My Chars!!

Name|
Allie Windred

Race|
Human

Age|
14

Gender|
Female

---

Clothing/Armor|

Allie tends to wear light armor, she feels if; if she were to be in trouble she would not be restricted by some sort of metal piece thus giving her more advantage over those who wear mainly leather or some sort of material that is quite heavy. As shown in the hider; Black cloth surrounds the torso and hips, topped off with a red garbed that goes over the black cloth. ( It may seemed to 'partially' cover the crotch but due to Allie's small size the black cloth actually goes...almost above her knees (like men's shorts) and the red tails on the red garb are knee length.

Weapons|

The staff is a head taller than Allie.

Alignment|
Lawful Good

Skills/Abilities|

• Taming| Allie is passive and has a strong bond between animals. She cares for them, loves them, and doesn't treat them like pets. In Allie's experience she finds it quite easy to tame stray dogs, cats, or any other small animals. Though...she doesn't know about large animals.
• Agility| Her light armor and weapon gives her a great advantage, though her defense is extremely low she can evade with no restrictions.

Magic|
Allie's magic is based on area damage, damaging a mass of opponents is her goal. The spells she cast are connected to runes, though she does not have to tattoo them against her skin nor actually draw them. Her magic actually creates the runes, depending on the spell and her current state of stamina varies the spells casting time. The spells she casts are elemental related; fire, air, water, and wind are examples of the base of her spells. Spells like 'firestorm' or 'blizzard' are self explanatory but if not...her spells are wider than normal, since she focuses on area damage it does take more stamina but if protected by some sort of melee based character Allie can be very powerful. There is a passive side to Allie's magic, area damage is the base of her spells but simple manipulation over the elements like; plant growing, light creating, water generation, and others are passive, thus passive spells tend to take less stamina and take less time to cast.

Backstory|
Waeldeshore, during the war her dad volunteered to join the army. Allie was left alone with her two brothers and a supportive friend. Alone, distraught, and confused...it was a dark time and Allie always wondered what was going on at Silver Lily. She was small and weak and had no knowledge in battling. She had a lump in her heart at the thought of killing another, creating wounds within there soul and leaving there dead bodies there to rot...disgusting it was she honored the man in which fought for everyone's freedom, her father. Allie was a happy soul, her brothers always so caring and yet so childish and her friend Eren...Allie always felt sad when Eren was alone, his family died and always stuck with the Windred family ever since her father took Eren under his wing. Then now...everything fell apart, bandits raided her home, killing, raping, and torturing her brothers and...she just watched it. They tried to protect her, tried...hidden behind a closet door until one of them grabbed her arm and began dragging her. Light, air, water, and the earth itself began crashing down. Runes in which drew them selves beneath young Allie. The light show that looked so magnificent took out the whole bandit group...including her beloved ones. There she fell, onto the house that was no more, not a soul could see nor help Allie's poor soul. She ran away from the remains of her home, ashamed of herself to the point in which she considered suicide. But that wasn't exactly the case; finally Allie regained herself regaining herself...just being lonely. Being out there in the wild exploring, walking away from all signs of others. Allie eventually created herself a boat, mastering her powers at a young age she was basically used to it. Thus she found herself at an island called Silver Lily.

Name: Isabeau Falkenrath
Race: Human
Age: 27
Gender: Female

Appearance: Isabeau has short auburn hair. It is longer in the front, sitting just below her chin. Bangs, neatly parted to the side, hang over her forehead and just barely brush over her eyebrows. Her eyes are something to behold; light green surrounded by a thin ring of gold. Freckles sprinkle lightly over her nose. She stands at about 5’7” tall, a petite upper body sitting upon wider hips and thick thighs. Not overly muscular though her body is tone. When exposed, displayed on her back are a number of scars, some seeming a bit more prominent.

Image courtesy of @Diabolic

Clothing: She typically wears light fabrics, leathers and cloths of darker shades, red being her favorite color. A large cowl normally covers most of her features. Dark brown leather boots extend up just past her knees, straps and buckles secure padding where would be needed. Plain cloth pants are held up by a thick black belt, lined with a few pouches and oddities.

Weapons: Through her training, she has become a jack of all trades. Though her favorite weapon is the battle axe strapped to her back. She has a dagger hidden within her boots and one saddled to her belt at her right hip. The dagger hanging from her belt is a curved dagger, with a ruby embedded within the hilt.

