude. well you know what that means. double magic rainbows.

> ARGH MATEYS! > > I t'was makin. battle mage dude. > well you know what that means. > > > double magic rainbows. Ha, sounds like fun. Hey, guys a family member of mine has recently passed away. I'm going to be trying to get ready for the funeral, but I'll have the IC up by Tuesday. If you guys want to go over your characters and tweak them a little that's fine by me.

I'm sorry to hear that.

> I'm sorry to hear that. It's fine, no one lives forever.

Name- Tudolf Rumgear Race- Dwarf Male/Female-Male Appearance- He is five foot one which is quite tall for a dwarf and has dirty blonde hair with streaks of grey that is very much charred at its ends. He has a magnificent beard that is largely unkept and messy also with charred endings. His skin is a fair bit more tanned then the average dwarf and has dull blue eyes in the middle of his mundane face. As for his armour, he has two different gauntlets, one of his design but another dwarf' handy work while the other appears to be a fairly old elven design from quite a few generations past. His main chest plate is riddled with obvious weld marks that show how the Orcish and human armour were tediously welded together to form something that looked like you'd see ignored or Mr.Hyde wearing with it cut straight down the middle and such. As for boots, they are both human in make but many broken down bits have been fixed up with Dwarven bits and pieces. Underneath it all he wears a purple, tattered, torn and scorched necromancer's robe that somehow managed to survive the beating it's precious owner took. His armour doesn't have a helmet per say but does have armouring in the lining of the hood to block bladed hits but things with more blunt force can still get through. Backstory- Once a drunk nobody Tudolf became a drunk somebody when he discovered his passion of the arcane arts and experimentation with black powder. Before becoming the force to be trifled with that he is today Tudolf Rumgear was raised with an average, Dwarven upbringing amount his people. Tudolf wasn't much of a skilled arms man and while he possessed quite a bit of knowledge in fist fighting and other more scholarly subjects he never had enough drive to be able to make a living out of it. Of course since the dwarfs knowledge was of no use to himself he had to 'settle' for working the mines which in itself wasn't a bad thing but was just boring in general for him. Tudolf continued with his minding and usually spent the rest of his free time trying to drink away his problems at the local pub in his underground home. One day while drinking his sorrows away a great tremor erupted throughout the city, it's origin was a local and not extremely experience necromancer that had amassed a huge army of undead dwarves and other beings to do his bidding. Though the local guardians of the town tried to keep the creatures at bay they eventually began to fall. This all took place a hour or so after the initial shudder while Tudolf was still inside the bar drinking what could be his last mug of ale, completely oblivious to the dangers that were unfolding. Finally things got worse and the constant strain of the battle caused a cave in on the small city burning many parts of the city but also trapping the necromancer and a majority of his undead army. Tudolf was even still inside the bar, passed out and asleep on the very side of the rubble that the necromancer was on which wasn't good since his only experience with fighting was hand to hand and he doubted anyone else would be doing the same. Two weeks later most people had tried to secure the rubble in order to make sure that the necromancer could not escape but after a mishap with some of the construction workers a very heavy support fell straight through the rubble and into the other side. While the guards prepared for a fight they were instead met with a half drunk dwarf wearing an amalgam of different armours and wielding nothing but his fists and magic. No one is quite sure what went down in there (not even Tudolf is quite sure) but Tudolf had found his calling, fighting off enemies with the might of his sword, the magic of his mind and the power of whatever had been poured into his last cup. Tudolf didn't stick around the city very long afterward and simply stayed as he was getting a blacksmith to forge him a strange looking gauntlet that no one was quite sure about wether it was purely for defence or wether it had a bit more 'kick' to it so to speak. Now he's on his way to join up with the band of mercenaries known as the black band, that is if he isn't killed first. Skills- -Experienced Hand to hand combatant I.E being able to throw down with people twice his size although some demons seem to be issues. -Tudolf has good aim, he can't hit a worm out of an apple that's hanging on a tree a mile away but he might be able to hit pretty close to the tree with anything from a spell to his gauntlet (see equipment) -Naturally Tudolf can hold his liquor well and can usually tell if there's something 'funky' in his drink such as poison or a potion although he is very unlikely to be able to tell what it is in the drink. (If needed)Magic/magical abilities- Tudolf possesses a wide array of magically abilities although a great majority if them are either useless or just utility. I will name out a few offensive, defensive and utility spells that are of particular interest: Growth: able to make himself just about the size of an Orc for a small bit of time (two minutes at Max) Zap: able to fire off bolts of electricity from arms or palms. Also able to conduct it through metals. Flame: able to manipulate fire but not actually create any. Also his control over this is more difficult as flames like to flicker and such. Light: he can summon a small glob of light that will float above his hand for however long he holds his hand out. Arcane bolt: a short blast of raw magical energy that is very unstable which means it will quickly disparate when it moves to far away from the caster but it is also very fast. Water to wine: he's able to quickly turn normal water into a variety of alcoholic beverages. He is very skilled with this spell. Equipment- -poorly put together armour that has bits and pieces of very different cultures and races to thank for the parts. It basically a welded together mess that's mostly been able to stay together thanks to the magic inputed into it. -Gauntlet that fires short range stones or pebbles at high velocity thanks to black powder. It is set off by the snapping of the fingers on the particular gauntlet. (If needed)Extra items- -A steel and wooden mug that has his initials scratched in it which he also commonly uses as a weapon to accent his unarmed combat. Other: I will wear the black band my fine bean!

