One meat shield coming up. I'm not completely satisfied with the personality and history section, but I usually like to flesh things out in the RP rather than beforehand.
Name: Yuella Whitewing
Alias(es): Goes by Yuel, very few people know her full name. Sometimes called Meatshield by other members of the guild.
Gender: Female
Race: Half-Elf
Age: 24
Rank: C
Personality: Yuel is bold and more than a little on the loud side. Her bravery and courage are known by many, mostly as foolishness. She's bluntly honest and couldn't lie her way out of a wet paper bag. She couldn't talk her way out of a wet paper bag in general. The finer arts such as charisma and cunning and beyond her. She's stubborn to a fault, most often than not refusing to see her own limits and pushing herself far beyond them. She isn't the smartest person around, but she is genuine and even if her methods aren't the best, she always means well. She gets restless and impatient sitting around for long periods of time, as she's more of a woman of action than anything.
History: Yuel is the youngest of five, four girls and the oldest a boy. Born to Silas and Aryn Whitewing, a family of nobles. Among the blondes and light browns of the rest of her family, her crimson locks made her stand out. Though physically gifted, she quickly fell behind in her studies, even if she did try her best. She could never pick up the ways of bullshitting, so after several embarrassing moments at social events, they started leaving her at home.
Yuel knew she wasn't cut out to be a noble, she also knew that her family didn't like her because she was different. So at the age of twelve, she ran away from home. Slipping out in the middle of the night with a few supplies. She did well at first, making through the first week without any issues. But as her food ran out, she realized she had no idea what she was doing. Thankfully, a travelling merchant picked her up before she starved to death and brought her to the nearest city.
The merchant left her with the city guard, who were known for taking in orphans, runaways, and general misfits and turning them into fine warriors. Yuel was a quick study, skilled in the art of the blade and always eager to learn more. She soon become the strongest of the group, completely oblivious to the jealousy of the other children.
Four years later and a now sixteen year old Yuel had completed her training and was ready to join the city guard. But she had no patience for patrolling the city walls, and those that trained her knew that. Instead, they pointed her in the direction of the local Adventurer's Guild, a place known as Iron Rose, knowing that she was better off somewhere that she could hone her skills further and still be able to do some good. She's been there ever since, having finally found a place that suits a person like herself.
Skills: Yuel is physically strong, stronger than most women and many men. What she may lack in other areas is made up with the fact that being hit by her is like being trampled by a herd of horses. Her sword strikes so powerful that they've been known to tear through metal armor at times. She's skilled in the art of two handed swords, and using them as either one or two handed weapons. She's skilled in the art of survival, able to live off the land with ease, even with only the most meager of supplies at her disposal. Growing up among nobles allows her to spot bullshit from a mile away. Despite her distinct lack of armor, her defense is excellent and she can take a lot of hits before going down.
Equipment: Yuel's main weapon is a greatsword that she has named Fluffy. There's nothing special about Fluffy aside from the name, it is well made, but still common grade. Her only armor is a set of steel pauldrons and bracers, both of which are also of common grade. She also has with her a hunting knife, which she uses for, well, hunting, rather than for combat. It is also of common grade.
Anything Else: Yuel tends to growl at people when first meeting them, or if she doesn't like them.
One meat shield coming up. I'm not completely satisfied with the personality and history section, but I usually like to flesh things out in the RP rather than beforehand.
Name: Yuella Whitewing
Alias(es): Goes by Yuel, very few people know her full name. Sometimes called Meatshield by other members of the guild.
Gender: Female
Race: Half-Elf
Age: 24
Rank: C
Personality: Yuel is bold and more than a little on the loud side. Her bravery and courage are known by many, mostly as foolishness. She's bluntly honest and couldn't lie her way out of a wet paper bag. She couldn't talk her way out of a wet paper bag in general. The finer arts such as charisma and cunning and beyond her. She's stubborn to a fault, most often than not refusing to see her own limits and pushing herself far beyond them. She isn't the smartest person around, but she is genuine and even if her methods aren't the best, she always means well. She gets restless and impatient sitting around for long periods of time, as she's more of a woman of action than anything.