Alignment: chaotic neutral

Skills: Part of the reason why the witches wanted to do away with her because she did not have the affinity for magic as they did. However her time in the Assassin’s Keep allowed her to develop other skills and techniques:
Shadow Prison: Isabeau is able to shadow step to her foe for an attack. During this attack, her foe’s movement speed is drastically reduced temporarily
Wild Blow: Isabeau is able to manipulate the shadows around her weapons, increasing the damage done by her attacks. The attack is usually used when attempting to sunder a shield.
Wildfire: Despite not having the understanding of the weave, as the witches did, Isabeau was bestowed with a gift from her mother. The gift of Wildfire. This gift takes an enormous amount of energy to control and wield. When called upon, the shadows immediately surrounding Isabeau will ignite and deadly flames will surround her as well as coat her axe, adding fire damage to her attacks. This generally leaves Isabeau quite drained afterwards

Magic:N/A -see skills above

Backstory:

Name: Piper Duchamp Pim (Pip, Pimmy)

Race: Half-Dwarf Human.

Age: 22 years young.

Gender: Female

Appearance: Piper has a curly mane of strawberry blonde hair, pinkish skin, bright blue eyes, and softer, rounder features. Short and thickly-built, her limbs are doughy and most of her fat settles in her hips. She's missing a canine and a molar, freckles spot her face, and a layer of grime and salt seems to consistently coat the girl's body and clothing.

Pictures! The topmost image is most reminiscent.

Clothing/Armor: Piper is a peasant, so nicer, cleaner, or newer clothes are rare for the girl. Usually, Piper insists on a pair of boots and trousers with large pockets (each could comfortably fit a pair of brass knuckles. Her shirt is threadbare and barely hangs off her shoulders, most likely originally made for a man. A satchel bag often hangs at her hip, with enough room to hold a baby if need be. Piper's typical dress is in muted colors--shades of brown and gray that were likely once white and yellow.

Weapons: The only weapon Piper carries on her is a tarnished set of brass knuckles, which she usually stores in one of her pockets.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Skills/Abilities:
- Pickpocket: Piper is a skilled pickpocket. A middle sibling in a medium-sized, impoverished family, from a young age the girl followed in her elder sister's footsteps and took on a life of minor crimes. She's relatively comfortable with slight-of-hand techniques and pays close attention to people and where they put their valuables. Finally, she has very special tactics to conceal smaller loot such as rings and coins. She can retrieve them a few days later.
- Boat-Repair: With a family business in boat-repair, Piper has a better understanding of how to repair boats than most. That said, she was never exceptional at her family trade, preferring to stay back and lie in the sun instead.

Magic: N/A

Backstory: Piper's life began as the middle child to Dagmar Pim and Noah Duchamp, a dwarf and a sailor joined in a bizarre and holy matrimony. The first person she took on after was her elder sister, Rhine. The two girls made a connection the instant Pip was able to speak, and together they were known to get in a plethora of harebrained schemes. While Dagmar tended to the youngest child (born just a few years after Pimmy) and Noah adamantly taught the girls everything he knew about boats, Rhine would lead her sister around town, honing skills that would eventually come to save Piper's sorry hide.

Growing up, Rhine and Piper barely worked a day in their lives. The two of them were wont to sneak out before a day's work and prattle their way about markets, swiping products off market stalls, nicking coin off unfortunate passers by, and scamming the daft when convenience struck. Minor misfortune came when Noah insisted Rhine take a more active hand in the family business. Before the night was over, Rhine was gone, and Piper was next in line to take on the trade. For a few years, Piper worked with her father and little sister, Vee, to tend to broken sails that funded their family. When Vee was old enough to no longer need her help, Pip sank back into her old habits.

The family turned a blind eye to the bits of extra food and coin that appeared in their house. Piper had become comfortable with numerous ways to swipe spare change and product. She’d use clever distractions to slip her hands where they didn’t belong, wade through bustling crowds a little weightier than before, and be the little hand that snagged small merchandise off busy market stalls. Anything that could fit in a closed fist could fit in her mouth and her throat. She’d swallow it and retrieve it a few days later.