> the drunken dwarf above me Welcome to the Band

Avelia has found her drinking partner ha ha.

Ha, I smell bets taking place

Something tells me this is gonna be a grrrreat! Rp.

> Something tells me this is gonna be a grrrreat! Rp. I hope so, I look forward to RPing with you guys also what do you guys think of Dothren's backstory

I'm ready when everyone else is.

I like it. Rock we will have to come up with some dwarvern drinking games.

Heck yeah we will Color!

Hey, this rp looks hype, I'll be working on a CS sometime soon, it'll hopefully a brawler of some sort, just need to get the OK for the idea I'm trying to do. EDIT: just read the due date for CS's, I hope I can still join haha

> Jalbertio Sweet Also guys, I plan on having a few NPCs for use to toss around along with a handful of ones that are "supposed" to be OP like us. Update on the whole starting thing. By later tonight I will have a post up giving the actual ranks within the Black Band. By at least tomorrow at noon I will have the IC up. _This has been a public disservice announcement brought to you by Lord Commander Amelian Draco._

(QUICK CS, WILL ADD MORE LATER) CS Name- Talto Bruneer Race- Human Age: 14 Male/Female- Male Appearance- Talto stands 4'9", and weighs 95 lbs He is most commonly seen wearing a baggy white tank top, and loose fitting green cargo shorts, paired with martial arts slippers. His hair is kept neatly shaven, and is yet to grow facial hair. Prior to the augmentation Talto had brown hair, and dark brown eyes, but after the augmentation, the magic has changed his hair to a very dark grey, and his eyes to a azure blue. Has a large burn mark running down his back. Backstory- Raised as a orphan in the Imperial City of Avalad, Talto was keen on thieving, conning, and stealing to survive. One night while sleeping, Talto, and many other children in Avalad were abducted by some force unknown, it was then that they were taken to a military training camp far deep in the North. While he was captive, they were forced to undergo augmentation of a kind, perhaps even magical. Only Talto and a few children survived this change, and those that did were trained rigorously through day and night with almost no rest. It would seem as though fate did not want to see that these to exist, and during a night in which the children were tired, and the instructors were asleep, a mighty dragon came through and incinerated the camp. Some of the children tried to fight, but they too were killed, and while they tried to fight, Talto could only flee. He ran for days, not stopping for breath, food, or water, and while he did, he could only see the sight of his friends getting slaughtered by the dragon, eventually Talto collapsed from pure exhaustion. When Talto woke up, he was surrounded by men in armor, and when he opened his eyes, he fixated on a figure with his hand outstretched towards Talto, and the figure only said one thing. "So, will you put on the black band?" Talto stared at the man with eyes that were not broken, but were roaring with passion, and anger, and he grabbed his hand "I will wear the band." Skills- Talto is very well versed in the arts of war, and knows how to use a multitude of weapons efficiently, however he does prefer fighting with his fists, and his skill with his fists is great enough to be able to stand toe to toe with the Black Band's strongest brawler's. Talto fights dirty, and uses tactics that would be deemed "dishonorable". Talto knows basic survival training. Talto is very athletic, and can run for almost impossible amounts of time. Able to pick locks, and fool people decently Magic/magical abilities- Magically enhanced body, giving him strength and agility far past his years, and even giving him a strong resistance to other magics. While not formally trained in magic, it would seem that Talto has a natural affinity for lightning. Equipment- Basic clothing, combat knife, and a pair of gloves designed for a battlefield. Other - Talto is still a child, and will still think and act like one. In case of seeing anything traumatic, Talto will flee. Talto has a deep hatred for anything draconic, but is terrified of a actual Dragon.

> Once a drunk nobody Tudolf became a drunk somebody Completely lost my shit, can't wait to see this character.

