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Age: 52

GenderMale

Race:Human

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Personality - Jeggred, his true name forgotten over years of subjegation, is a vindictive and often cruel man. His time worshipping an entity of darkness has torn apart the sanity of his mind under the weight of servitude.
A sanity he has only recently begun to recover.

At his core shines a golden radiance that was his true faith to the lords above. It speaks to him of tolerance and peace, at war with the black of his sins.

The inner conflict between his brainwashing and the faith of his forefathers has created twin personalities. Making him dangerous and often unpredictable.

History - Shadows. Suffering. Screams of the dead and dieing, their bodies mutilated and hung like tapestries from the blackened walls of the keep.
They speak of pain commited with his own hands. The memories of hiw cruelty linger even now, still so fresh and vivid. The markings upon their flesh is the unmistakable result of his own handiwork.

They were the sacrifices to darkness needed, required, for his tutelage.

When had they taken him aay from the world of his youth. When tapestries of heroes adorned the walls, weapons for good rested on the hips and in the hands of veterans to the righteous causes. Jeggred cannot answer these questions any longer.
Stolen from his home and robbed if his fath he had been beaten and broken at the hands of true evil. Influenced by his own pain to share it with others.

Years of prolonged cruelty ended in an instant. The man, old and frail, had taken once glance at Jeggred armed with his sinister tools and smiled. Spoke of forgiveness, not from his captors. To them.
His last breathe spoke of a strange gods name, a word beyond strength that tore into Jeggreds soul like a dagger.

His home. Their gods. His past.

Memories long burned from his mind rose again and brought confusion. Pain. A red haze the likes of which he had never known until pnly darkness remained.

The last memories Jeggred has is waking up upon the freezing mountaintops, in robes stolen from his 'siblings'. Stained with red and back blood.

A golden song echoes in his heart, wordlessly speaking of atonement. Atonement he can never hope to be forgiven for.

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Weapons

• lightsbane

Magic

• Wither - Jeggred tears the energy from the target, sundering their will. Enemies effected become sluggish and dazed.
• Rot - A single cut can turn fatal when the twisted magics curse them. Enemies suffer rapid flesh decay for a brief period of time based on pre-existing wounds.
• Shackle - Nether bindings made from the dark magic at Jeggreds command wrap around a target, preventing them from moving for a short period of time. Can be channeled for longer duration.
• Sunder - All things must end. The enemies cursed with this horrible incantation often erupt in terrible wounds across their naked flesh. The more mana put into this spell the greater the wound is inflicted.
• Consume - Siphons the lifeforce of an enemy to regenerate Health and Magic.

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Theme Song:

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Age: 47

Gender Male

Race: Human

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Personality
Despite the trappings and appearance of, at times, Priesthood, at a casual conversation, Ansgar still comes off like his former bandit days. He tends towards bleak, gallows humor and speaking with sarcasm and disdain for nobility and generally anyone who was born into their station, seeing it as little more than glorified entitlement. He still knows the tricks and tools of the trade from back in his younger years, and has no qualms using them, which has created entertaining moments of a priest picking locks, or lifting something out of another thief's pocket to prove a point. And this suits Ansgar just fine, he much prefers that his peers see him as an uncouth, barely recivilized thug playing at being a pious man, it makes his job easier as far as he is concerned. He would march to war alongside soldiers and guards alike, sheparding them along and fighting as viciously, if not even more so, than they would.

Woe unto any who think that his faith is a sham, because Ansgar is earnest in that his newfound faith saved him from the Executioner's block (and giving his younger sister the satisfaction of outlasting him, and taking his head for that matter). Despite the crass warrior exterior, he is still a priest at heart, and always watching and considering his surroundings. Before, it was looking for ambushes and guards hunting his partners and him, now it was looking to those around him for what they truly were, and why they hid it. He wears his chains, once binding him, now a constant reminder of his past and how he rose above it. And may whomever attempts to mock him for such things be ready for the crude remark they will be getting in return. Though no matter how poorly he got along with someone, he will still give them their last rites and see them buried, commended to whatever gods they follow.

History

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Weapons

• Two handed Warhammer, it's blessing personally maintained by Ansgar.
• Dirk, tucked into a sheath that is firmly secured to his left leg.