Tension was high around the time the world seemed to unravel. Life at home was becoming unbearable. Piper couldn’t take the work when the family was at each other’s throats, finding any excuse to get out. A badly marred sailboat took port and the sailors dispersed. By the time night fell, Piper had managed to pickpocket two of them. She followed her third unfortunate victim into a tavern, identifying him by the beads in his hair.

She started by overwhelming him. Her speech was rapid and slurred, and her gestures were broad. She started with a drink from the estranged sailor, eyeing where he kept his coin. By the second drink, she still hadn’t taken from him. It wasn’t until they had loosened up considerably did she forget the initial goal. She agreed to meet him the following night. No longer did money or bread appear in the Pim household, instead going to the pair’s drunken evenings. For a couple weeks, Piper’s days consisted of waking up midday, stealing enough coin, and blowing it on ale late into the night. When disappointment struck Joey in the form of a vanished ship, Piper offered her condolences and services.

When criminals cooperate, it forms a strange sort of bond--the acceptance that the future may contain dark cells and missing hands becomes diminished by the confidence that someone will always bail the other out. Together, Pip and Joey made ends meet. Incoming and outgoing ships funded Piper’s family and their harebrained schemes, strangely reminiscent of Rhine, fueled their drinking and tavern room. When Piper was too tired to go home, she spent the nights with him, forcing him to sleep on the floor while she took up the bed. Eventually, she stopped returning home, and Piper’s family came to accept that she was no longer a Pim.

Homeless, jobless, and hapless, Piper and Joey are free as birds and happy as clams. Piper lives with little care in the world and totes Joey around on her hedonistic whims. Together, they eagerly go day by day, forgetting the past and barely considering the future.

Decided to bring back an old favourite of mine, which didn't see much use in the last RPs I used her in. Also good to have a bit of race diversity

Name:
Cassius Dennis
"The Wandering Swordsman"

Race: Human

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Appearance:


Clothing/Armor:
Under his usual cloak, he wears light armor to provide some protection but not hinder his movement. His undershirt is usually chain mail, under his light armor.

Weapons:
Carries a long sword that carries a black and blue pattern on the hilt and the grip. The long sword can cut relatively well. Has a pouch that contains small throwing daggers.

Alignment:
Neutral Good

Skills/Abilities:
Being trained at a young age by his father, his proficiency over the sword is apparent, his sword prowess is so well known that people have dubbed him "The Wandering Swordsman"
He almost has below average skill in other weapons, being no better than a trained soldier in anything but a sword. His attacks are all based on speed, as his father had always told him that speed triumphs strength.

Stutter step: A movement that is very fast, it looks like a stutter blur.
Final Hour: A technique taught by his father as a last-ditch effort, it augments his speed to a very high degree that he looks like a specter. After three minutes of use, Cassius will collapse for the rest of the day.

Magic:
N/A

Backstory:
Born under the Dennis household, whose name was renowned across the land as providing the swiftest swordsmen and swordswomen. Cassius is the son of the current head of the household and his wife. At the tender age of 12, his father had begun his harsh and strict training. His father had always instilled within Cassius that speed should be priority than strength as, "In theory, if you cannot get hit, then you can't lose."

His training was rough and unloving, in contrast to his father's demeanor outside of training. For years, Cassius has had been trained by his father and his colleagues in the art of speed and the swords. It consisted of stamina, speed and sword exercises. The training usually lasted for 2/3rd's of the day with a break in between. He would also usually be forced to spar with opponents slightly stronger than him, so that he would be unhinged and get stronger day by day.

After years of rigorous training, and at the age of 23, his father had told him to go travel and hone his skills, for he has nothing left to teach him. Thanking his father and receiving his blessings, he left and started to travel around the world, looking for strong swordsmen to hone his skills and as fate has it, he has come to Waeldeshore.

Right here's my characters, & Hi all! :)

@WanderingRebel

Don't be shy, introduce yourself in the OOC! (because I'm not sure people have noticed you yet)

Name: Marek Tesar

Race: Human

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Appearance: Marek has hard facial features, prominent cheekbones and forehead, a slightly crooked nose, and squared jaw. He has longer black hair, though more often than not it's swept back into a ponytail. His thick eyebrows stand above dark gray eyes. His skin is white, typical of someone from northern descent, slightly tanned, and is marked with burn scars, heavily on his arms, and lighter around his torso and legs. Interestingly enough, they're not entirely uniform, as some look more recent than others. While he claims to have a small birthmark shaped like a flame on his back, anyone who inspects it closely enough might notice it's just another scar from a burn, albeit made much more carefully and intentionally.
Marek stands at 5'11" and weighs about 145lbs. He could be called fit, if not skinny, mostly from weeks of travel of the road.

