I don't want to take up too much space, and someone said it was alright for me to write, so I shall write. As far as version of D&D I played, well I own a bunch of 3.5 books however I don't play that version often. All my D&D took place in a place called Jobcorps, a training program for young adults. More precisely a jobcorps called Wolf Creek. There I met people of similar interest. They all were in love with 2.0, and due to a lack of anyone else to play with I grew acquainted with the version, even if it was at times, frequently, backwards and stupid with it's use of 'logic'. During my time at jobcorp however people came and went, and due to that the playing group changed. There was other versions, or even custom versions used.
Stars Without Number, Rifts, a custom 2.0 overhauled to cater interesting magic on magic battles. House rules established over the time spent playing.
I had fun, and did many foolish things. I accidentally helped resurrect the dwarf god Morridan by having him suck power from Talos, the god of man from Skyrim. I fought for the entertainment of thousands in the arena, while the godlike Mister Popo blinked around the arena, the judge to ensure fairness. I assassinated planets with an army of battle droids, receiving a fortune and getting even more money by threatening my employer that I would destroy the planet if they didn't pay me more. I burnt chieftains to ash with perfectly placed fire blasts before taking their position and their bandits as my own. All of these things I did with that feeling I mentioned before in my gut, but victory was not the only thing I knew.
I was held down by the magic of a vile drow priest, and while the crowds watched, snakes were made to enter my every orifice until I died. I did combat with an OP GM character AI, and with boldness then attempted to forcefully take power from a weaker AI attached to an orbital station, that AI using the station's immense amount of electricity to overload the ship my physical form was on.

Honestly my opinion of drow was forever marked since that point was forever negative, I honestly can't like drow anymore.
Man it has been too long since those times.

Name: Athelgard, or Joseph

Nicknames/Titles: Frost Wolf of the Iron Plains, Thulmater, Iorinak, Puppy

Age: Presumably a couple thousand years old, though no one can say for certain.

Gender: Male

Race: Shapeshifter, however his original form is that of a wolf, not a human.

Sexuality: Do wolves count? No? Okay, heterosexual

Year: …

Abilities/Magic:

Shapeshift: Athelgard can change his form at will, and to pretty much anything that actually exists. He retains all knowledge, personality, memories, everything from his original form, and the change is almost perfect. Though very few have ever actually seen him change form, it is thought to be a beautiful sight.

Archaic Frost: In ancient times, and tomes long lost, there were tales of a wolf that could take human form, speak in human tongue, and conjure ice of of nothing. He could freeze a room solid in seconds, and his glare was enough to freeze you to you very core. There were tales of entire cities turned to ice, the citizens captured in frozen tombs for eternity, and in only minutes.

Eye of the Rune Keeper: It was once said that the wolf could read any writing, and speak any tongue; be it foreign, ancient, or lost - it could read and speak it fluently. It was also said that, whenever it would use this magic, it's left eye - the once coloured red and scarred - would glow a crimson light.

Strengths: Let's see… He can read and speak any language fluently, he can freeze entire cities in minutes, and can take the form of any creature that lives and he can think of. Also, when he changes form, everything around him is basked in a brilliant white light. So… That's blinding.

Weaknesses: Well, his ice magic is actually pretty underpowered unless he is angry or upset, and is mostly limited to creating small areas of ice, lowering temperatures, or keeping things cool.

He takes about 10 seconds to change form, so if you can see past the amazing light, then you can probably kill him.

Catalyst: More of a natural catalyst - his left eye, a dark red with a scar underneath, acts as his catalyst.

Inventory: He has a locket that hasn't been opened for a thousand years, a key to a lock lost in the Frost Wars, and a folded up sheet of music to a song long lost.

Master: None right now.

Squad Name: Nope

Pesonality: I'll give you his personality, cause I'm nice.

Athelgard, unlike other being of his longevity, is actually quite down-to-earth. He isn't regal, doesn't speak like a God, and doesn't reign his life over people. He is easy to talk to, and easy to get along with (for the most part). He doesn't mind a joke, nor playing around, though he might get annoyed if you bring up his homeland.

Speaking of annoyance, when Athelgard gets angry, you really know so. His tone changes drastically, the air around him freezes, and you know you’re fucked. Sometimes, when thinking or talking of his past, he might slowly drift off and stare blankly into space. If you’re lucky, you might even see a frosted tear drift down his face, though it's unlikely.

Also, if you call him puppy, prepare for some frostbite. And the loss of some limbs.

Backstory: Let's start from the beginning, shall we?

Athelgard was born into the Iron Wolf tribe; a clan of Shapeshifting Wolves that hunted together as family, living in the Iron Plains (a place that has long been lost to all records) His parents were the leaders of the clan, if you will, and so he held a large amount of power over the other members. Not to mention his certain affinity with ice magic, and his odd abilities as a Shapeshifter. Most members could only transform into a couple of different forms, whereas Athelgard had no problem changing into anything he saw fit.

Fast forward a few hundred years to the Iron Wars; a series of battles between the Iron Wolf clan, and the Silver Band - a large mercenary force who saw the clan as demons. There were four battles over all, with Athelgard taking part in every one of them.

The first, he sat on the side as a supporter - freezing enemy threats, etcetera. He was, for the most part, a useless asset. Or at least he was, until the leaders of the clan were assassinated on a trip to a village for some supplies.

In the second battle, he saw prominence as a fierce adversary - wiping out enemies left, right and center with absolute ease. He was regarded as a hero to the clan, and almost worshipped. However, at the time, there was a member of the tribe who refused to see Athelgard as a hero.

During the third battle, the clan was slaughtered save a few. One member had sold out the clan for his own safety, and they were ambushed on a hunt. It was a massacre, as none were ready for a battle, and only 5 survived. Those that remained believed their leader dead, and left to try and rebuild what they could. Athelgard, however, was not dead, and was instead found and rescued by a young woman who lived with her father.

There, he was nursed back to health, and offered a place to stay, to which he happily obliged. The two seemed unfazed by his nature, and his race, and instead opted to help the wolf learn human customs. He was taught etiquette, festivities, etcetera, but not the language. Somehow he was able to read and speak the human tongue fluently without it ever gracing his lips before so. It was here he was given the nickname Puppy, and the woman is the only person who may call him that.

He stayed for 20 years, and fell in love with the woman that rescued him. At the time, the woman was practising to become a musician, and hoped to one day become world famous. The two were likely to get married within a year, but before they could plan anything her father passed away. She was stricken with grief, and composed a song just for her father.

A song that was never able to be played.

Only weeks after he died, the home was attacked. The Silver Band had caught wind of sightings of a white haired male with multi coloured eyes, and proceeded to burn down the woman's cottage, and kill her. No one realised their mistake until everything within a 20 mile radius was completely frozen solid. The only thing that survived the attack was the sheet of music which he carries with him.

No one is certain what actually happened past then. There have been records from countless corners of the world, claiming him to be an ice God, a warrior, a hero. Some say he froze the capital of Poland in minutes, and some say he caused the ice age (for whatever reason). There were people saying he was the king of an ancient civilisation, some that claimed him to be a wandering Mage, and some that claimed him to be a womaniser that crept from land to land seducing their leaders.

All that is known now is that he has come to Liseranna, the most prestigious magical academy, in search of someone to call a master. For what reason, nobody is entirely sure, but some speculate he isn't actually in the school, but is instead somewhere else. Where, nobody actually knows. Well… None except A.