Syrah 42, the Riftsplitter. Human, Cambion Male  Backstory: Syrah, or rather “42” as he was referred by before he adopted the name, was one of the 66 magi bred into the world. As men breed dogs for function in the fields or hunt, so too did they breed mages for their magical abilities. By careful pedigree, magical bloodlines tracing for centuries back would flow down from each generation, each father passing on the powers of great magi past. Amongst his 66 half-brothers, 42 was bred for supreme magical affinity, the magical blood of seventeen generations of magi ran in his veins as he was conceived among the masses of surrogate by the intermediary incubus. Of the 100 children born that night: his half-sisters were sent away to become oracles and enchanters in Orindon, while he and his half-brothers were whisked to become sorcerers and wizards in Avalad. They never told any of the boys their relation to each other, as they studied the mystic arts and gleaned an arcane education. Like an esoteric boarding school, each student was raised steeping in the magical arts, coaxing them to demonstrate their abilities as they advanced through their years. By their 16th year, each would be tested and then placed into their respective areas of advanced studies. Or such was the plan for never did a boy frustrate their instructors as much as 42. 42 was inept at destructive magics, incapable of illusionary arts, barely capable of summoning and hardly fitting as necromancer. While the others found their particular niche and specialty, his magical blood was deemed wasted. On the day of their 16th birthdays, during the grand exam, he had failed to impress the council and perhaps even his unknown father who may have sat amongst them. As such, he was decreed to be unfit to contribute to the next generation of magi, as he had been unable to display the magnificent arcane powers within his veins as his other siblings had. That night 42 went to sleep as a failure, and the morning after, 42 awoke a eunuch. But by that same afternoon he escaped. Tearing a rift through the warded walls and guarded corridors, 42 unleashed his sorcerery throughout the cosmos as space bended and warped before him. Fueled by desire and despair, his bloodline was finally unlocked as his veins glowed hues of stellar blues and radiated their untapped potential through his body vessel. He tunneled though the other side, and saw it: a world beyond the books he knew. The market was alive, filled with people and obscure objects. Strange visions of the city as voiceless merchants shouted their wares and buyers haggled over prices. This was magical, another realm beyond those he had learned of. By the time the alarms were activated, 42 had seen enough and walked into the first portal he had created. Unfortunately, being the first portal he had created, 42 had created one high above the market tents where it went unnoticed for minutes, until stepped through to fall upon a merchant’s stall completely ruining his inventory of wine as the barrels broke his fall. While the merchant was furious at his loss by this rapscallion, dressed in his academic robes, 42 was not like any other street tramp which had occasionally attempted to ruin him. Maybe he was a wizard’s apprentice, and those wizards had money to go around wearing their fancy robes and reading their fancy books right? “What is your name, boy?” “Forty-two sir.” “Do you take me for a fool, boy? That is no name for a streetrat who ruined my stock of Syrah!” Taking him by the collar, the merchant intended to have the tramp’s master pay for the lost stock. Yet, what neither of them knew was this was merely the beginning of the partnership. Years later, 42, or Syrah as he goes by now, works for the new Merchant-King of Avalad. The old merchant gained an asset, and the boy gained a father figure. It was quite convenient to have a sorcerer wrapt around one’s fingers, especially one who could open a portal from one city to the next. Far-flung goods from around the lands were secured within minutes as portals to various cities were opened for shipments, allowing the Merchant-King to control stock and inventory at a ease without worry of troublesome bandits, time or tolls. With his portal mage, business was good, but when a group of mercenaries arrived seeking the assistance of portal mage, business was better. A service charge of 3% per job, of which 1.5% would be paid in advance, and a flat fee of 1% applied on top of the 3% to cover his mage’s own expenses and finally a 2.5% deposit for the safe return of his mage in “good condition.” These were the terms laid out to the mercenaries, which were accepted. “Syrah my boy, go make your old man some money so I can retire.” “So it appears, Father: I shall go, and I will wear the black band.” Skills- Keenly trained logistics, and learned in the arcane arts. Resourceful in creating novel uses for magics and versed in theoretical spellcraft. A linguist by travel of trade, fluent in just about any common trade language, including reading and writing the more esoteric scripts which he often uses to inscribe his spellbooks to privy his thoughts from the less learned. Magic/magical abilities- Portal Magic: While lacking in perhaps more conventional magic, Syrah tears asunder wormholes through space within moments. Lesser magisters could scarcely dream of forgoing the incantations and reagents needed to create a portal with a scant wave of a hand or snap of their fingers let alone direct the spatial tunnel as quickly as he may burrow them. Thus, with an unparalleled ability to quickly cast and create dimensional distortions, Syrah is quite the mobile spellcaster. The limit to his portal magic of course is determined largely by the distance between the two points of travel, as such, while local dimensional rendering may be instantaneous, creating fairly stabilize portals between cities may take a minute. The second caution when dealing with portal magics is the duality of the portal, which allows travel in both directions as long as they remain stable. Another caution to note is, in the event an object traveling through the dimensions should find itself caught within a destabilizing portal, such an object would either be sliced between the planes, or crushed between them depending on the length of collapsing precipice tubule and the position of the object. The creation of a more permanent portal is possible however, but doing so would require a physical anchor which counteracts the physical spatial collapse and an energy source to maintain the portal breached. Equipment- An enchanted spellbook which serves as a spell focus, also useful for hitting people on the head with in case of need for physical combat. Other:

> The Gray Dust and Jalbertio welcome to the band you two. I'm going to start working on the IC, sorry for taking so long guys.

Amelian I'm gonna assume, we're all just starting of as fresh recruits.