History: Yuel is the youngest of five, four girls and the oldest a boy. Born to Silas and Aryn Whitewing, a family of nobles. Among the blondes and light browns of the rest of her family, her crimson locks made her stand out. Though physically gifted, she quickly fell behind in her studies, even if she did try her best. She could never pick up the ways of bullshitting, so after several embarrassing moments at social events, they started leaving her at home.
Yuel knew she wasn't cut out to be a noble, she also knew that her family didn't like her because she was different. So at the age of twelve, she ran away from home. Slipping out in the middle of the night with a few supplies. She did well at first, making through the first week without any issues. But as her food ran out, she realized she had no idea what she was doing. Thankfully, a travelling merchant picked her up before she starved to death and brought her to the nearest city.
The merchant left her with the city guard, who were known for taking in orphans, runaways, and general misfits and turning them into fine warriors. Yuel was a quick study, skilled in the art of the blade and always eager to learn more. She soon become the strongest of the group, completely oblivious to the jealousy of the other children.
Four years later and a now sixteen year old Yuel had completed her training and was ready to join the city guard. But she had no patience for patrolling the city walls, and those that trained her knew that. Instead, they pointed her in the direction of the local Adventurer's Guild, a place known as Iron Rose, knowing that she was better off somewhere that she could hone her skills further and still be able to do some good. She's been there ever since, having finally found a place that suits a person like herself.
Skills: Yuel is physically strong, stronger than most women and many men. What she may lack in other areas is made up with the fact that being hit by her is like being trampled by a herd of horses. Her sword strikes so powerful that they've been known to tear through metal armor at times. She's skilled in the art of two handed swords, and using them as either one or two handed weapons. She's skilled in the art of survival, able to live off the land with ease, even with only the most meager of supplies at her disposal. Growing up among nobles allows her to spot bullshit from a mile away. Despite her distinct lack of armor, her defense is excellent and she can take a lot of hits before going down.
Equipment: Yuel's main weapon is a greatsword that she has named Fluffy. There's nothing special about Fluffy aside from the name, it is well made, but still common grade. Her only armor is a set of steel pauldrons and bracers, both of which are also of common grade. She also has with her a hunting knife, which she uses for, well, hunting, rather than for combat. It is also of common grade.
Anything Else: Yuel tends to growl at people when first meeting them, or if she doesn't like them.
Looks good.
In other news, OOC coming some time in the next 24 hours
I have converted my character's history into a short story chapter. It's quite long, so if you guys don't like to read it, I can put up a summary. Since the confrontation is rather interesting that I can't afford to summarize it in a few sentences. Written at incredible high speed. So basically it's finished.
Alexander Pacifier
"There are things out there in this world that are simply and purely evil. Those are the ones you cannot understand, sympathize or compromise. You can only annihilate them."
Name: Alexander Pacifier
Nickname: (For those close to him) Alex
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 24
Rank: C-ranked
Personality: Calm in almost every certain situation is Alexander's character defining trait. Even in the direst of circumstances, he still emerged with his cool temperament and seldom fazed by stress or pressure, and he normally speaks with a collected, smooth and icy tone that could freeze your spine (not really). But in some rare occasions, he may still lose control of his behavior if you frustrates him by insults. Not to him, but to his book collections. Alexander loves reading, to the point of mere obsessions. He believes it is a key to the gate leading to world domination.
Alexander has a solid grasp of the definition of honor, justice and morality, but because of the extent of his studying of the world, he is more or less 'mature' in his views, and is a realist. He does not see the world in a rose-colored glasses, and believes the end justifies the means. This can lead to him putting behind him his moral codes for the sake of a bigger picture. He can sometimes be cruel and cold-hearted, but not without logical reasons. But in general, he is helpful, honorable and generally respected by those who fought by his side.
History:
The old military commander Philip of Irithia was occupied with the paperwork he had to deal with. Very, very occupied, as the muscles around his wrist wasn't even moving according to his will anymore. It was instinct. The curves, ups and downs, waving gracefully like the wind, was all done so many times that he was doing it even without looking at the paper himself. His countenance was elsewhere, on the far edge of the desk, where his hand held another paper.
He was behind schedule. Seriously behind schedule
As his aide walked into the room, for a few minutes, he could not bare to interrupt him. The legends of the soldiers who dared to interrupt his hyper-concentration had edged deep into the young adjutant's mind. For those few minutes, there were silence. The only sound that was allowed to echo, was the sound of the moving pen, drifting at Philip's command.