Clothing/Armor: Marek's preferred style of dress is a snug tunic, sleeveless, with pants that cut away at the knees. However, due to weeks of travel, he currently has a dirty. long-sleeved coat that reaches down to his shins and has a singed hole through the left hip, a green linen shirt with dark pants, and a sturdy pair of boots. He lugs around all of his worldly possessions on a backpack strapped to his torso with one-too-many belts. He a wears shiny, small rock around his neck, tied with his a leather thong, and can often be seen with dark spectacles.

Weapons: A single dagger is sheathed at his belt on his right hip, the blade about a hand's span in length. Aside from that, he totes a flintlock pistol in his coat on the right side as well. It's usually kept loaded, and fits into a leather "holster," inside the pocket that specifically keeps the barrel pointed away from himself. It's slower to draw because of this, but after almost shooting his own leg when he kept it in his left pocket, the extra moment is more than worth it. Because of the slow reload time (for him), he usually doesn't keep his smooth bore ammunition, extra flints, and primer is kept in an outside pocket on his backpack. The powder, patches, and ramrod are kept in a separate pocket.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Skills/Abilities:
Half-dead-shot: Hardly a marksman, Marek knows a bit more than anyone else might about aiming, shooting, and reloading, however the beauty of the gun is that it takes very little skill to operate. He can't reload as quickly as a professional soldier could, nor can he always guarantee the shot will be perfectly loaded...but he sure does know the basics.
Silver Tongued: Although Marek has always been a gifted story-teller, it’s only recently that he’s been forced to sharpen his skills as a liar. The stigma and pariah status that comes with his magecraft have made it a necessity.

Magic: Marek’s magic is an inborn talent, recognized by an elder when he was young, and has since been informally honed into two different types: The creation, and manipulation of fire. He may call different utilizations “spells,” but it amounts to the same thing, just with a small spin to it. Sometimes he needs more of one than another; if he can find a source, for example, he need only a small shower of sparks. If not, it’s a bit more taxing on him to maintain a fire without fuel. That isn’t to say he’s a novice. The various burn scars that cover his arms and body are testament to his years of practice, but in the world of magecraft, he is far from being a “master.” The source of his magic could be called, “mana,” though it’s tied much more intimately to his own energy than a separate pool. If he’s tired after a long day of manual labor, casting becomes much more difficult than if he’s well-rested and fed. If he creates a conflagration, he may become tired, hungry, and grouchy, much like if someone was physically exhausted.That doesn’t mean he’s immune to effects that drain, “mana,” or magic, quite the opposite. Because the pool that he draws from is tied to his own energy, it can sap him of his strength, physically and magically.

Backstory: Born in a small settlement on a river, opposite a marsh, to Havel and Emily Tesura, Marek was followed by two younger sisters. His father was a carpenter and served as alderman in the artisan guild for a few years, so was moderately successful in his endeavors. Marek never showed much aptitude for carpentry or woodwork, nor to any of the other trades in the guild his father introduced him to. In his early years, it wasn’t much of a concern, but around the time he turned 12, it became worrisome. In a final effort, his father arranged an apprenticeship to his brother, a locksmith, Marek’s uncle. For two years he assisted his uncle on minor jobs, and traveled with him when he needed to. Although he never showed much in way of “natural talent,” he learned a little, and enjoyed the time spent with his uncle and cousins.

It was at 14 that odd things began to occur, particularly in the kitchen or out at the campfires when they traveled. The flames flickered, the fires spewed showers of sparks or grew in height, even on still nights. Not too long after that, fires began starting where there had been no flames or sparks, though luckily they were always put out. The strange occurrences came to climax when his uncle’s house burned down, and nearly killed everyone, Marek included. The family sought help and contacted a specialist. At first, they thought it was ghosts that plagued the family, but the specialist, a mage, arrived, he quickly deduced what the issue was, and tested Marek and his cousins for any sort of magical inclination. He explained the to the family the issue, the risks, and made an offer to take Marek off their hands. While the boy thought it was a ridiculous offer, his aunt and uncle finally assented after weighing the pros and cons all night. The hurt that Marek felt at seemingly being sold to a complete stranger by his own family would stay with him for years until it was replaced by gratitude and the sense of superiority that the mages helped instill. But that wouldn’t be for sometime yet.