Magic

• Healing Magic - Fueled by faith and learned to channel through his mentor in his early years as a priest, Ansgar is capable of mending torn flesh and broken bone, as well as purging illness and poison from the afflicted with enough time, meditation, and prayer. Though in a pinch, he is perfectly handy with both splint and bandage, as well as remedies he picked up on during his banditry days, since walking into town and seeking a healer was not really an option for those like him at the time.
• Wrath - Unlike priests and healers that maintain oaths of pacifism and peace, Ansgar has learned to channel his faith into a weapon as sharp as any sword, and a shield as sturdy as any wall, if what he said would be believed. When necessary, he can channel his wrath into his combat abilities, war hammer glowing a hot white and, if the situation is desperate enough, emitting a corona of soulfire that would sear any that got too close, friend or foe. The undead are especially susceptible to such a display of power, lesser specimens being turned away at the sight, and often crumbling under a single blow. Of course, he cannot maintain such a state for long, due to how taxing it is on his body, but while he is channeling it, it gives him an edge that he may very well need.
• Ruin - A man can be as dangerous as he wants in a melee, but if he cannot reach his enemy, what good does all that skill and talent do them? Though Ansgar is still training himself in these techniques, he can launch bolts of light that blind and burn the flesh of those targeted by the attacks, with the added bonuses against the undead. While that is his only reliable attack at range, if the situation grows dire enough, an earnest prayer and incantation could, God willing, bless him with the means to bring down a column of power to smite a target, though this will leave him drained and unable to call upon any other abilities for some time.

Other
His younger sister, Reinhilde Staudinger, remains currently employed as an executioner for the Imperium. Ansgar has not had contact with her for over fifteen years, and has no intentions of rectifying that.

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Post Example
"Staudinger! Grab your hammer, we've been had!

Ansgar jumped out of his small bed, having been relaxing after the latest raid that had hit some Imperium convoy that had gone too far off the beaten path. It'd been too easy, he'd told them this, but they went for it anyways. Turned out to have a hefty amount of coin, far too much for how underguarded the convoy had been. He had planned to skip out the following day, had his things packed already and everything, but it seemed retribution had arrived before he could skip out on that meeting again. He got out of the crude wooden doorway they had put into the cave entrance in time to see the one who had raised the alarm run through by one of the hunters, and wasted no time bringing the hammer down on the offending hunter's head before he could pull his weapon free of the dead bandit. Wrenching the hammer clear of the dead bounty hunter, he still saw several others already approaching, some man wearing plate with a red collar unrolling a scroll and speaking loudly. "By order of the Imperial Throne, you have been charged with murder of a superior, desertion, robbery, extortion, evasion of apprehension, and other crimes I need not list here. What say you?"

"To hell with you, your charges, and the Imperium, I stand by what I did. Let's get this over with, I want to get some sleep before finding someone else to rob, business has been rather lean lately." Ansgar didn't wait for the bounty hunters to encircle and strike from all sides, instead charging the far left flank of them first, a kid far too young to be in this line of work. He stumbled backwards, shield raised against the impending hammer blow which never came. Instead the blow came across his shins, shattering them and sending him to the ground, and as the other hunters were moving to attack, watched the young blood get his chest caved in. The next had a spear, lunging and landing a shallow cut along his side, passing between an old wound in his mail hauberk, which he hadn't the time or coin to find a blacksmith willing to fix it for him.

Hooking the shaft of the spear with the hammer, he twisted and wrenched the spear sideways and away from the hunter, a swift kick to the groin sending him to the ground, winded and in pain. He kept the last two hunters in front of him, the two trying to attack at once from both sides, sword and mace coming in at the same time. Rather than statically block, Ansgar turned the incoming mace blow aside, guiding it into the sword strike and forcing them both to his left side. Bringing the two handed hammer up from the deflection, he slammed the head of the hammer into the one hunter's gut, causing him to collapse, retching and coughing up blood before the hammer came down on his neck, putting him out of his misery. The spear hunter was getting to his feet, in time to see the swordsman have his shield hooked and jerked forward, pulling him off balance for a pommel strike and follow up blow to the head, putting him down as well. "What, never had a man fight back before? The convoy you used as bait put up more of a fight than this!"

The spear wielding hunter, still unsteady, lunged at the hammer wielding bandit, trying for a better angle on the gap in his armor this time. Problem being, Ansgar was expecting the follow up attempt, deflecting and grasping the shaft of the spear, and headbutted the spearman, breaking his nose and sending him reeling back again. Ansgar thrust the spear into the man's gut, sending him to the ground, and turned to see the armored man who had read the charges produce a two handed axe. Well then, seems the talker meant business. "Not bad for a bandit, a shame you strayed from your destined path as a soldier."

"You tell a man he can't go see his dying father when your regiment isn't going to be sent off for several months while replacements are trained, and see how he reacts." Ansgar charged the armored man, bringing the hammer down for the man's head, only for him to deflect the blow along the haft of the axe, using the axe head to hook and disarm Ansgar of his hammer. Cursing, he took a swing at the balding, smug face of the axe wielder, only to get a knee to the gut and the blunt side of the axe head to the head, stunning him and sending consciousness fleeing for a scant second. When he got his senses back, he felt the cold steel of an axe blade and the stern face of the man wielding it staring at him. "Banditry made you sloppy, but still salvegable. I offer you one chance at redemption, come with me, and my temple master will decide if you are fit for the cloth."