"Speak." Suddenly, Philip said, putting his pen down.
"H-Hai?!" The adjutant was caught completely by surprise. His face hardened as if he was turned to stone.
"I know you are here for something. I know you would not want to squander my precious time. So speak." In contrast, Philip's voice was stern and commanding, as expected of a seasoned military commander.
"A-Ah yes. Your...son is here to see you."
"I have been expecting..." He hushed his aide away, to call for the man.
The aide rushed for the door near him, and slowly opened it. From there, a grand, extravagant looking man, in around his early-twenties, brown hair, in a custom knight armor, and a pair of eyes so deep, that reflected the man's pure reservoir of intellect and knowledge that he himself acquired, slowly and calmly walked in, to show proper respect to the one standing in front of him.
The aide was no stranger to him. He was Alexander Pacifier, the first and only son of Philip, the man whom he had always served for a quarter of a century. A man of noble birth, and inherited the shadow of his father's infamy, and yet it was never once demonstrated. In this kingdom, the families of royals were usually spoiled brats, whose only things they knew of were balls, dance parties and luxury jewelry. Alexander, however, only knew books, and knowledge. Without even taught, the boy knew how to read when he was three. Could handle a pen when he was four, and speak with proper and polite manner when he was six. Raising him was a pleasant, but weird experience. Rarely begged, rarely whined was a blessing none other could have gotten when raising a child. But like-father-like-son, talking to him was like a word play, especially when he got older and older. But still, a conversation or two with him was still a comfortable time. He was surprisingly compassionate and helpful.
Philip wanted the boy to become a military man just like him, but the boy...had a different ambition. And he was here to present it, at last.
The two saluted, in a military fashion.
And waited.
It was only five seconds long, but for the outsiders, it felt like a medium-sized eternity. The entire room stood utterly still, utterly silent. For every encounter between this man and his young son always ended with intense auras thrown at each other. No, they did not fight or argue. It's just father-like-son way of talking. And this one was no exception.
"You seem unsettled, father." Alexander began at last
"There are a great many things to attend to. And I am wondering if this little...confrontation of yours would not be a waste of my time." His tone was dry, his intention was unclear
"It will not." Whether or not Alexander was insulted, his face did not show it, nor his voice show it
"Then I suppose your proposal to join the Iron Rose Adventure will not bother me?" The voice got drier and drier. "Hmmm. I have never trusted groups of creatures from different races. They are...chaotic"
"Nor do I. But a certain case could not be necessarily applied to every others."
"You seem to have insisted on your journey? For what reasons? What would it offer to this huge empire?"
Alexander took a few seconds to think before answering him
"First of all, it offers information. There are threats, lurking out there in the open island. And I can know about them soon enough to warn you, if they arises."
"I will know of them soon enough on my own." Philip simply countered placidly. "Anymore to offer?"
"Perhaps you will know soon enough to defeat them. And it offers a trusted security circle. For this small little universe." Alexander replied calmly.
"Can you even ensure the security within your own guild? What would you do if they decide to betray you? Or more simply, take all the credit of your work?"
Again, a few seconds of silence.
"I need not credits for my service. Only the security of this world."
"And you seek to eliminate such threats? Philip asked
"I do."
"I have seen others with your sense of nobility. Many fell on the wayside when their naive selflessness collided with the real world."
"I have collided with the real world, my father. More than you know it."
"...Indeed you do." It was Philip's turn to be silent. He had not expected Alexander to counter that. "But that leaves one question to be answered."
"And that is?"
"If you have settled into your 'group', and you discover a threat that can destroy our empire. Who would you serve for? Which of us would command your allegiance?"
The fact that there were so many people who just took the opportunity to run away from their hometown and left it to its fate had taught Philip well. And he had to make sure Alexander did not fall into that category.
Yet again, the brown-haired man pondered. "If there such threats, you would command my allegiance."
"How would you guarantee?"
"My words are my guarantee."
"Guaranteed until you are comfortable enough to escape my reach?" Philip's eyes narrowed, staring at his son
There was a slight pause. "If you are so concerned, then I assume that you have not taught me well." The aide standing behind Alexander felt a chill coming up his spine. That phrase, if uttered by any commoners, would result in severe punishment, right on spot. And yet...
"Didn't you?" Alexander even added. Rubbing salt to injuries.
The aide literally froze on spot, holding his breathe tensely, waiting for Philip's reaction.
In contrary to his expectation, the old but austere general gave a small smile.
"Of course not."
"Then I would assume, you have granted me your permission?"
Philip giggled dryly, the laugh barely audible. "Perceptive, you are. Fine then. In exchange for your excused leave of the empire, you are to regularly inform any and every potential threats to me. Do I make myself clear?"
Alexander returned the smile with that same old confidence that both the men in the room knew.
"As you wish, father."
Magic: Despite having a decent knowledge about magic, he cannot use or learn any of these, and is vulnerable to it.
Skills:
Alexander's father, Philip, was a seasoned and accomplished commander in the Royal Army of Irithia, and once fought in the great three kingdom war. Through his father's teaching, Alexander had not only inherited his father's ideology in the art of battle tactics, but he also found his inner desire for knowledge and decent understanding in martial art and ranged combat. Alexander is physically fit and is adept in unarmed combat, as he is capable of fending off against weak monsters in a one on one situation. He has also proven to be a good shooter, capable of shooting his one-handed crossbow with considerable accuracy.
But perhaps his most valuable and deadly skill is his intellect. In a combat scenario, if you fight long enough to let him study you, chances are you better dig your own grave. Because of his great adaptability, he is capable of steadily studying his opponents, conducting certain analysis of their actions to determine the best course of strategy for his team. Even though not all of his judgement is correct, and he is not correct every time his deductions come to life, but the pinpoint accuracy of the result of his knowledge is deadly.
Equipment:
-One handed crossbow and a bunch of small pocketed arrow magazines (Masterwork-grade): His main fighting weapon aside from hand-to-hand fighting. A gift from a certain blacksmith, who had been his long acquaintance and friends in the adventure guild. He specially designed the bow to be more small, convenient yet still retain some of the power of a two-handed crossbow. Not as powerful as the commonly used, but it can be fired with one hand semi-automatically without the need to reload every single shot. Instead, he will need to change the magazine for every five shots
-Spyglass (Common-grade): For observation
Armor:
-Standard Knight armor (Common-grade)
-Dark colored cape (Common-grade)
Anything Else: He has a certain collection of books with a variety of fields in his possession, to slake his thirst for knowledge. Sometimes, in an expedition, he would carry a bag full of books just to read it, regardless of its inconvenience.
I'm certain there are ways I could have made this a better read. There wasn't much to say as far as history goes without putting it in first person, but don't worry, I type in third-person. >_< Hope the magic works... Aaaand the backstory kinda teases on something I was talking to SilverDawn about regarding being one of the first quest-givers, assuming it pads out. Of course, I'm willing to change anything to better fit.
Name Ahnciel (No last name)
Alias(es) 'Ahnci'
Gender Androgynous, male-pronouns
Race Chimeric Homunculus
Age Appears late teens / early twenties
Rank -Currently Unranked-
Personality Ahnci is soft spoken and often comes off as timid, though he has developed a nasty habit of 'fear biting'. He is inexperienced with the world and is often seen as naive or even foolish, though has enough street smarts and common sense to avoid dangerous situations if possible. Repeated abuse has worn down any love he would have towards humans as well as inherent disposition, leaving him almost seeming 'hollow' at times. Outside of this, Ahnci is excitable and eccentric when expressing emotions. Curious of this new world outside of servitude, he has a distinct fascination with the accumulation of knowledge and an abstract method of defining experiences and that which he witnesses in an almost poetic way. Ahnci means well, believing in the good in the world but what with murder and theft working out for him so far, hes morally gray as far as problem solving goes.