The mage’s name was Jean Perkins. His “specialty,” wasn’t in creating magic, but suppressing it. He made his living finding “unusual,” problems that plagued the common folk and ridding them of the issue, which, he explained, involved something magical, item or caster. He had very little need or want for a fire mage, but he did need extra help in getting around. He couldn’t offer the boy training, but he did promise that he could try and help arrange it if it came up. But he could offer minimal guidance, and even offered to suppress any magical bursts that proved to be too much for Marek to control. In everything else, he needed to train for himself. It wasn’t much, but at least he was able to learn to control, and rein in his magical abilities.

Marek soon discovered that, contrary to what Perkins has lead him to believe, “unusual,” problems weren’t as magical as implied. In the rare times magic users were at fault, it was usually for good reason; A magic item is found, bought, or stolen and the owner has no idea how to use said item, a caster feels wronged and plagues the person responsible, or, in Marek’s case, a magic user has no control over their own abilities.

Over the next six years, Marek and Perkins moved in and out of the mage and common communities. All the while, Marek explored his sorcery, and Perkins was always nearby incase things became too much for him to handle. Still, by the time he was 20, Marek had numerous, albeit small, burn scars along his arms and one on his leg. Even a fire mage wasn’t immune to his own fire when the blaze was big enough. Shortly after Marek’s 21st birthday, Perkins retired and the informal master/apprentice relationship ended. Marek couldn’t continue the old mage’s studies or business; the only way Marek knew how to suppress magic was to raze whatever was causing it to the ground. That didn’t seem like a very popular method for ridding people of troublesome magic, and so he was out on his own. Sure, he was confident enough in his fledgling skills to advance his training on his own, and he knew enough of his own limits to practice without Perkins as a safety net.

Despite being able to conjure fire, Marek found that he couldn’t conjure coin. His early jobs were limited to that of a laborer. His magic, while useful beyond measure, wasn’t so much a skill to him like carpentry or tailoring; anyone could light a fire. He was a young man without a profession, and probably would have stayed in that rut had he not been found once more by another mage.

Unlike Perkins, who actively tried to shy away from a majority of the mages, this one, Joseph Blackwell, fully indoctrinated him into the community. He too was a fire mage, so Marek supposed there might be some sort of kinship between them. Blackwell’s intentions, however, were far less pure, but by no means malicious. Blackwell was building an army. Again he received no formal training, but he did learn many useful tricks for starting, catching, and spreading his fire. He also met several others, also fire mages, under Blackwell’s command. It was not a formal “army,” in any shape, but a collaboration of half a dozen men and women who shared the same affinity for a specific type of magic. However, for the first time, he felt like he found where he belonged.

The mages trained together, but separate, and learned to work in unison. All the while, Blackwell had been instilling in them a sense of pride at being mages, and slowly groomed them over the next few years for combat because, “fire magic is purely an offensive form, so this is how we train.” For years the group acted as Blackwell’s personal guard, and were dispatched on several small missions with him. The first few, they were told, were “peacekeeping,” missions, and their presence was only to ensure that nothing happened.

In the next few missions, the team was put into pairs and split up. They were told the mage population in certain areas was being targeted, and they were dispatched to help protect them. On his first ship out, Marek and his partner were traveling in a passenger ship, told to lay low and not give away their position. This inevitably failed when they were attacked by pirates. The cannons on the pirate ship made quick work of their own, and at a distance, fire magic was next to useless. Marek and his partner escaped, but he did gain an appreciation for gunpowder.

As the war of the mages moved into full swing, Marek, as a fire mage, and his partner were dispatched to more and more places, often to help raze, pillage, and act as crowd control. He and the others had been convinced that what they were fighting for was equality of mages, and to end the oppression. Although Marek hadn’t seen much, working as a laborer had shown him that jobs requiring mages were often very limited.