"Fit for the cloth... You're a priest? Hell kind of priest walks around with an axe? It is better than being hung or beheaded, I suppose..." Chuckling, the armored priest stood up, grabbing Ansgar by the collar of his mail hauberk and hauled him to his feet. "The kind that used to be a bandit as well, now come, its a long way to the temple and we'll need to avoid any other bounty hunters. Now, let us see if you can be redeemed"

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Theme Song:

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Age:unknown

Gender:F

Race:Oni

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Personality: Rishi, like the many members of her race she likes crushing people with a massive club, moonlit walks on the beach, and drinking gallons upon gallons of alcohol, she likes the simple things and looks to the lighter side of most situations despite how terrible the situation might be. Like many large creatures surrounded by smaller creatures, she has an arrow-proof attitude feeling as if nothing can really hurt her unless it's bigger and stronger than she is. While she seems simple when getting to know her Rishi is really really simple, she doesn't understand the human concept of money or caring for something smaller or helpless and believes that if you leave certain creatures alive they will come back to kill you later if they don't learn they aren't as strong as her or fighting her is useless and will give people an ass-kicking so they can learn it first hand.

History

Rishi's story changes with each time someone asks where she is from, in one story she could say she's from another world and had fallen into a portal to this one while she was in search of gold, alcohol, and out of boredom; in another, she would say that she was birthed by a human mother on a tiny farm not far from the current city that she is allowed into and woke up big with horns one morning; while in yet another, she would say that she was split from her mother and father during a fire and grew up in the wilderness without parents or anyone to take care of her. Her history is mostly all over the place, but she use to deal with a number of Oni that lived in a village, she would usually stay nomadic and wander the lands on her own wielding a number of iron clubs; a path of defeated humans would usually be the trail leading to her cave or the camp she would have set up, most of the humans that survived fighting her call her The Red whirlwind.

The moment the decay started to happen she didn't care about what was going on, nor did she think that the decay would affect her kind in any way, but she was wrong, really wrong. When she went to check on the village of Oni she would frequent a plague rolled in, many were lying in their own sick, unable to move, growing spots along their bodies with some even turning a sickly color, Rishi escaped from the village so she wouldn't get infected with whatever illness that they were blighted with. Back at her cave, Rishi wondered what could've infected, grabbing her favorite clubs, Rishi set out on a journey to find something that would help them.

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Weapons

• Metal spiked great club
• Studded wooden great club
• Skinny metal great club

Magic

• Oni roar: Rishi lets out a monstrous roar that puts fear in the hearts of true cowards and weeds out stronger and more courageous of people to fight her.
• You're going nowhere: Rishi creates a magical barrier to prevent people from running away from her in the middle of an ass-kicking.

Other

Theme Song:

Amila Yilen

AKA Sage of the Wilds

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Age:
135
Gender
Female
Race:
Wood Elf

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Personality
Despite her age and her position, Amila is quite naive. She's a kind sort, and will always try to help others who are in need. This kind of behaviour has also given her the title of "Benevolent Sage", which is used by common folk whenever they see her helping someone. While she is still somewhat grounded in her thinking, she often misreads situations and tries to solve things peacefully even when it is futile to try. Although she may sound like a pacifist, she's quite fearless in battle and is able to trust in her abilities as a Druid.
History

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Weapons/Equipment

• Ring of Protection
• Earrings of Power
• Sage's white cloak

Magic

• Summon Beast - Amila summons a beast of any kind. It's size varies depending on how much magical energy Amila uses when summoning it. She can also opt to summon only a part of a beast. ie. A bear's claw to strike an enemy, or a turtle's shell to act as a shield. Amila is able to see through these parts, as they are translucent only to her. Others cannot see through them.
• Animal Aspect - Amila takes on one aspect of a beast of her choosing. ie. Hawk's vision, or bear's strength. She can only have one aspect active as a time. For example, if she is using Hawk's vision and wishes to use a Scorpion's stinger, she must deactivate Hawk's vision first. She is able to use the aspects of mythical beasts, however such things require more energy.
• Control - This spell also allows Amila to give orders to summons and other beasts of lesser sentience. ie. Wild dire wolves.
• Healing Magic - Amila is able to cure light wounds and common illness. Such magic was part of her basic training.

Other

• Amila has a raven familiar named "Akash"
• Gift of Tongues - During her time as a Sage, Amila had taken the time to learn every language there was in the continent. This includes communication with animals, and mythical beasts.

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Theme Song: