There is a time in our darkest hours when all hope fades, when there is no light at the end of the long tunnel and despair closes in. It is during those times that we find we are the most vulnerable, to ourselves and outsiders alike. To those who would seek to prey upon us when we are at our weakest and steal from us. Then there are those who only seek to help, the people whose names will be long lost to history and forgotten. These people are known only as Journeymen, members of an organization that has long since protected us in our olden days.
The Journeymen hunt down creatures which terrorize our villages and seek out the bandits who wish to cripple our trade. Some say they even go so far as to be mediators between nations at war, to have settled peace between them so as to allow the people to flourish and survive. But the Order of the Traveler is a thing of the past, an organization crippled by its own selfless ideologies that it attracted those who do not wish to be quite as upstanding as their masters were. It is in this time that we find we may need the Journeymen the most, in these days that are growing ever darker that we will need their support.
For a winter is brewing quite unlike any we have ever seen, a winter with winds far colder and nights far darker than any before. Some say it is a farce, a tale told by midwives and elders who have grown senile in their time, seeking only to scare the children into submission. But nay, something is awakening far beyond what we can see and it is something far more terrible than any may have ever seen. The creatures of the forests have been disturbed, far more aggressive than ever before and actively seek out our villages. Few say the kings have begun going mad, slowly growing ever more distant from their council as a darkness creeps into their courts. What is coming may be something of legend, something we have never faced before. Perhaps the Order of the Traveler and the Journeymen will return to their former glory. Or perhaps we shall fall into despair once more with naught but darkness all around.
In Ages long past, the land of Erith was home only to the long lived Elves and the stout dwarves, a peaceful coexistence between beings more so in tune with nature than those who campe later to Erith. For centuries the two races existed in peace, disputes being settled without any bloodshed or harm between the two. Yet, that all changed when the humans came from across the sea. They were not invaders, nay they were refugees from a land of war, a land so clouded by the fires of burning villages that the lines between combatants and innocents were blurred. It was said that land of Hael sunk beneath the sea, its people and remnants of war lost forever.
The Humans brought with them a life neither Dwarf nor Elf has ever known before, a life far too short but capable of reaching greater heights by building upon the deeds of others. It wasn’t long before the Humans claimed much of the land of Erith as their own, being allowed as such by the Elves who saw the fledgling race as needing someone to protect them in this new land. But the Elves had underestimated the true desires that lay in the hearts of man, the desire of greed and lust. There were those who sought to take from the Elves and Dwarves what they believed should be rightfully theirs.
One such man was a human known as King Haedron, a fledgling Lord who had obtained power in the young years of their arrival in Erith. In his old age, he began to believe that there could be no coexistence between the three of them, that they must war for the right to rule over Erith. So it was on the dawn of the Second Era that King Haedron started a war to exterminate the Elves and enslave the dwarves within his land. Many were slaughtered and those who fought back were often tortured or subjected to far worse. Those who did not fight were placed in shackles, chained together to be led into the cities for sale.
During the Chaos, a divide formed between the King and his subjects, between those who saw the Elves as lesser than those who understood the Elves and Dwarves to be equals. Haedron was stricken with betrayal when his own son, Prince Gael, struck out with those who had sided against his Father to the Lands north of the Haedrion Kingdom, settling in a land more hostile and wild than they ever knew which is now known as Gaelia. From there, Gael and his followers built a Kingdom, one with the base idea that humans and Elves may exist peacefully without fear of murder or slavery.
Come the dawn of the Third Era and the Kingdoms of Haedrion and Gaelia have never once entered a full war to this day, only small skirmishes between each other and their many vassals. Some say it is because neither can risk losing the war, others say it is the binding of blood that keeps the Kings from ripping out the heart of the other. Whatever it may be, the unsteady peace between the two has given rise to many bandits and deserters from the armies, none full wishing to support these worthless battles nor die for a worthless King.
In Ages past, the Order of the Traveler was a beacon to all who were in need of help, no matter their race nor allegiance on Erith. All who were in need simply put up a contract on their town’s board and wait for a Journeyman to find it and answer. But those times have passed and the Order has fallen into distrust and is no longe hailed as a haven full of heroes. No, now it is full of those who seek to steal from others without completing a contract, giving them false hope in form of snake oil and false charms. Even those who uphold the beliefs of the founder, Marcus Fullbright, are seen as liars and deceitful, another rat looking to prey on the weak.
But how did the Order get to this point, well that is a story told to many children when they are young. It is a story of a war that almost was, a story of a man and his seven followers. This story begins with a man, Marcus Fullbright, who hailed from the Gaelia and had been orphaned from a young age, taken in by a small group of Elves on the fringes of the still young nation. The Everwood was a massive forest, home to thousands of Elves even to this day, but the story tells of a specific people inside who worshipped a God long forgotten by the others, the Traveler.
The Traveler was a simple God, one who took the form of a man wearing naught but rags and wandering across the trails of the Elvish forests. He would ask only for a single coin or even some food, those who offered would have their kindness repaid in the form of an issue in their life being mysteriously solved. One’s crops aren’t growing too well this season? Offer a coin to the Traveler and they would mystically grow overnight to fruition. Soon many people would worship him, leaving offerings with notes attached to them outside their doors. Young Marcus was enthralled by the tale of the Traveler and grew up to idolize the God who, to most people, was long dead and gone from this world.
As he grew up, tensions along the borders of Haedrion and Gaelia grew worse and worse, reaching a culmination when the then King of Haedrion, Michalus, blamed his brother Gael’s son- and then King of Gaelia- of kidnapping the princess of Haedrion. Despite all of King Neraus’ pleas, Michalus was adamant that it was Neraus that had stolen his daughter from him. As with all stories, this would later prove untrue but it mattered not as Marcus watched from afar as the peasants on both side were trampled over and attacked by overzealous troops from both sides.
Marcus saw the despair in his fellow Gaelian’s eyes and hearts and sought a way to help them, to give them hope when their lives were falling apart. And so, he decided to become the Traveler, to fix people’s problems for whatever they could spare. Though he went hungry some nights or slept on the cold, hard ground, Marcus stuck true to his beliefs. He soon met those he wanted to do the same as him and thus the Journeymen had formed along side him, performing duties which he could not. Some of them fought for the villagers, some built housing, but all of them did what they could for the people.
That is, until a mysterious woman approached Marcus with a contract, one with a payment far greater than he could ever have obtained otherwise. The woman who needed his help? Princess Allia of Haedrion who, during the middle of the night many months ago, had fled from her home in the capital of Haedrion to live with a man she had fallen in love with in Gaelia. The man happened to be a noble of the country and could not get audience with King Neraus to explain the situation. But the Traveler surely could for he was a legend, a God, asking to see the King of Gaelia.
So, in the guise of the Traveler, Marcus set out to prevent the brewing war and set right what was wrong. His audience with the King was granted and he explained the situation, though it led to many tense months as Neraus and Michalus spoke of a truce between their nations. Marcus was granted land and a title, should he accept it. Marcus turned down his title and established the Order so that his name may be carried on and the beliefs he held may continue. One could say that, even to this day, Marcus looks down with pride on what he has created.
Long ago the Haedrion Empire looked over the land of Erith with what one could only describe as happiness, the glee at being in a land where they were free from the wars which had destroyed their homes. That look slowly turned into contempt towards the Elves and Dwarves, those other races which dare say they have claim to portions of the land which they should have willingly given to King Haedrion when he first took power. They claimed to be peaceful yet all they possessed was greed, greed and hatred for the Humans who had come to establish a home. Ages since have passed and now it is the Empire which looks down upon them, which sneers at them and laughs as they struggle to carve out their own place on Erith once more.
Haedrion is a beautiful land, one with vistas unlike any other and towns whose design are wondrous in of their own right. Much of the Empire is temperate, rarely ever reaching the freezing cold temperatures which are more common in Gaelia, but also possess lands to the far South along the Broken Sea where one might find warm weather and winter rain. Its furthest East border reaches to the Everwood, barely touching upon the territory of the Elves of Gaelia while the north western border hits the Ferandal Mountains, home to many Dwarven Undercities which, though their own city states, almost unanimously support Gaelia as well.
While Gaelia has the support of many vassal nations and city states formed by the Dwarves and Elves, Haedrion has the support of vassal kingdoms formed by humans as the land in their territory freed up. There are almost ten vassal kingdoms which recognize Haedrion as their master and four more which are unwilling to struggle against them when they call for soldiers. Fear keeps them in line, as it does many people in Haedrion, and it is fear that drives many to become bandits and plague the lands of the Empire. Though seen as pests, the King’s Army does nothing about the bandits which roam freely, instead relying on the Order to take care of them as they perform skirmishes against Gaelia.
What was once a beautiful kingdom has long fallen into darkness, obsessed with the superiority of Humans over the other races by their King. One could say that the mighty Haedrion Empire has fallen from glory but that’d be a lie. There is still beauty and hope in their lands, somewhere. All it requires is a spark. A single Spark to light the fire.
Long ago Gaelia was formed as a home to those King Haedrion wished to enslave or slaughter, a land to oppose a tyrant and protect the Elves and Dwarves who had been so kind as to offer them a home on Erith. The Gaelians were not blinded by the King’s madness, his obsession against the Elves, and wouldn’t submit to him no matter the cause. Now Gaelia has grown strong under the guide of its Kings. None could say that it was just the Kings who made Gaelia strong either for the land is full of danger, from the cold winters to the creatures which roam the lands at night.
Gaelia spans many miles and many terrains, from flat plains to tall mountains and rolling hills, though much of Gaelia is valleys seemingly formed by the massive glaciers now floating in the Northern Sea. Eastern Gaelia is occupied by the Everwood, home to much of the Elvish population and a forest so large that no human has ever been able to map its end without getting lost along the way. Western Gaelia is bordered by the Ferandal Mountains where many Dwarves still live to this day, though quite a few of them have started to integrate into surface life and share their advanced knowledge in smithing with the Humans of Gaelia. The land is beautiful, though prone to being cold many parts of the year with only a few months in Summer being truly, blissfully warm.
Much of Gaelia’s military might is supported by the Elves of Everwood and Dwarves of the Undercities with a few small kingdoms that formed along the border between Gaelia and Haedrion supporting them covertly. Gaelia is a land of hope, to some, though reality is something quite different in the end. Many still hold some racist beliefs towards the Elves and Dwarves, though they do the same, and the creatures which plague the Kingdom have grown ever more active as the years have gone by. Many seem to ignore the pain of others now solely to get a better place in life, something that only Gaelia seems to offer and welcome freely as many who are members of the Court are known for playing the Game.
The one thing the Kingdoms on Erith have in common is a singular form of currency, the Dahl. It is a simple coin, one made of either silver, copper, or gold, which bears the imprint of a mystical dragon on one side of it. The dragon is said to represent the crest of King Haedrion back in the day and the unity he and his family possessed before the creation of Gaelia. Nowadays, the dragon simply represents greed, the coins often having the nickname of Dragos by merchants.
Most foods, drinks, and rooms can be purchased with copper dahls, though some may cost silver this is uncommon. Places that cost are gold are considered to be only for royalty or nobility. Most armors and weapons, on the other hand, will cost at least a single silver to get a decent piece of gear.
Conversion Rate:
1000 Bronze -> 1 Silver 100 Silver -> 1 Gold
Example Price:
Human made Steel Chest Plate- 10 Silver
On Erith, there are two kinds of magic, the Magic which functions through the use of Runes reliant on one’s physical and mental strength and Arcane which relies on its power being drawn from another ‘plane’. Though, where exactly Arcane magic truly comes from is hard to determine as no researcher has ever yet found any truth to support the idea that magic comes from somewhere beyond Erith. What they do know is that Arcane magic is incredibly rare with only one in a thousand developing the ability to use it, thus many of them being heralded as blessings by those who are religious.
Where Arcane Magic is an art that only a select few can use, Rune Magic is an art that almost everyone can use so long as they are prepared to take the cost of using a Rune. Most Runic spells only last about five seconds and most and possess an element to them, though some go beyond this and can be long lasting so long as the runes used in the creation of the spell do not take a heavy toll on the caster. There is a subsection of Runic magic which focuses on long lines of Runes to form their spells and focuses on protection, both physical and mental, in the form of wards. Few learn wards as they require the utmost attention to detail in practice lest one creates the wrong line in a rune.
But unlike many Arcane casters, Rune casters are free to do whatever they wish. In Haedrion, many Arcane casters discovered by the King’s forces are forced into the military to learn how to control their magic and serve their King in the process. Few are free from the forced service aside from those with physical disabilities or those who run away. In Gaelia, they are free to choose their path but, in order to learn how to control their powers, will either have to pay the heavy toll of having an apprenticeship or enlist with the Order to learn from a mentor.
1. The GM and Co-GM’s words are law, if I say something is to be such a way then so shall it be. 2. One Character limit unless I request the creation of a secondary character. A character may be created if your main dies. 3. To expand upon Rule 3, it is most certainly possible for you character to die. I do not have anything against your characters and won’t force death. 4. You must be able to at least write 2 paragraphs and respond within 4 days. Leniency will be provided in certain cases but I will be adamant on these staying true. 5. Deaths will happen in the RP and there will be some gruesome scenes. If you cannot handle this then do no apply or cause a fuss, it just means the RP isn’t for you. 6. This RP is intended to run a long time and cover a lot of ground in the world of Erith. I expect dedication to maintaining this and to be alerted when something happens which will prevent from posting for a period of time.
[center][img][/img] [color=][h2][u]Character Name[/u][/h2][/color][/center] [.hr][.hr] [color=][b]Age:[/b][/color] [color=][b]Alias(es):[/b][/color] [color=][b]Gender:[/b][/color] [color=][b]Race:[/b][/color] (Elf, Dwarf, Human) [.hr][.hr] [color=][b]Appearance:[/b][/color] (Not needed if appearance is included in image) [color=][b]Personality:[/b][/color] (At least two paragraphs) [color=][b]Biography:[/b][/color] (At least two paragraphs) [.hr][.hr] [color=][b]Equipment:[/b][/color] (Armor, Weapons, Etc.) [color=][b]Skills:[/b][/color] (Brief descriptions of things your character are trained in or inherited from their race.) [color=][b]Magic:[/b][/color] (Leave blank if not applicable) [color=][b]Misc:[/b][/color] Simply fill in the color which your set hexedecimal code and remove the period from the hr tags.
Discord
I made a personal Discord for this RP. If you wish to talk to me, this is the easiest place to reach me. It is also the easiest way to keep you all updated on the work I am doing discord.gg/ZsCQbRt
I'd REALLY like to join this, I'm looking to get back into roleplaying and I absolutely loved the setting and the detail put into it. I'll start working on my CS.
Well damn. That was faster than I expected. Someone means business, lol. Awesome though. I am excited when GMs are excited. Again, fantastic detail @Mag Lev you really put noticable effort into this. Really good job! I think there are a few things I need to catch up on in here and will edit my bio if necessary (though I tried being very nonspecific anyway).
Anyway, My character:
The Money-hungry Mechanic
Name: Adalayne "Adler" Pander Age: 27 Alias(es): The Mechanic Gender: Male Race: Human Appearance: Adler is very short standing at 5’6’’ and weighs 155 lbs making him pretty heavy for his short stature. Adler is very muscular and defined, which comes from a lot of the metal work he has to do. Adler is heavier uptop, having a broad well defined upper back, chest and arms from constant hammer, mining, and archery. His arms in particular are very veiny and hard, to outwardly demonstrate the years upon years of hard work and physical labor he has put them through. He has a great deal of upper body strength, able to lift a couple dozen pounds more than his own weight in ore and rock. From playing with so much fire, he has a very bronze tan. He has rich, bright auburn brown hair that is so deep a brown that it looks like a starking red when in the light. Adler, like his mother, has bright emerald green eyes that almost seem to glow in the dark.
Personality: Adler is good natured and seemingly, very respectful. He always knows his place when it comes to the lords and the ladies of the special, fancy noble houses as well as the fancy dressed members of the ancient families that are, usually, of some important somewhere. Adler tries his best to never step on anyone's toes or cause chaos. The boy hates drama. He hates arguing, thinking it is the most wasteful way to, well, waste time, and he hates having unnecessary complications. In fact, Adler hates anything that isn’t according to plan as, one, he has zero to no patience and, two, he doesn’t like to improvise.
Adler is prideful of things he owns, creates or makes for others and thinks that his art and contraptions are above tier from those others make, despite being very young. As an inventor, Adler would rather create a new way to make a process easier rather than waste time doing something a longer way, again he is impatient, but he is not stubborn. His inability to fight conflict traditionally lets him compensate and complement others. Adler is the sort of many that will do anything or say anything to get someone bothersome to stop being bothersome. As one would imagine, Adler is extremely judgmental and prejudiced and racist, but he mostly keeps his negative opinions to himself and is constantly known to brandish a fake smile that, most of the time, everyone can see as a fake smile.
Adler has a personality that seems lazy or spineless at a distance, but he is actually very hardworking and very confident and even cocky when it comes to things he is passionate about. Adler loves machines, technology and weaponry and is your usual nerd when it comes to showing them off or their display. Still, even over things he loves, adores, or put his heart and soul into he won’t fight, argue or contest with others with large personalities, it's a waste of time and he absolutely detests wasting time with loud people.
Adler has a remarkable weakness for money. He loves money. He will work for anyone if they pay him enough and has been known, on more than a few occasions, to sell others out to the highest bidder. Adler loves everything about money, wealth and riches. After all, money is how he can build more and innovate on his previous creations, plus he likes booze, women and fine food. If you want something done money over honor is the best way to get his support and keeping him can sometimes get a little costly, though he has been known to also work for parts (though that’s usually because the parts have some exorbitant monetary value).
Biography: Nathaniel Pander and Naomi Stonerunner were, once, a very happy pair. At the start of their relationship their love was glorious and seemingly endless. Nathaniel was an amazing mechanic and smithy, said to be able to fix anything. He worked for the nobles of the humans to improve or create things of convenience for them or to repair vital parts of the city. He was a universal man being able to be a mechanic, plumber, farmer, meteorologist, biologist, physician, baker, veterinarian, and everything that seemed to be between. He was said to be able to help fix any sort of issue you had, whether it be your house was leaking or you were leaking!
Nathaniel was a genius, though he would never admit it, with a somewhat autistic way of living having a multitude of obsessive compulsive and sociopathic tendencies, though the one that always kept him all together was his childhood sweetheart the gorgeous and kindhearted Naomi with golden curls that that made all the noble ladies vehemently jealous.
At the seemingly height of his career as the universal gopher of the Kingdom he had his prodigy, Adler.
Adalyne Pander, his birth name, was beloved by his parents, in particular his father whom seemed to have an impossible time dealing with people. His son looked just like him and was just as smart. Nathaniel showed his love for his son by showing his son how to do what he did and it was through machine, contraptions, and inventions that the two bonded. Their innoventions were never super crazy astounding or new-age, however the two loved to craft together and truly bonded during those years. Still, till this day, Adler recalls those moments with his father as the most wonderful time of his entire life.
Years went on and the Pender name started to gain some popularity...But it also started to gain some jealousy and fear. There was a particular man, Crexius Whailton, and his wife Merine Whailton, who both started to grow some distaste and hatred for the family of mechanist. They feared they would invent something that would destroy their town. They would spit rumor and gossip about the family making some view them as freaks and, eventually, Nathaniel’s good reputation became a bad one.
Crexius managed to build up enough of a posse, all nobles, to raid the Pender and Stonerunner household. That was the day everything fell to pieces for Adler and his father. Adler, 14 at the time, was out looking for materials in the caves to melt down tools. When they returned home there was a large raiding party outside his home...However they were all quiet.
In an accident during a struggle of keeping them out of her home, Naomi was killed. Creixus, having been the one to accidentally kill her, had done so and made his friends keep it a secret and rile up the townsfolk throwing out of the house all the inventions and small tools that he said were the Devils’ making. Things like being able to push-cut grass or automatically sort objects by weight were called torture devices.
When Nathaniel and Adler arrived they questioned what happened and ran to their incapacitated and bleeding mother. Nathaniel, in an uncharacteristically rage, attacked Crexius, stabbing him, which caused the crowd to become all the more belligerent and, unfortunately, the noble of import managed to gain their favor and Nathaniel and Adler were forced to run out of the city having been thrown out.
Life was far different after that. They had to do the difficult task of requesting their mother’s body, though her family denied it blaming Nathaniel for her death, and they had to leave everything they owned in the city to go live in another one. Another one where they were not known. If not for his teenage son, Nathaniel would have ended his own life or fell into despair, but he kept one foot moving after the other his eyes glossy and mind elsewhere. Adler took after his father, feeding, bathing and clothing the man, and eventually the two found a small village to call their own.
His father became an alcohol, consuming only mead and rest, and he would be one for the rest of his days. Adler had to become the adult. He had to clean, cook and find work. Adler started to work odd jobs around the village, though it commonly wasn’t enough, so he would hunt small beasts at the beheasts of the small villages leadership and, eventually, he found himeslf swearing into the Journeyman trade to bring enough income to support himself and his father.
It was hard. A lot of days they didn’t have food and a lot of times they didn’t have warmth or water, but they travelled when they needed to and Adler did a lot of horrible things for money to make sure he could take care of his father. Not being able to be home all the time he had a caretaker take after his father and she moved in her family and eventually had children and, by the end of it, Adler had to work even harder to support and entire household of people. Adler became very money conscious, having to quickly grow up, but it was welcomed. The stress and duress of having to fight, often times wicked beasts, helped distract him from the fact that his mother was dead and...So was his father.
Adler’s house is a large, boisterous house. He has Rexa, the young caregiver that he asked to help his father. Rexa Landerhard ended up needing Adler’s help more than he needed hers and, wanting more than to help the woman, he allowed her to move her 4 children, Davis, Erikson, Elizabeth and Kylie, her husband, the very sickly Christof Landerhard, and her blind widowed mother Samona Berry and, of course, there is his drunk father. They all rely on Adler’s income, but they are all very grateful and Adler works hard for all of them as well as his father. He never regrets being home as the energy is always endless with the Landerhard family.
Currently, Adler does a mix of things by offering services to those that “live in the darkages” to say, those that need a Journeyman, as well as by selling weapons and equipment as he travels.
Equipment:
Crossbow Arm - Gatling Forebow ⇸ is the former name Adler made for the weapon. It is a sleek automatic crossbow machine that is from his right shoulder all the way down to his right wrist. Weapon is a complicated, heavily stocked weapon that fires 4 inch long darts, needles and explosives. It fires in rapid succession and Adler can fire with excellent aim. It is most commonly stocked with 4 inch dart-blades (or shortblades) that are 2 inches wide. It fires with enough concussive force that it can break/penetrate bones at point blank. The weapon is highly versatile, however it does not work well in dusty/dirty or wet areas as the olies that keep the barrel in operating order needs to be maintained.
Crossbow Arm - Gatlin Cartridge ⇸ are the loading cartridges that Adler carries with him. He generally only carries two of each type of cartridge and they are are loaded with different types of weapons. These cartridges are inserted into a slot behind the bicep of his Gatling Forebow. He has explosives charges, which light after being fired off and create a very small firework like explosion that is very bright, has fog bombs that light when fired off and create large gray smoky clouds, he has shortblade that fire off blades, needle attachment packed with a large number of penetrating needles and he has a cartridge with a hook and wire attachment that can be used to grab and pull a target or as a grappling hook.
Crossbow Arm - Oil ⇸ Simple, highly flammable oil that he uses. He is required to use this if he fires too many arrows in any one event. He has known to use it for other purposes. It is completely synthetic, though he has also been known to use other substances/organisms to supplement it.
Compound Bow - Eliza ⇸ A very complicated metallic manmade bow made of a series of bows, wheels and four different sights on it. Eliza, named after a pubescent crush, is a formidable weapons capable of firing, due to mechanical engineering advantage, solid and heavy arrows at substantial speeds, distances, and with colossal power with a hawkeye’s accuracy. Of all his weapons it is his favorite and it has been maintained and upgraded the most. It utilizes a series of mechanical pulleys and high end tech-wire to fire an arrow with destructive velocity that generally takes down most common beasts. Adler is completely proud of this weapon. It’s his baby. He even sleeps with the device. It looks almost alien in design, however it is completely man made, by his bare-hands, with lots of fire and hammering and intricate screwing. His aim with it is near perfect and that is due to the complicated mathematical scopes that he has attached.
Compound Bow Arrows ⇸ Due to their weight, being heavier than regular wooden arrows, he only makes and carries 15 of the compound arrows with him. These arrows are very thin, but they are made of solid steel from smithing and are tipped with iron. Generally, they are absolutely superior in form and design than regular arrows, though their heavy weight makes them best suited to the enforced compound bow. These arrows can penetrate hide, bone, wood, and even plated armor under most circumstances.
Multi-tool Lance - Gate ⇸ He refers to this 5 foot lance as his Gate. The Gate is a number of steel, iron, bronze, and obsidian. The lance is about 3 inches wide and has a very complicated design in which only certain parts are supposed to open when specific patterns, or combinations, are turned into the body of the lance. Gate is full of portable hammers, drives, hooks, measures, and other long and sharp ends to support his toolbox in building or putting something together. However, he has been known to fight with his Gate able to make the ordinarily dull looking lance have a driver at the top to transform it into a javelin or cause a ruler, driver and hook to come out to make it like a pitchfork for jamming into a target or even popping out the portable hammer at the top to slam on top of an enemies head! It is a last resort for him, as he is more capable at a bit of range, but he does wield the lance with enough skill to be lethal. The Gate does appear very awkward when he does use it as a weapon however it is built sturdy enough to handle being slammed around. Traditionally, he carries it on his back with his compound bow.
Wire ⇸ For general purposes, and because his main tools require wire upkeeping, he keeps a short wheel of wire with him. He can also use this wire for short traps or for hunting.
Flint Rock ⇸ For general purposes, he always carries flint with him. Never know when you may need a fire...Or explosives.
Toolbox ⇸ He has a box of general tools that are designed to upkeep his weapons, however he can use these tools to fix just about any general labor object. He is very crafty and very talented with putting things together or taking things apart.
Skills: Tech-savy, mechanical engineering, knowledge of metals, stones, as well as experience with weaponry, skilled with crafting, repairing, or improving on non-magical weapons. Magic: Misc: He has the ability to fix anything that is non-magical. He has strong engineering sense and, as such, is somewhat known among the Journeymen as The Mechanic
Well damn. That was faster than I expected. Someone means business, lol. Awesome though. I am excited when GMs are excited. Again, fantastic detail @Mag Lev you really put noticable effort into this. Really good job! I think there are a few things I need to catch up on in here and will edit my bio if necessary (though I tried being very nonspecific anyway).
Anyway, My character:
The Money-hungry Mechanic
Name: Adalayne "Adler" Pander Age: 27 Alias(es): The Mechanic Gender: Male Race: Human Appearance: Adler is very short standing at 5’6’’ and weighs 155 lbs making him pretty heavy for his short stature. Adler is very muscular and defined, which comes from a lot of the metal work he has to do. Adler is heavier uptop, having a broad well defined upper back, chest and arms from constant hammer, mining, and archery. His arms in particular are very veiny and hard, to outwardly demonstrate the years upon years of hard work and physical labor he has put them through. He has a great deal of upper body strength, able to lift a couple dozen pounds more than his own weight in ore and rock. From playing with so much fire, he has a very bronze tan. He has rich, bright auburn brown hair that is so deep a brown that it looks like a starking red when in the light. Adler, like his mother, has bright emerald green eyes that almost seem to glow in the dark.
Personality: Adler is good natured and seemingly, very respectful. He always knows his place when it comes to the lords and the ladies of the special, fancy noble houses as well as the fancy dressed members of the ancient families that are, usually, of some important somewhere. Adler tries his best to never step on anyone's toes or cause chaos. The boy hates drama. He hates arguing, thinking it is the most wasteful way to, well, waste time, and he hates having unnecessary complications. In fact, Adler hates anything that isn’t according to plan as, one, he has zero to no patience and, two, he doesn’t like to improvise.
Adler is prideful of things he owns, creates or makes for others and thinks that his art and contraptions are above tier from those others make, despite being very young. As an inventor, Adler would rather create a new way to make a process easier rather than waste time doing something a longer way, again he is impatient, but he is not stubborn. His inability to fight conflict traditionally lets him compensate and complement others. Adler is the sort of many that will do anything or say anything to get someone bothersome to stop being bothersome. As one would imagine, Adler is extremely judgmental and prejudiced and racist, but he mostly keeps his negative opinions to himself and is constantly known to brandish a fake smile that, most of the time, everyone can see as a fake smile.
Adler has a personality that seems lazy or spineless at a distance, but he is actually very hardworking and very confident and even cocky when it comes to things he is passionate about. Adler loves machines, technology and weaponry and is your usual nerd when it comes to showing them off or their display. Still, even over things he loves, adores, or put his heart and soul into he won’t fight, argue or contest with others with large personalities, it's a waste of time and he absolutely detests wasting time with loud people.
Adler has a remarkable weakness for money. He loves money. He will work for anyone if they pay him enough and has been known, on more than a few occasions, to sell others out to the highest bidder. Adler loves everything about money, wealth and riches. After all, money is how he can build more and innovate on his previous creations, plus he likes booze, women and fine food. If you want something done money over honor is the best way to get his support and keeping him can sometimes get a little costly, though he has been known to also work for parts (though that’s usually because the parts have some exorbitant monetary value).
Biography: Nathaniel Pander and Naomi Stonerunner were, once, a very happy pair. At the start of their relationship their love was glorious and seemingly endless. Nathaniel was an amazing mechanic and smithy, said to be able to fix anything. He worked for the nobles of the humans to improve or create things of convenience for them or to repair vital parts of the city. He was a universal man being able to be a mechanic, plumber, farmer, meteorologist, biologist, physician, baker, veterinarian, and everything that seemed to be between. He was said to be able to help fix any sort of issue you had, whether it be your house was leaking or you were leaking!
Nathaniel was a genius, though he would never admit it, with a somewhat autistic way of living having a multitude of obsessive compulsive and sociopathic tendencies, though the one that always kept him all together was his childhood sweetheart the gorgeous and kindhearted Naomi with golden curls that that made all the noble ladies vehemently jealous.
At the seemingly height of his career as the universal gopher of the Kingdom he had his prodigy, Adler.
Adalyne Pander, his birth name, was beloved by his parents, in particular his father whom seemed to have an impossible time dealing with people. His son looked just like him and was just as smart. Nathaniel showed his love for his son by showing his son how to do what he did and it was through machine, contraptions, and inventions that the two bonded. Their innoventions were never super crazy astounding or new-age, however the two loved to craft together and truly bonded during those years. Still, till this day, Adler recalls those moments with his father as the most wonderful time of his entire life.
Years went on and the Pender name started to gain some popularity...But it also started to gain some jealousy and fear. There was a particular man, Crexius Whailton, and his wife Merine Whailton, who both started to grow some distaste and hatred for the family of mechanist. They feared they would invent something that would destroy their town. They would spit rumor and gossip about the family making some view them as freaks and, eventually, Nathaniel’s good reputation became a bad one.
Crexius managed to build up enough of a posse, all nobles, to raid the Pender and Stonerunner household. That was the day everything fell to pieces for Adler and his father. Adler, 14 at the time, was out looking for materials in the caves to melt down tools. When they returned home there was a large raiding party outside his home...However they were all quiet.
In an accident during a struggle of keeping them out of her home, Naomi was killed. Creixus, having been the one to accidentally kill her, had done so and made his friends keep it a secret and rile up the townsfolk throwing out of the house all the inventions and small tools that he said were the Devils’ making. Things like being able to push-cut grass or automatically sort objects by weight were called torture devices.
When Nathaniel and Adler arrived they questioned what happened and ran to their incapacitated and bleeding mother. Nathaniel, in an uncharacteristically rage, attacked Crexius, stabbing him, which caused the crowd to become all the more belligerent and, unfortunately, the noble of import managed to gain their favor and Nathaniel and Adler were forced to run out of the city having been thrown out.
Life was far different after that. They had to do the difficult task of requesting their mother’s body, though her family denied it blaming Nathaniel for her death, and they had to leave everything they owned in the city to go live in another one. Another one where they were not known. If not for his teenage son, Nathaniel would have ended his own life or fell into despair, but he kept one foot moving after the other his eyes glossy and mind elsewhere. Adler took after his father, feeding, bathing and clothing the man, and eventually the two found a small village to call their own.
His father became an alcohol, consuming only mead and rest, and he would be one for the rest of his days. Adler had to become the adult. He had to clean, cook and find work. Adler started to work odd jobs around the village, though it commonly wasn’t enough, so he would hunt small beasts at the beheasts of the small villages leadership and, eventually, he found himeslf swearing into the Journeyman trade to bring enough income to support himself and his father.
It was hard. A lot of days they didn’t have food and a lot of times they didn’t have warmth or water, but they travelled when they needed to and Adler did a lot of horrible things for money to make sure he could take care of his father. Not being able to be home all the time he had a caretaker take after his father and she moved in her family and eventually had children and, by the end of it, Adler had to work even harder to support and entire household of people. Adler became very money conscious, having to quickly grow up, but it was welcomed. The stress and duress of having to fight, often times wicked beasts, helped distract him from the fact that his mother was dead and...So was his father.
Adler’s house is a large, boisterous house. He has Rexa, the young caregiver that he asked to help his father. Rexa Landerhard ended up needing Adler’s help more than he needed hers and, wanting more than to help the woman, he allowed her to move her 4 children, Davis, Erikson, Elizabeth and Kylie, her husband, the very sickly Christof Landerhard, and her blind widowed mother Samona Berry and, of course, there is his drunk father. They all rely on Adler’s income, but they are all very grateful and Adler works hard for all of them as well as his father. He never regrets being home as the energy is always endless with the Landerhard family.
Currently, Adler does a mix of things by offering services to those that “live in the darkages” to say, those that need a Journeyman, as well as by selling weapons and equipment as he travels.
Equipment:
Crossbow Arm - Gatling Forebow ⇸ is the former name Adler made for the weapon. It is a sleek automatic crossbow machine that is from his right shoulder all the way down to his right wrist. Weapon is a complicated, heavily stocked weapon that fires 4 inch long darts, needles and explosives. It fires in rapid succession and Adler can fire with excellent aim. It is most commonly stocked with 4 inch dart-blades (or shortblades) that are 2 inches wide. It fires with enough concussive force that it can break/penetrate bones at point blank. The weapon is highly versatile, however it does not work well in dusty/dirty or wet areas as the olies that keep the barrel in operating order needs to be maintained.
Crossbow Arm - Gatlin Cartridge ⇸ are the loading cartridges that Adler carries with him. He generally only carries two of each type of cartridge and they are are loaded with different types of weapons. These cartridges are inserted into a slot behind the bicep of his Gatling Forebow. He has explosives charges, which light after being fired off and create a very small firework like explosion that is very bright, has fog bombs that light when fired off and create large gray smoky clouds, he has shortblade that fire off blades, needle attachment packed with a large number of penetrating needles and he has a cartridge with a hook and wire attachment that can be used to grab and pull a target or as a grappling hook.
Crossbow Arm - Oil ⇸ Simple, highly flammable oil that he uses. He is required to use this if he fires too many arrows in any one event. He has known to use it for other purposes. It is completely synthetic, though he has also been known to use other substances/organisms to supplement it.
Compound Bow - Eliza ⇸ A very complicated metallic manmade bow made of a series of bows, wheels and four different sights on it. Eliza, named after a pubescent crush, is a formidable weapons capable of firing, due to mechanical engineering advantage, solid and heavy arrows at substantial speeds, distances, and with colossal power with a hawkeye’s accuracy. Of all his weapons it is his favorite and it has been maintained and upgraded the most. It utilizes a series of mechanical pulleys and high end tech-wire to fire an arrow with destructive velocity that generally takes down most common beasts. Adler is completely proud of this weapon. It’s his baby. He even sleeps with the device. It looks almost alien in design, however it is completely man made, by his bare-hands, with lots of fire and hammering and intricate screwing. His aim with it is near perfect and that is due to the complicated mathematical scopes that he has attached.