As the tides turned and it was clear who the winner would be, Marek and his partner fled after a particularly bad incident in which his partner was shot in the leg with a crossbow bolt. Now a detriment, he was forced to leave him behind. Whether he lived or died, Marek never found out. He spent the end of the war and the years after laying low and hiding his magecraft. Then, out of the blue, he ran into his old employer, Blackwell, who informed him of recent rumors and odd happenings in the town of Waeldeshore. Allegedly, Jeltheor has resurfaced. As the pupil of Anjoel, who started and led the war. It was only natural that he should be found, secured, and protected until he can be retrieved and taken somewhere safe to plan out the next movements, and possibly restart the war.

Name: Wynn Llywelyn
Race: Human
Age: Thirty-Three
Gender: Male

Appearance: Wynn Llywelyn stands a height of 5'8", and is a very lean and gangly man. He has long arms and legs, and has a slight reputation for being inelegant, often being careless when it comes to handling things. Wynn has jet-black hair that is normally kept unkempt and is also tied into a ponytail. Freckles also speckle and span all over the man’s skin, most notably on his face and many scars, mostly burns can be found on his body.

Clothing/Armor: Wynn's attire is simplistic. He dons a green vest that covers a beige undershirt, an array of belts that are strewn from shoulder to waist and around his waist. The thirty-three year old also sports a orange sash that is tightly wrapped around his waist, a single, long piece of it dangling freely. For pants he wears simple dark brown trousers that are tucked into long black boots. Lastly, Wynn wears leather gloves and is always seen wearing his signature goggles.

Weapons: For armament, Wynn keeps a cutlass sheathed at his waist, accompanied by a flintlock pistol, which he keeps on hand at all times.Wynn keeps the cutlass sheathed on his right side for quick access while the flintlock is kept in a leather holster attached to his waist belt on his left. Wynn also keeps some ammunition, flint, and primer stored in a pouch located on the backside of his belt.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Skills/Abilities:
Marksman - Wynn is a good shot when it comes to using his flintlock pistol, though his somewhat lousy blurred eyesight interferes with his aim, he also runs short on ammunition quite a bit.
Explosive Technician - Wynn has an infamous history of being the one out of his crew for blowing up things. Because of his “expertise” in explosives, Wynn was assigned to working the cannons, though on his free time he would always toy around whatever explosives he could get his hands on, or even make some of his own. Wynn’s notorious skill in explosives led to the reason as to why his ship sunk when he accidently set off a few explosives below deck. Needless to say, Wynn’s good at making things go boom.
Lousy swordsman - Wynn is lousy when it comes to using a cutlass, much preferring his flintlock over his cutlass.

Magic: Wynn has zero magical ability or capabilities. Wynn however believes mages are supernatural deities.

Backstory:

Evil has come.

Name: Sir Robert Keteloven.

Race:human

Gender:Male

Age: 34

Appearence: Robert is two meters and has blue eye'sHe has a very strong body build and a really tiny butt. His skin is white but has darkend over the years. He has a giant scar over his left eye, and he has lost a part of his right ear. He Also has A tatoo of his family's crest on his right bicep. And as last but not least. He has long blond hair that reacties to his shoulders.


Clothing/armor: When not wearing his Armor. Wich is extreamly rare,because he really loves his armor. He wears a white Tunic And black pants, And very rich looking shoes. His armor is medium heavy . He has a Heavy black chest plate. And a medium sized helm Wich is also black. His arms and legs however are a diffrent story. because even though he protects his chest and head quit well. His Legs and armor have only light armor. Because Robert likes to have some movement. This does however makes his arms and legs less defended.

Weapons: He has a very mysterious broadsword wich is named heaven and hell. Its called that because sometimes the sword is sane. Wich is repensenting heaven. And sometimes the sword is completly insane. The sword however is inteligent. . He wears the sword on his back. Also only Robert can touch it if you do touch it you will lose a hand. Your hand will slowly turn to ashes and the longer you touch it the more youl lose.
Only Robert can talk with the sword using telepathy. The sword can also be very strong against magic. Although it really depends if its sane or not.


The sword has however a few very strong abilties. The user of the sword can sometimes move fastert and attack harder. The sword is also very strong against magic as in if Robert got a fire ball thrown his way. His sword could cut it in half.Now where is the big minus. It can be epic but it can also be completly and utterly useless. It becomes way to heavy. Or really duo.This is way Robert has a small knife with him in case his sword becomes drunk. His Knife is also very special to him since its his last reminder of his family since it bears his crest. Wich i will now show you.



Alignment: Chaotic This man loves to fight and party.But he isnt evil He is neutral just loves to kill loot and drink. Lots and lots of drinking.( seriously This guy could drink the whole night without passing out. )

Skills/Abilities: Robert Is a realy offensive fighter always attacking never planning. And while he can crush through his enemy,s it all depends on his giant sword. Because when it decides to get drunk well lets just say he only has his knife And his fists left. Speaking of fists Robert really has a punch literally. Because of his love for fighting he has been in countless bar fight usually punching his opponent to a pulp. As for any other things? well Robert has been expirimenting with brewing his own Wich can be very explosive. Sometimes he gets lucky and makes himself a molotov cocktail.
He a few skills one of wich is called TORNADO in wich he will spin around going through the enemy defences.
He also has a skill called BLACK HORIZON in wich he will go on a frenzy. Powerd by the sword itslef. However when the frenzy is done he will be in a weakend state. So he dislikes using it.

Magic: n/m

Backstory: From the outside Robert looks like an asshole wich he really is. But there is a reason why. FLASHBACK. When Robert was young he and his Family used to be a small noble house in a now destroyed kingdom. All was well until one day the kingdom was attacked bye demons and monsters. Robert 16 atThe time went to war with his brothers. Sadly he lost them all including his father who died in his arms.

His last words where, Be strong and be brave. Robert vowed to always uphold his fathers last wish hwoever when he returned home he wasnt ready for what would happen next. His home his family all dead slaughterd by monsters and deamons. when Robert searched the castle for anything all he could find where two things. One his personal knife. And two a weird looking sword that he had never seen before. It spoke to him And the two very quivkly developed some sort of weird bond. And so Robert went of to find his own fortune. He became a known monsterhunter and bounty hunter. And was granted the titel of knight when he saved two nobleman. The loss of his family however made him a heavy drinker. Because of this he would create trouble. he also has no respect for those who dont have strenght. He is however very loyal once you have proven your worth to him. You can do this by either defeating him or saving his ass. he also has a big weaksport about his family His work eveantualy drew him to Waeldeshore. But he has no idea what will happen when he arrives there.

Name: Siegfried Roanoke

Race: Human

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Appearance: Rowan is a tall man with a average frame and a muscular build. He has one icey blue eyes as well as upper-back length, black, messy hair. He's a pale-skin with a deep tan and scars covering his torso and arms. The strangest thing about his appearance is the birthmark on his forehead which resembles a third eye, one which becomes more prominent when he is more enraged. The last notable piece to his appearance is a brand on his upper right arm which resembles a jagged swirl.

Clothing/Armor: He wears red, tattered pants, a leather belt, a red, tattered shirt, leather boots and a black, tattered cloak. Over his clothes, he wears thin armor over his feet, shins and knees as well as bracers and a light chainmail. Around his neck he wears a circular locket with an ornate celtic design, inside of which is a picture of him as a child and a girl with their names, Siegfried and Brynhildr, scratched into the inside opposite the picture.

Weapons: Rowan wields a long broadsword with nothing special about it other than its extended handle, allowing him to switch from single hand and two hand wielding styles, which he keeps sheathed on the side of his backpack. His only other weapon is some sort of eastern dagger (similar to a scimitar) that he keeps sheathed at his left hip.

Alignment: NG

Skills/Abilities: He's proficient with longswords and bigger blades but has trouble with new weapons at first. He learns quickly how to use weapons. Very proficient at hunting and fishing as well as other survival skills. He knows how to work a forge well as he repairs his broken weapons and tries to keep the others from breaking.

Magic: The branding on his arm magically calls monsters and demons to him. Because of the dragon blood in him,

Backstory: He doesn't know much about his history other than the fact he's always fought monsters, his name and the girl. However, this is only a small part of the man.

When he was young, Siegfried spent much of his time running around the little northern village he'd grown up in with his best friend, Brynhildr. Other children would pick on him because he was smaller than them. Because of Brynhildr, he became braver, stronger and bigger. When he became of age, his village was attacked by a dragon, Fafnir, which he battled and defeated, accidentally swallowing a bit of the beast's blood and covering his wounds. Since then, he's been wandering, fighting, surviving, honing his skills and defending the weak.