History Speaking ill of the dead is not my intention, as they are gone and cannot hear my words no matter how loud I scream. Existence came as suddenly as one would wake from sleep, and all I knew since then has been one nightmare after the other. It begins with a monster of a man and his monster of a son and ends with both of them dead for their vileness. There would have likely been more, but I was smart enough to know when it was time to leave. I had spent maybe a day on the run before coming across the perfect place to rest. Unbeknownst to me, the crate of linins was bound to be transferred by boat to destinations unknown to me. Wherever it was, the ship would not reach it as the force of a storm toppled the craft. To this day, I'm not entirely certain how I survived. I dreamt of a creature within the darkness of the waves who came to my aid, massive as the shore as black as night. Though it did not speak, we came to an understanding that my mortality was left to its mercy and that it had no interest in my soul at that moment. Though I did not hear it speak, I knew words which it etched into my mind; formless syllables and cryptic verses whose very recollection brought power through even the vaguest attempts to pronounce them. ...Existence returned to me as suddenly as one would wake from sleep, dashed upon the shore with the corpses of sailors and passengers as well as their cargo. Understanding the value of coin, I rummaged for what I could fill my pockets with, though I knew nothing regarding what it could be spent on. Monsters had the same idea in mind and I was forced to flee with a small collection of coin, baubles, my cloak and a single shortsword. It was a shame to abandon the quantity of goods, but surely someone would be interested in the knowledge of it, right? As much as I hate to admit it, I may need help collecting the old master's crossbow from the monsters...and the collected coin may have use, after all.
Mahjikose Prayers offered to his dark savior whom Ahnci knows only as 'The Fish' are returned with a creeping understanding of the cold abyss. The magic manifests as a physical force composed of wires and hooks intended to harry, maim and bind victims. However, good intentions have controlled this nightmare ink to serve the purpose of keenly suturing and binding wounds, infusing injury with wild essence that stabilizes when united with life force. The result is swift first aid and accelerated healing that snuffs scars...assuming the subject can deal with stitches. The other half of these boons is a mild manipulation of ice magics. The weak and aura-based spells usually come in the form of conjuring a cloud of frigid fog for obscuring vision and distracting those who enter it with rapidly accumulating frost or freezing small patches of water. Mainly, the focus of the magic is to offer utility and award creativity.
Skills Ahnci's small, slim, lithe stature allow ease for fitting into small spaces, hiding or avoiding being struck (With varying success. Boot-sized bruises still linger from recent abuse prior to escape). Standing at roughly 4'10", he is anything but imposing, though he still retains knowledge of 'training' as the duke's son's 'sparring partner', so to speak. His style of fighting is highly undisciplined and leans more towards ambush tactics and cheap shots. Average at fighting defensively. Leading up to his escape, Luciel had plenty of practice in picking locks to undo his binds. However, magical locks are currently beyond his expertise. Animalistic splices left him with discerning cat-like eyes able to see reasonably well in low-light conditions. Additionally, he sports pronounced upper and lower K9s and a determined bite would certainly hurt.
Equipment 1 steel shortsword treated to be rust resistant but still common class. A cloak shoddily crafted from a thick portion of a now tattered tapestry. It serves as common-class light armor and likely belonged to a prestigious lineage in some distant land. A simple pocketwatch, two ornate rings too big for him to wear...likely stolen. A keyring holding various pieces of slim metal beaten into the shape of a makeshift lockpick set ('common' class). Two flasks found at the scene of the wreck which Luciel assumed was water until getting his first taste, their contents seem to serve well for aiding in starting fires, though (sailors' rum). About 7 silver in an assortment of coins .
Anything Else - Given the region which he learned to speak in, Luciel carries a bit of an accent vhich I vill be inflictink upon readers. On top of this, his linguistics are shoddy at times and the prose with which he speaks is often either over formalized or abstract like internal musings, a testament to the depth of his mistreatment. - Opposed to the nature of the entity he made a pact with, Luciel is a less than impressive swimmer. If anything, he has a bit of hydrophobia for any amount of water more than waist deep.
@Hammerman Well, if it means anything, the alchemist that pulled it off is probably super murdered by their own creations by now...not to mention having originated in some distant land. Aspirations and that kind of stuff. I know nothing about plans. Still running it by Silver, but they gave me the ok on the race. >_<
@Hawlin Hmm, homonculus? I was planning the creation of homonculus to be one of the ultimate goals of alchemists.
There's more than one way to make a puppet move.
And there's a whole lotta stuff that's going to come up about this that I will not tell you both until it actually happens, but, rest assured, there will be differences.