Compound Bow Arrows ⇸ Due to their weight, being heavier than regular wooden arrows, he only makes and carries 15 of the compound arrows with him. These arrows are very thin, but they are made of solid steel from smithing and are tipped with iron. Generally, they are absolutely superior in form and design than regular arrows, though their heavy weight makes them best suited to the enforced compound bow. These arrows can penetrate hide, bone, wood, and even plated armor under most circumstances.
Multi-tool Lance - Gate ⇸ He refers to this 5 foot lance as his Gate. The Gate is a number of steel, iron, bronze, and obsidian. The lance is about 3 inches wide and has a very complicated design in which only certain parts are supposed to open when specific patterns, or combinations, are turned into the body of the lance. Gate is full of portable hammers, drives, hooks, measures, and other long and sharp ends to support his toolbox in building or putting something together. However, he has been known to fight with his Gate able to make the ordinarily dull looking lance have a driver at the top to transform it into a javelin or cause a ruler, driver and hook to come out to make it like a pitchfork for jamming into a target or even popping out the portable hammer at the top to slam on top of an enemies head! It is a last resort for him, as he is more capable at a bit of range, but he does wield the lance with enough skill to be lethal. The Gate does appear very awkward when he does use it as a weapon however it is built sturdy enough to handle being slammed around. Traditionally, he carries it on his back with his compound bow.
Wire ⇸ For general purposes, and because his main tools require wire upkeeping, he keeps a short wheel of wire with him. He can also use this wire for short traps or for hunting.
Flint Rock ⇸ For general purposes, he always carries flint with him. Never know when you may need a fire...Or explosives.
Toolbox ⇸ He has a box of general tools that are designed to upkeep his weapons, however he can use these tools to fix just about any general labor object. He is very crafty and very talented with putting things together or taking things apart.
Skills: Tech-savy, mechanical engineering, knowledge of metals, stones, as well as experience with weaponry, skilled with crafting, repairing, or improving on non-magical weapons. Magic: Misc: He has the ability to fix anything that is non-magical. He has strong engineering sense and, as such, is somewhat known among the Journeymen as The Mechanic
The only real issue I have with it is the Compound Bow, Eliza, and The Gate. I believe the bow is a bit beyond what the current society would be able to do considering it would require working the metal into that specific shape, designing the pulleys to fit just right into the bow, and creating the wire in the first place. Creating thin, metal wire that would work properly would be difficult to obtain, even for a prodigy, due to its thin nature, the quality of forges, and the amount of flexibility it has. I also don't quite understand how the Gate works. It is a 3 inch wide, 5 foot long lance that holds his tools? I'm not quite sure if I understand how that works since fitting the tools into it would be a rather advanced design for the kind of tech they have.
Other than that, it looks good. Though, I am on the fence for the Gatling forebow as well since, even at this time, such a tool would require a crank to fire.
Gotcha. I will adjust the tech. I will let you know when I have finished the edits.
Although, if possible, I would like to keep at least the crossbow?
I'm fine with the idea of having a crossbow, I just don't believe the tech is capable of supporting it. It'd be a crank operated crossbow at best otherwise the tools its uses are fine. But that is probably the most advanced it can get.
I'm working on a character. @Mag Lev What are the limits of rune magic for the average person?
Most Rune magic is limited to elemental magic, generally with a base design coming from Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Light, Dark, and Spark Runes. The average user of Rune magic generally specializes in one of the types then does modifications to the rune from there. Those who wish to specialize in something beyond such as using rune magic for physical or mental protection are rare and specialize in air-light most of the time. Most runes are only used in a short burst, five seconds at least, rather than continuous usage which would drain them physically faster than the short burst. Since it is physically and mentally draining to use Runes, most casters are physically fit or meditate to maintain their self.
Most Rune magic is limited to elemental magic, generally with a base design coming from Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Light, Dark, and Spark Runes. The average user of Rune magic generally specializes in one of the types then does modifications to the rune from there. Those who wish to specialize in something beyond such as using rune magic for physical or mental protection are rare and specialize in air-light most of the time. Most runes are only used in a short burst, five seconds at least, rather than continuous usage which would drain them physically faster than the short burst. Since it is physically and mentally draining to use Runes, most casters are physically fit or meditate to maintain their self.
How are they used, practically speaking. Tattoos, inscribed on items/weapons?
How are they used, practically speaking. Tattoos, inscribed on items/weapons?
Some use tattoos, some inscribe them on weapons or items. For example, a Journeyman could inscribe a light rune on a rock and toss it, activate it and produce a small burst of light. The items generally place the effect on the object while the tattoos allow you to direct the effect to another surface.
Since I work quite a bit over the next few days, the easiest place to reach me with be on this Discord since it is easy to access from my phone. If you need anything from me, just ping me and I'll respond as soon as I can.
Arthur is twenty six years old, the peak of his life.
Race:
Despite his rumored blue blood as a nobleman, Arthur is Human.
Appearance:
Arthur stands at a respectable 6'1, with a muscular build one would expect of a warrior of his ilk. He's a fairly large guy, but he keeps a lean slender-esque build, so he's hardly the biggest soldier in a company. His features are well defined, yet regal and exquisite, he's a good looking man, as is expected from a man of his status. His skin is free from the normal blemishes of the working class, his face is a light bronze hue from the hours in the sun - a much cleaner and paler look than the peasants or common folk of the land.
Well groomed and well thought out facial hair sculpted by the best barber in the city. His hair is always cut by that very same barber, as opposed to being thorn from working. Arthur normally wears expensive clothing made out of the finest fabrics, silk and the like. His tunics are always well washed, unless they've recently gotten stained. His leggings often carry some sort of hardened leather pieces to them, and he always wears a leather jacket with reinforced patches on his arms, chest and back. On his right shoulder is a leather shoulder pad with his family crest - The Diamond Lion. Boots matching the leggings and jacket are always to match. On his waist hangs his sword sheath. A dagger is safely secured on the other side of his waist, and a smaller dagger is hidden in his boot.
His armor he wears while out for war is modest if not for the special engravings in the trim of the armor, it looks really nothing special from the average knight's. A full set of plate with a chainmail base and leather accents, a tabard with no direct markings on, as to not draw attention. It's not the heaviest of armors, and as such provides poor protection against arrows or spears, but it does allow him to move fast enough to handle himself in more than a few sword fights.
Personality:
Arthur is a well spoken and well educated man. It shows in the words he chooses to speak - well, on occasion. It's not true to say that Arthur tends to piss people off, but if a gentleman would accuse Arthur of having pissed him off, few would find that hard to believe. A Nobleman, a knight by trade and a prince by birth, Arthur's not always the paragon people would expect. He's a lover at heart, and a enormous flirt, his favorite saying is 'I've yet to find a woman I've not fallen in love with'. Which largely holds true, his wish for romance has no borders, it does not care for status in the society, current romantic situation, professions, country or even race. This affinity for love gets him into trouble more often than not, combined with the rebellious air around him, he's often one to get into spats with his fellow knights, noblemen or into an old fashioner tavern brawl. Unlike his brothers and his father, Arthur spends a fair amount of time with the common folk - he earned his nickname ' The Golden Prince' by buying enough rounds at the various taverns, and is as such generally in high standing with the peasants of the kingdoms in his father's domain. Well, as well standing as royalty can have. Due to his dipping his toe in the gutter, he's got a lot of street smart, and is more than likely prone to make morally questionable choices, not always in the pursuit of love, sometimes only for a laugh. For a royalty, he does care awfully much about the common man, and a early fascination with the Journeymen and their Order have always made him aspire to be something of a hero. Often to his detriment.
Backstory:
Born to possibly the least humble beginings imaginable, Arthur is the third son of Queen Mavi and King Erik Stoltson, the current regent of the Gaelia. His older brothers are Robin, the Crown Prince, and the middle child, Jakob. Arthur grew up well, a safe home far from the conflicts of the common man, pandered to at every turn and every desire he ever had served to him. But, this was not the destiny Arthur sought to carve for himself. The young prince demanded to be treated just like his brothers - not to be pampered, but spurred to become a warrior, A knight, in fact, and a damn good one at that.
This was an attitude he held from early childhood, he was imitating his brothers and their sword practicing as soon as he had learned to walk, and once it was his turn to pick up the blade and be called Apprentice to the wide array of master warriors whom frequented his father's courts. His greatest teacher is his namesake, his father's best friend, and his mother's brother, Sir Arthur Goldwin. Goldwin trained Arthur from he was five years old, putting him through various trials and tests before he was allowed to pick up a blade. He was 14 when he was dubbed Jakob's squire, Jakob had become a Knight a few years prior, having been Robin's squire in turn. Arthur spent equal time with Jakob, being at his side, observing him, helping him when he could.
Notably, their incident at the Prydwen Inn in the outer parts of the Gaelia realm, where they ran into the Red Scorpion Bandit gang, where Arthur earned his first battle scar, and Jakob got to test his mettle is still whispered about in the small village of Prydwen.
Once he got into the back end of his teenage years, his training was coming to it's end, earlier than his brothers had, speaking to Arthur's natural talent as a fighter, albeit he lacked the charisma and constitution of his brothers, skipping training to go hang out with other people his age, people from the common folk. This continued well into his Adult years, more likely to be seen in one of the many Pubs of the Gaelia Capital than he was attending his father's court.
He was 24 when he was knighted, beating out Jakob by two years, and Robin by one. He was given his own estate in any place of his choosing, so he decided he would make his own home one where he had truly found his start - in Prydwen. Thus, Arthur became known as Arthur Of Prydwen, The Golden Prince as he brought reform and prosperity with him to the small village. The village's location on the borders to the smaller nation of Redoria also helped Arthur's personal relationship with the court of Redoria, while worsening his already troubled relation wtih his own court, specifically the son of one of the under kings of Gaelia, The Rollfs Court, a proud court and the Patriarch of the Rollfs court, Udyn, was often criticizing Arthur's father and his way of ruling the nation of Gaelia.
The nation of Redoria was caught in a skirmish with the Gregorian Nation, one of the smaller independent nations within Gaelia's realm, one backed by the house of Rollf. Redoria's Queen, Jachie, reached out to Arthur and begged the prince to lend his aid, to call for his father's army and smite the Gregorian's forces. Arthur asked his father for his aid, but Udyn and his son, Maxwell, Arthur's rival growing up, quickly prompted his father not not lend the Redorian army their aid. An all out war, and Gaelia picking sides would look poorly and threaten the delicate balance of the nation.
Arthur was left on his own. So, instead of being the good son, he did not listen to his father's court, but took action on his own. His Garrison of 100 or so men strong rode across the border the lend the queen their aid. With promises of it being the finest men in all of Gaelia - while in reality they were mostly just farmers Arthur had spent a couple of weeks instructing on martial art. (In all fairness, a lot of armies are educated a lot worse.) Or bandits whom had quit their thieving way once Arthur had put his shining blade to their throat.
The Battle of The Eclipse, as the battle took place on the day of a solar eclipse, ended bloody. Arthur's garrison was in shatters, Redoria's army likewise, but the Gregorians were beaten back and their grasp around Queen Jachie's neck was lifted.
Once the news of this display of utter disrespect for the Court, spearheaded by the prince himself spread across the land, his father was put in quite the tight spot. Jakob explained away his brother's irrationality, to try and appease the court. Arthur was but a young knight, not yet aware of the difficulties of the real world. Robin on the other hand, was not so lenient on his brother, Udyn and Maxwell pressured King Erik to take action.
So Erik did, he revoked Arthur's right to the Prydwyn estate, instead putting the estate under the control of Maxwell, to repay the Rollf house for their losses caused by his son's impulsiveness.
Arthur spent the next couple of years pissing people in the court off, hanging about the capital - taking any war effort he could find to bloody his blade. And drinking and fucking his time away. Well, that is, till it came to his knowledge that Maxwell had burned down much of the town of Prydwyn. The people had been unable to pay his insanely high tax, and therefor, he had burned down their homes to teach them a lesson.
Arthur could not let this stand, and began undercutting Maxwell and his father at every turn he could. Udyn was going to rue the day he ever crossed Arthur Stoltson. He challenged Maxwell to a Knight's Challenge for the estate of Prydwyn - the estate was basically worthless after the arson, but it was a matter of pride and honor for the two young Knights. Maxwell accepted Arthur's challenge and a Torney spectacle took place in the capital, where Arthur beat down Maxwell without pause. Maxwell was a man who only knew politics, who was truly only a knight in name, wore his armor for show and his sword was little more than a prop to spread his influence. Arthur was a real warrior, one who had bled for his beliefs, taken many lives in the name of saving more.
The duel concluded with Arthur being the victor, and winning the estate, the first step towards regaining his honor came with the humiliation of Maxwell. His father, however, was a hardened warrior. One who had fought side by side with Erik and Goldwin. But Udyn was not above underhanded tactics, and one Arthur was back in Prydwyn, bandit attacks were more and more common, the village being raided time and time again, making it all but impossible for the Prince to rebuild his home. Realizing the Rollf House was at the source of his grief, he began working on a plan to root them out, one that would land him in far deeper trouble than he had ever been before.
Magic:
The Royal Rune; Everything in the capital has a lock - the treasury, the warroom, the personal quarters of the King. And this rune on his forearm is the key.
Shield of Goran; A Runespell passed down from his great ancestor St.Goran the Dragonslayer. The rune was supposedly what Goran used to protect himself from the fires of the Dragons. A Light and Air rune, it creates a directional shield around the user. Arthur's rune is placed on his shoulder and is capable of parrying otherwise fatal hits while draining his stamina in the process. More elegant uses are going in for an attack on a foe whom is also attacking, and using the shield to deflect the incoming blow while carrying on with his own.
Skills:
Swordsmanship; First and foremost, Arthur is a man of the blade. He's been fighting with a weapon since as long as he's been big enough to old one. Few can bring Arthur pause when it comes to matching steel, even fewer whom he does not share blood with. His swift but deadly skills are hard to match, much thanks to the great masters he have had, being a squire to his oldest brother, he honed the art of war alongside the other princes. Arthur's style relies on grace matched equally with power. Precision and ferocity, a man who can cut an inch deep with a bastard sword - or cut off your arm with a buttering knife. He favors longswords for their equal matching power to speed, as they are most fitting for his style. While he is most versed in blades, he is no stranger to blunts. Maces, hammers or flails are all weapons he's trained in using - while far from as skilled as with his knife.
Martial Arts; As previously mentioned, Arthur is well versed in the art of war, both as a combatant and as a commander. While he never was given as large commands as his brothers - never one to lead entire armies, he's got a lot of technical knowledge, he was trained the same way his siblings were, but has yet to fully put them to use.
Hunting Arthur's a decent hunter. He knows the basics of tracking animals, he's a OK shot with a bow. Hardly fit for using it in combat, though. But, in a pinch he's able to hit a deer, or even a bird.
Equipment:
The Dandelion Blade; A sword created by the masterswordsmith Airon Bronzebeard, the royal Blacksmith of the Garneic Court. The Dandelion Blade is the fourth sword Airon created for the Stoltson family, the first being for his father, the other two for his older brothers once they had passed their time as squires and had become knights. The Dandelion Blade is a typical longsword, with the imprint of a Dandelion just above the hilt - a flower that Arthur picked as a young man, during his first battle he was hit in the head by a mace. Thankfully, his helmet protected him. He was almost knocked out cold. And the only thing he remember seeing on the ground was the trampled dandelions.
He survived that battle, earned a scar for it and plenty of experience. Besides the marking feature of the dandelion, the blade has a very regal look to it, a well crafted hilt, a the finest grip one could want so the blade never leaves Arthur's hand, and armed with the Royal Key Rune, to avoid the weapon being stolen.
The Armor Of St.Goran The armor of Saint Goran the Dragonslayer of many generations past. While only the helm is technically that of Goran, the rest of the armor has been reconstructed to match what the Dragonslayer's armor had looked like. Some alterations have been made at the request of the prince.
Renegade His chestnut colored stead. Renegade is one of the finest horses in the land, while not the fastest, the horse has incredible stamina and a fiery personality. Renegade carries the brunt of Arthur's goods, such as his spear, claymore, shield and hunting bow. And of course necessities such as bedroll and a pot to cook water in. Renegade's saddle and saddlebags are affected by the Royal Rune, and as such are as secure as the vaults of the royal palace.
Misc:
King Erik Stoltson The Brave, Monarch of Gaelia. Son of Stolt and Emilia, Erik became king at the feeble age of 14, the country in a war and for the most part everything was going to hell in a handbasket. Erik's the reason the hold has kept The Order and their Journeymen around, using their services to keep the streets somewhat clean and purge the lands of monsters. Erik himself trained under a Journeyman master, and is as such very much so a believer in the Order, which is not very common these days. Erik is 59 years old today and as healthy as ever.
Queen Mavi, Daugher Of Borst The Great, Wife Of Erik The Brave and Mother Of The Three Princes. Queen Mavi is a Arcane Magician, who's arcane skills are held back by her duties in the court. Her Father was a very influential lord, whom had set his sights on Mavi marrying into one of the smaller Kingdoms, so his bloodline could one day rule them. But Mavi and Erik fell in love young, soon after Erik had become king. Mavi is 55 years old, but looks not a day over 40.
Sir Artheim Goldwin Of The Pale Forest, Son Of Borst The Great, Former Commander Of The Golden Eagles Art's a halfling, the result of Borst's affair with an elfwoman that caused much controversy five decades ago. Not that it was unusual for noblemen to have halfbreeds, but it was unheard of for one to take responsibility and name one their ward. Artheim is a longtime friend, confidante and advisor to King Erik, and is much of the reason for the union between Mavi and Erik, much to his father's chagrin. He's a honorable knight, and an excellent swordsman having been one of Arthur's many instructors. He's currently retired after a life in the intelligence business, residing in his estate in the Pale Forest, a forest where the trees are all as white as frost and the snow falls for most of the year, having made it a safe haven for Elves.
Sir Robin Lucas Stolston Of Cortnico, Crown Prince Of Gaelia, General Of the Royal Army Crown Prince, older brother. Robin is 38 years old, Lord of the hold of Cortnico. General Of the 11th to 23rd batallion of the Royal Army, totalling 8,000 Men under his command. A Moral pillar of the country and the golden standard for all Knights within Gaelia, Robin is everything King Erik could have hoped for in a son, and more. Robin's taken a pretty stern stand against slavery, something that always causes quite the ruckus in the court, he's favorable to the Elves and Dwarves and is responsible for much of their betterment in terms of standard of living.
Sir Jakob Lucian Stolstson Of Vertico, Prince Of Gaelia and Commander Of The Golden Eagles. Jakob's an esteemed knight, second only to his older brother. He taught Arthur everything Arthur needed to know about heroism, chivalry and true strength. Jakob's been the man Arthur grew up looking up to, Robin being too busy with his own duties to pay much attention to the youngest of the princes. Jakob is today 35 years old and is the leader of the Golden Eagles, the Royal Intelligence Service. With his finger on the pulse of the realm, nothing gets past him and his wide network of informants. He does not control an army, and the numbers of Golden Eagles Agents is relatively small, but he's just as capable of toppling a country as Robin and the Royal Army are. Jakob is secretly against Slavery and wishes it to be abolished, much like his father, but he's a sly man and remains on the fence as to not upset the nobles, unlike his brother. Jakob works frequently with the dwarves, but is distrustful of Elves.
Race Human Personality First thing you see about Jukka is definitely not his eyes. Being 213cm tall (7ft) and weighing around 150kg (330pounds) along with a thick, long beard and menacing eyes, not many can stand his gaze. The world would be a much better place if you could call him a giant with a heart of gold but he ain't. He has taken countless lives, be them lives of men, women or children, he will not hesitate. Never did really, except for the few years of his long life when he was happy.
He is afraid of no man. Never have been, never will be. But monsters? Now, monsters are a completely different thing. He's seen many, fought them but never got used to them, there's something unnatural about them that he just can't accept.
Until now, Jukka had been a killer. A merciless, cold blooded killer. Well, he still is one yet nowadays he's only after those he considers evil, those who he thinks will bring him closer to being worthy of meeting his family, in the afterlife. His twisted logic makes every single life prone to his whims. On his bad days.
He's also an alcoholic. A life such as his can't really be dealt with without alcohol or something to take the thinking away. When it gets too hard, when he starts getting flashbacks, that's when you'll see him drink the most or join the fray with no fear.
He doesn't really value his life, after all. He's old, he's tired and he just wants to be done with this hell they call living. If he can just do enough good to see his family again, he'll be the happiest man in the world.
Jukka can be called somewhat bipolar. Or moody, depending on who you ask. Some days, he's a wise old man who just wants to repent, get rid of some of his sins. Other days, he's the Juggernaut, you can practically see the bloodlust in his eyes, dancing widly from man to man, calculating angles of attack, timings, anything really.
To conclude, Jukka is indeed a man of low intelligence yet of immense experience. He will do anything for his so called repentance, his flawed logic dictating that the more of those he defines as evil he kills, the more worthy he'll become. He does not and probably can not understand that he won't find absolution through his acts, be they good or bad but from within.
Until then, killing is his truth.
Biography
Jukka was born in the heart of winter, in a shabby ol' hut his family owned, last of four children and with a knack for eating much more than his share dictated. They weren't poor, being considered poor would be a blessing for their little struggling family since the frozen land couldn't give them enough to last a winter and there's only so much prey in the never-ending Everwood. Not that his father, Bjorg, would dare venture deep into the lands of the knife-ears although necessity did eventually make them do just that, with deadly results as his older brother Enki was gravely injured by a black bear.
His sickly mother, Noomi, died the following summer and a few weeks after her demise, her eldest, Sifkur, left their desolate little house wanting to find a better future. Anything really, would be better than that life. Eventually, he was robbed and killed.
Jukka on the other hand, survived winter after winter along with his father and his sister, Ashelga. The blood of his ancestors was obvious in him, with his imposing physique and immense strength before he even reached 15 winters of age as he, like his father, came from a long line of warriors. He was well versed in the way of the axe and the sword, of shields and tactics in the battlefield.
After all, his father Bjorg had shed blood fighting all kinds of enemies. From the patrols of Gaelia or Haedrion to bandits, highwaymen, monsters, innocents, anyone who stood in his way really. He eventually formed and led his own band of killers and thiefs and terrorised whoever he could, always careful not to annoy the Empires nor any force greater than his. After a particularly bloody skirmish against a caravan though and a little more than three dozen dead soldiers along with many traders and the gruesome torture and subsequent murder of an influential noble's bride, his and his band's luck ran out. They were eventually massacred down to the last man by a professional mercenary company although Bjorg did manage to hide until it was all over, an act he never felt guilty of despite his countless speeches about honor and loyalty to his now dead comrades.
By age 17, Jukka was ready to either best the world or be bested by it. He knew that leaving his old father and his sister alone was most likely a death sentence but his ambition was burning far too strongly, he wanted to travel and he wanted to fight. He said his goodbyes, accepted War-Fang, a two-handed axe passed down for generations and went on his way with everything he thought he'd ever need, good knowledge of living in the wilds, a proper weapon and the skill to use it effectively. To be honest, in these ages, you don't need much more.
He spent many months as a hired blade, guarding caravans, nobles, livestock but never staying in one place long. He had a few good brawls, earned his fair share of scars and coppers yet he kept on moving, burning his money on women and mead, his downfall as it would prove later on.
A few good years later, having made a name for himself among commoners, Jukka had gotten cocky, a deadly trait for someone who bets his life on his blade pretty much daily. After one particularly heavy drinking session, he woke up covered in blood and two dead women next to him, a crime he didn't wonder whether he actually committed but knew that would end his life as he knew it. Soon enough, he was named a murderer and got a bounty on his head for two whole silver Dahls, a bounty he'd gladly go after if it wasn't for his own head.
Jukka, of course, wouldn't just sit idle and wait to be driven to the hangman so he became a bandit himself and joined the first ragtag band of cutthroats he found, not that he gave them much choice. After they fell apart, sometimes literally, due to monsters or men, he found others. Then he moved on to the next one and the next one for many moons until he decided to make his own, like his father, and earned his living by threatening, pillaging, murdering or just plain stealing. No one would really stand up to him or his men, they had surely earned their reputation as merciless.
The Juggernaut, they called him after he once impaled a man by charging him with his horned helmet. His axe was stuck on a skull and it was too late to draw his blade as the man was already pulling an arrow out of his quiver.
Bloodbeard, after he pulled his head away from that poor sod's innards. Jukka's usually light brown beard now had a deep crimson shade.
By age 38, Jukka's head was worth 30 silver Dahls. And he was proud of it yet the years on his back started to show their effects. He wasn't as bloodthirsty nor as cruel as he used to be. Hell, he even showed mercy on occasion. He'd prefer targeting bandits and gangs than villages and hamlets. His captains didn't take that well although none of them dare speak of betrayal, Jukka wasn't someone any one of them could best.
On a particularly warm night, Jukka and his men raided a bandit encampment. Not too much of a fight nor loot but it would be a night to remember as that was the time he met Erinya, a woman the slain men had captured and quite literally used. She was in a terrible state and many of his men pleaded for him to just end her, knowing his brutal nature, yet she woke something in him he never ever knew before. He carried her himself and used every last bit of his knowledge about wounds and herbs to nurse her back to health. Minds though, he didn't know how to heal so instead of being the loud brute he was used to be, he remained silent and just listened. From her sobs in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep, to her curses and screams in her sleep. Not much else was said. He did offer her freedom but she had nowhere to go, her family had been slain. He offered her a place in any village she wished yet she wanted nothing to do with society anymore. So she stayed with him and as the months passed, they grew closer, a broken beauty like her and a beast like him.
It wasn't long before she bore his child and Jukka felt like a new man. She hated his brutish ways so he did his absolute best to change them. From being the scourge of those lands he was now protecting them. That, of course, didn't sit well with the rest of his men who called her a witch behind her back and were certain that their leader was under her devilish influence. So they planned and conspired for months, trying to figure out a way to break her hold on him while keeping him from turning against them. Yet they didn't get their chance as Jukka himself announced that he was leaving with his future bride and their unborn child, something which they accepted.
They travelled for days, to places Jukka had never been before, he always preferred the cold mountains and thick forests to the warm valleys. Yet he did it for her. They settled in a cozy little hut bordering parts of the Everwood he didn't know and that's where they built a new life for both of them. Jukka buried his axe and everything reminding him of his old life and she buried her traumas, to the best of her ability.
A couple of months later, little Hope was born, his daughter. Shortly followed by Delph, his son and Hope's twin brother.
And Jukka was happier than he had ever been, holding his children in his huge hands. He was living a dream, the crops were good, the weather was nice and sunny and he couldn't get enough of his wife and his children. But dreams have a nasty way of turning into nightmares, sometimes, don't they?
Jukka still had a bounty of 30 silver Dahls. And his former comrades came in force to collect. He was out hunting when they fell upon his wife and took away her pride, her sanity and lastly, her life. They impaled her on a spear and left her outside their hut, the crying of her children an elegy for a woman they'd never really know.
If they had survived, that is.
Jukka always wondered who the true monsters really were. Was he better than the wolf or the wraith which lived by instinct while men chose to do unspeakable Evil. The smell of fire shook him down to his core. There weren't any settlements close enough other than his home. He ran through that thick forest faster than he had ever ran before and the closer he got the more he felt his heart sink deep into his chest. His Erinya was the first thing he saw. Then his burning hut and maybe, just maybe, he was never sure, his babies crying.
And an army between him and them.
He didn't hesitate. He still had an axe and a bow with him. The first three men to charge him fell dead by his arrows. He didn't wait for the rest to come, he charged them head on and let me tell you, that was a sight to behold. The Juggernaut, charging down against impossible odds. He never learned how many he killed that day or whether the blood dripping down his body was his or theirs. Or how many ran for their lives at the sight of the terrifying brute, screaming at the top of his lungs for vengeance and retribution.
He was only a man. And no man can escape fate. He fought through the agony caused by the countless wounds on his body until the first spear went through his guts. He still took the head of the one who pierced him. The sword between his ribs though rendered him breathless. The sight of his dead lover was the last thing he saw before the blackness took him.
He woke up a few days later, bandaged and sheltered amongst Elves, the knife-ears as he called them until then. One of their patrols attacked the bandits as they were ready to impale his body too and saved his life through witchcraft and the elven ways. He left them the moment he could stand and if not for Aunas, one of their trackers, he'd never find his way out of Everwood. He spent three days and three nights mourning his family, weeping like a child for the first time in his life. On the fourth, he set their funeral pyres ablaze and dug out his axe.
He spent the following year completely dismantling his former gang, leaving a trail of bodies behind him. He wasn't a man anymore, he could feel it. He didn't go after his men. He went after everything they ever loved, he knew them well enough to do that. Families, friends, inns they liked, hidden camps, everything. He murdered countless innocents before the fell upon them like disease. He left his captains for last and for three days they suffered at his hands. When he was done, he cleaned himself and drank more mead than he ever had, trying to lose his head with good ol' alcohol. When he woke up, he had absolutely no clue what was next for him, he was pretty sure that he'd die there.
But he lived.
He let his beard grow and got back in fighting shape. Sharpened his axe and looted the bodies for armor, not that it really fit him but he made due. With his axe on his back and an iron shield alongside a sword, he made his way home and took an oath in front of his wife and children to fix it. To become what she wanted him to be and be worthy of them, maybe in the afterlife. Seeing them just once more, would do, if he could only earn it.
He joined the Order of the Traveller, he always liked the stories about this God, he seemed the most human out of the many deities people put their faith in. After that, he simply did his best to help absolutely everyone in need. From plowing a field to helping an old lady with a rat problem. A fair amount of killing too but never against the weak, not anymore. As for his payment? A warm bed, food and drink. That's all he wanted.
As for coin, he looted those who had no use for it anymore and he let some street urchins steal it from him, acting drunk or just gave it away sometimes, to the widows. Not everyone lives, after all.
Equipment: (Armor, Weapons, Etc.) •War-fang: Jukka's trusty two-handed axe has served him better than anything and anyone else. An old family heirloom which served his father in countless skirmishes, probably worth more money than he ever had or will have in his hands. He treats it better than he treated any living being, carefully applying various oils on it or sharpening it or even training with it. •Ironback: His shield which is almost his height in order to cover from his shoulders to his knees. •Armor: Generic iron armor along with his infamous helmet. •Weapons: Since Bjorg doesn't give just about everyone the honor of using War-Fang, a generic iron sword or an axe will do. He doesn't specifically care about these weapons as he usually loots the dead for better equipment. And valuables. And any spare coin will do really, mead is expensive these days.
•Misc: His flask made of bone, medicinal herbs, hunting supplies, various leather pouches where he stores money, valuables, trinkets and the middle finger bones of his family, like tradition demands, for protection.
Skills •Master tracker when sober, quite a skilled botanist too. •Has been hunting since he was 8 years old. Knows how to survive in the wilds plus he can deal with wounds. He is no surgeon but he can take care of his body. •Battle-hardened veteran, you don't get to reach 44 years of age in his profession without being a damn fine warrior. Or one lucky bastard, both will do. He has seen things that would drive a commoner crazy and he has their teeth in his trophy pouch most likely. His experience against all sort of enemies along with his brutish strength and imposing physique make him a scary opponent for anyone in these lands and a really sought after mercenary by traders, nobles, anyone really. But, his drinking habits along with his somewhat troubling behaviour have made him starve more than once. •He can empty a mead barrel in 270 heartbeats. •Way of the Berserker: Jukka's unique battle form has been passed down his family for generations and allows him to completely give in to his bloodlust and battle rage, ignoring wounds, exhaustion, his physical limits in general. Combine that with his already terrifying physique and experience and you got an absolute monster of a warrior. Although, there are stories of him attacking his own, blindly, if he's not satisfied with the blood he spills.
Magic -
Misc
PS: I'll work on the Elf too, sometime this weekend and y'all can gimme your opinions, I won't mind using either one.
Age: 28 Alias(es): Ankle Hewer, Daveon the Small, Little Wolverine. Gender: Male Race: Halfling Personality: Daveon is, for lack of a better term, a dick. He has no respect for the larger races of the world. And why should he? They’ve done nothing for him or his people outside of treat them as lesser because of their stature. He is a tenacious fighter and stubborn to the core, refusing to back down from a fight or an argument, even to his own detriment. His love of coin is also one of his defining features, never able to turn down a full purse or the promise of wealth as a reward for his unique skill set of being able to bring foes down to his level. Daveon is arrogant, angry and a bit racist, never shirking a chance to insult an elf by calling them ‘Knife Ear’. He has a particular distrust for human barkeeps, not sure if they’re taking advantage of him for his size and charging him more for ale and then giving him a smaller portion than he gives the humans and elves, or if they are really just offering him the good stuff. Not that he can can tell, all alcohol goes down the same for him.
Daveon has only two loves in the whole world, coin and slaying monsters. He doesn’t even love his own mum that much, though she’s a saint. Daveon fights and kills not for glory, though he gives off that appearance, but rather he fights for the people of his home town, donating much of the money he makes to the needy and takes care of his kind. He believes that the halflings have been put down by the full sized people of the world, less so from the dwarves, as they have been kind and fair to Daveon whenever he’s been to their settlements. Much of what Daveon does is a show, being a dick to the larger people who have put his kind down for years and being callous. He only shows his true passion in the midst of combat, sword and axe flailing in his fury to cut down any foe brave enough to fight him.
Biography: Daveon started out as many of the other pitfighters like him did, as a street rat. He stole and fought to survive, believing that he could punch his way out of any situation, and it was mostly true. Dav found himself on the receiving end of many a brutal beat down while he was growing up, gaining a sort of resilience to physical injury and a callous personality that allowed him to brush off insults and rude comments like they were water off a duck’s back. Daveon spent a lot of time with his mother when he wasn’t on the streets learning to brawl, learning about what it meant to stand for something, and that something was the little people of his slums, his home… The halfling people were a race left disregarded by the taller, more importantly, a race of people who were given the scraps, treated worse than the slaves. Daveon felt that his people had always been regarded as inferior and unfit for anything, even slave labor. This belief manifested itself in unchecked rage and aggression, which got him into a lot of trouble.
Daveon spent his late teen years being trained on how to focus that rage when he decided he was going to use his natural talent for bludgeoning people to make money, focusing all of his hatred and anger into the Pits, an arena in his hometown that was designed to pit those who were truly brave, or stupid, enough to battle some of the most dangerous monsters capable of being captured and restrained long enough to be killed in the arenas. Equipment: Daveon barely wears any armor outside of the steel pauldrons on his shoulders, preferring the freedom of movement that loose fitting clothing gives him while he’s fighting. Daveon carries a straight sword and an axe on his back as well as several daggers on his belt. The most protection he wears, outside of the pauldrons are a pair of loose fitting leather pants.
Skills: Primal Rage - After years of rage buried deep inside of him, Daveon is able to channel that rage into his combat ability, allowing him to shrug off blows that would look fatal to any normal man. When the primal fury takes him over, he loses much of his ability to conjure intelligent thought and speech, but his blows become much more devastating. Daveon also has his senses honed in this state of rage, able to react to incoming attacks many times faster than most fighters of his size or larger, allowing him to dodge out of the way of incoming projectiles and avoid being seriously injured by magics, while also being immune to any magic that might strike fear into him or charm him otherwise. Daveon can only enter this state four times over the course of a day and only for ten minutes at a time.
Feral Battle Lust - An enhanced version of the Primal Rage, a state that Daveon can only enter one time per day. It increases his agility and allows him to move faster, at the detriment of not being able to distinguish friend from foe for the duration. In this state, he becomes tired much faster and can only enter the rage state once before needing to sleep off the strain it puts on his body. Once in this state, if his enemies all die before he comes out of his feral rage, he dives at the nearest body and rips into it, brutalizing them until the fury wears off. The fury lasts ten minutes and once it has been entered, he can no longer enter his primal rage until he sleeps.
Pit Fighter’s toughness - Due to Daveon’s years fighting for sport and money, he gained a resilience to physical blows. He can take more hits than anyone he knows and keep going, having fought all manner of man and beast inside the bloodied cages of the pits. He has great stamina and endurance as well as a fortitude that appears to be indomitable. Tenacity is an apt word to describe the small man and the inability to take him down. Daveon is much more durable than many of the other soldiers and fighters amongst the order due to this physical conditioning.
@Hillan Arthur's sheet should be finished now. I took more than a few liberties, so do tell me if something needs to be adjusted. The reason for Arthur joining the Journeymen will unfold with my first post in the In Character Thread, I've already put down the groundwork.