Name: Orky
Age: 25
Race: Orc
Sex: Male
Description: He is the typical Orc, large, green but not very mean. He stands aounr 6'7" and wieghing in about 294 pounds.
Has the classic Orc ears and has short hair. Not much else to say than other he is usually wearing his armor and carrying a book with MEMORIES crudly labled on it
Notable Belongings: His Orcish armor and Warhammer.
A small rugsck that he uses to carry his belongings in.
A book with MEMORIES written on it.
Backstory:
Orky was raised by a human woman after being dropped off at her doorstep. The woman having no children nor husband she gladly raised him
She taught him the ways how a proper person to ask and "The Golden Rule." Being an Orc he didnt have much intelligence wise to speak of but he was still capable of understanding feelings. Orky lived happily with his adopted mother back until about the age of 18 when some one started to kill the Gods. Of course this started to make the world go into a frenzy including where him and his mother lived. It was when a mob came outside the house demanding for Orky, because they somehow believed it was the Orcs fault. Orky's Mother told them to leave but they didnt budge. They started banging on the door when Orky's mother knew what to do. She gathered some things in a small rugsack for him then told him to go through the back window and run north. She also said keep running till you see a camp where there are people like you. Then the villagers busted down the door and Orky's yelled at him to go, of course never to disobey his mother he ran out the window and head north. He looked behind him a few minutes after running and saw a pillar of smoke in the distance.

It was about a few hours till Orky reached an Orcish settlement where there was an Orcish shaman waiting for him. When he had reached close enough the Warlock welcomed him and told Orky that his mother came along time ago asking for guidance on raising an Orc. Of course the Warlock gave her the information she needed but before she left the Warlock told her that to send him here when the World collapses and seems all is lost. Orky's mother agreed and went back to the still child Orky. After The Warlock finished informing Orky on the past, the Warlock brought him to his lair. He told Orky how he and some others would have an impact on the world and the course it takes in the future. The Warlock also said that he was going to train Orky on how to become a warrior and conquer his enemies. Orky agreed since he didnt have much else to do. So his training began, it has lasted for about 7 years till Orky was ready.

The Warlock had awarded Orky with Amour and a Warhammer befitting an Orc. He then sent him on his merry way and told him that fate will guide you on your path. So Orky left heading in some direction the wind was heading.

Stats-
Strength: 9
Perception: 5
Eendurance: 7
Charisma: 2
Intelligence: 3
Agility:2
Luck: 10

Name: Endrokin
Alias: None
Age: Yes
Gender: Male
Species: Dragon
Occupation: That much varies, but some have humorously referred to him as a 'dragon dragoon'.
Residence: A mountain with its own hot spring inside of a cave.

S - 6
P - 6
E - 6
C - 4
I - 5
A - 8
L - 5

Physical Description: Use this as a basic reference.

You see this dragon man walking by and the first thing you notice - apart from the fact that he's a dragon - is that he is RIPPED. Under his attire, those gray scales of his are formed into the shape of an Olympian athlete. It's a taut form on this tall motherfucker, and it looks like he favors agility over strength, but he ain't lacking in either. Nothing particularly stand-out-ish about his body apart from that, though. Seems he looks after himself, even manages to keep relatively clean while living in the wild. His head has a rough-scale crest flanked by two thick-short horns that point back, and he has emerald-green eyes with rough, jagged iris slits. What you get the impression of - from the way he carries himself to the way he looks at you - that he is not simply man-sized dragon. He is a dragon walking as a man. More on this stuff later.

Personality: Ah yes...the mind of the dragon.

Endrokin is a fairly-straightforward sort of creature. He is generally blunt and vicious, and believes fully in the prowess and dignity of dragons to a fault. That fault is that he is Jingoistic. He finds other beings who are not of his kind to be...lesser. He doesn't automatically hate everything you are about, but you are not up to his standards, in general. You don't have the strength and endurance he has, you're not the warrior he is, and you don't have enough scales. Seriously, he is more concerned over a Kobold than a Human. It's just the way he sees things. And speaking of which, a number of his ways of thinking and modes of speech can be comparable to the popular Beast Wars character, Dinobot. He's a fighter, he's forceful, he can quip well and quip harshly, and of course...he has a temper. So, if you make a mistake when he's around, he will make you pay for it.

However, on top of all this, something else has been weighed upon his mind, and that is the splinters of history. The world is not known to him anymore. Things have changed, gone wrong. Those magic anomalies? They've caused him to have mental anomalies, thinking things are that aren't or never were, forgetting or just not knowing things that ARE and have always been. This world gone mad has done more than tear up the so-called tree of life, but uprooted it, and for him that has changed...much. He is not the dragon he was or necessarily will be, or at least he believes as much. What's in a belief now? He never prayed to any gods, but they were real enough. And now that they're gone...how much will remain real now?

Equipment/Cabilities: Things have changed in Endrokin, as things have changed in the world. He is a magic being, by nature, so...

Mythril Meld Armor - This full set of armor (no helmet) was once several items of notable quality. The abrupt tear from where he was to this place has caused a change, though. In place of many, there is one. The Mythril Meld is a sturdy piece of armor that has taken to pull free aether from the air to increase the return of spiritual energy after its use. The legs assist in jumping and other acrobatic maneuvers. The bracers accompany clawing and beating by hand with fire damage. Most of all, the draconic look of this armor has made it seem like second skin to Endrokin, meaning it does not inhibit him in action. It IS, however, sometimes susceptible to unstable magical fields.

Fang of All Ages - This is a special Adamantine Pole-Arm that was cast in a large and powerful forge with his own help to get it just right. Because the material it's composed of is more about being dense and armor-breaking than particularly magical, the energy fields did not alter it as it had his armor on the return trip. What trip? The trip that will be explained in History, of course. Still, this is just a well-balanced and highly-dangerous double-glaive weapon.

Runic Magic - As opposed to incantation, ki-manipulation, psyonics, or calling to your gods...Endrokin is practiced in certain types of rune inscription magic. That is, create the proper rune, charge it with energy, and make use of it as needed. His rune-based spells included Boosting/Lowering Traits, Detecting/Concealing Magic Auras, Environment Protection, and a Damage Field for people who touch him. The unstable magical fields will likely have some sort of effect on this, but it's difficult to predict. Like...someone might roll a die or something...

Dragon Form - We may have mentioned, but...Endrokin is a dragon. He's been walking around as a dragon MAN, but he is an actual DRAGON. It's all a long story about wars and god-level curses and so on, but the basic gist of it is that he can transform into a large flame-spewing winged dragon. Now, when he DOES, all of his items vanish and he cannot make use of them. This is a shame because his weapon is stronger than his teeth (in terms of density) and his armor is stronger than his scales. In certain ways, he's safer while in humanoid form. THIS form is for destruction and flying and overwhelming strength. Unstable magic fields can have strange effects on him, though, maybe unpredictable ones. Maybe they'll be good or maybe they'll be bad. It all depends. This was already brought about by the death of the gods, as is, so things might get weird...

History: A troubling time...

Things were different for him from the start. Endrokin's life was not as you'd expect, and here is why. He lived in a world that did not have big gigantic scaley dragons. They were people. And he did not live in a world of elves. They were dead, all of them. And the world? It had been at war for a thousand years. Endrokin was sometimes bounty hunter and sometimes mercenary. He'd seen his share of this war. He was raised for battle. He was made for conflict! However, he did not desire this war. His mentor - another dragon calling himself Rattigan Von Krauser - taught him to revel in victory, not mere chaotic bloodshed. All war must come to a purpose, to win! This war, however, was without end. At least, it had been...

That time was lost, though. You see, he and two others - Who were they? Who were they? - were put through a powerful act of Chronomancy, the alteration of time through the forces of magic. Sent back two years before the war began, Endrokin and the others embarked on a journey to change the course of history and prevent the war. However...here is where things get strange. Now, it IS possible for Chronomancy to exist, and a significantly powerful object may be used to conduit its effects onto others to send them back in time. At the point in which they went back, though, time split apart to many possibilities, allowing the world to be forever changed in so many ways.

Now, whatever your time theory is, the fact is that the world of the war became alterable or traversable to other worlds or futures, however you happen to look at it. As a result, the past Endrokin was in became connected to THIS future, or present. And because the death of the gods occurred - with dragons having been affected by a CURSE from the gods - when all magic went haywire, it reached back and SNAPPED him forwards, his curse shattering and affected all things magical that were on him at the time. The curse had been a punishment to all his kind for past acts of incredible brutality, but that had all changed now.

He emerged into the world, an unfamiliar world, changed. He was no longer limited to the humanoid form, but there was a drawback. The sudden travel forwards in time had caused his memory to fail him as he absorbed details from THIS world. It was like someone was writing all over the book of his life, splintering what he recognized and did not as surely as the curse itself was broken. Now, he half-knows this world and half does not. The only things he is sure of is that he will fight and survive and be the glorious creature of the ages that he has always been.

Name: Galdari Thornmyre
Age: 23
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Description: Once, not so long ago even, Galdari was a warm and smiling face. Homely, even, if one could ignore the muscles that were required of a warrior of the faith. Twinkling eyes and a slight ruddiness to her cheeks not brought about by alcohol, but by mirth. That was a week ago. Not to mention the fact that she was definitely eating well- plenty of muscle and fat alike on her bones. A lot has changed in a week however. Where once there was mass, already it is now horrifyingly skinny. Her long brown hair, once shiny and lustrous, is now half-shaved and sickly. The half of her head that wasn't shaved has been left long, leaving it to tumble down the bare side in a strange style.

Ideally, a paladin's armour should never be stained. Hers, even before the apocalypse arrived, was slightly dinged up and dirty, but now is truly showing wear. The plate is gouged and some of the chain links are busted, but much of it is still relatively shiny and clean. The nicest of her equipment still is her weapons- a one-handed axe and her circular shield. She clings to these like a drowning man does a piece of wood, the holy symbol once proudly displayed around her neck now hastily stuffed and concealed away.

Those same eyes that once twinkled so brightly have been turned into sunken messes. Her mind is fragmented- held together by the barest string of sanity, but still she perseveres. For what reason she does not know, but as long as she can hold her tools, she perseveres.

Notable Belongings:

• Dustbringer, a plough reforged into a once-holy axeblade. Now reflects Galdari’s mind, in that it’s jagged and not quite right. Still holds some magic.
• A shield made from the wood of a cart. Circular, bossed and sturdy. Nothing magical about it.
• Full plate. A simple, steel set of armour.
• Symbol of the Goddess of Farming.

Backstory: Every child born into a farming community knows that they live and die on the harvest. The goddess of the farm then, is one of the most important to almost every peasant evet to live. Galdari was the daughter of a miller- growing up on a diet that allowed her to pack on some weight, and with enough physicality that she could hold her own in an arm wrestle. Pious and relatively pure, she was signed on to her local temple when she was twelve, and served there faithfully.

At first, her duties were mundane and boring. Scrubbing the temple floors. Replacing the rushes. Then they got more complicated. She sharpened blades for the paladins, mended the tapestries on the walls and ferried meals to and fro about the temple. When she was sixteen, she took up the mantle of a paladin-in-training, a role that mostly required her to walk about a lot around fields and occasionally kill the odd wolf or bear that poached from the flocks.

Now however, the warrior is anything but holy. Without her goddess, she wanders lost, no faith to cling to or temple to fall back on. Anything, however, is better than staying home. She must press on.

SPECIAL
Strength: 8
Perception: 6
Endurance: 7
Charisma: 4
Intelligence: 5
Agility: 4
Luck: 6

Name: Gangraena.
Age: 12002.
Race: Undead(Human).
Sex: Female.
Description:

Truly a figure which most would dread to see coming at them. She stands at an even six foot tall and weighs a solid one hundred and ninety pounds though most wouldn't be able to tell since she looks like she weighs half that. Most would assume a warrior such as herself would have sizeable muscles but her body looks soft and feminine, at least the parts that remain. Given the fact she's animated with dark magic muscles are hardly necessary since biologically speaking she has no right to be moving at all, let alone with such strength.

Her skin is a blue tinged grey like that of a drowned corpse. Her body might be a bit less bloated than the average floater but she looks no less drowned. Her hair is a murky dark green, not unlike kelp. Her hair is straight albeit messy more often than not and cut just above her neckline. Her face while bearing some slender femininity is a bit rounder, a softer jawline with cheeks that are more full with a lower cheekbone that accentuates the eyes which... Well, require some explanation.

The sockets which once housed eyes are empty now. More than that the eyelids themselves are missing as well, leaving the eye sockets open up to the edges of the skull, leaving only the eyebrows. Inside the hollow apertures her eyes once occupied is a deep darkness, an abyss so black staring deeply into them can leave one's grip on sanity loosened. As though swimming in the shores of the fathomless darkness which appears to stretch on for eternity are two spheres of winding light in an unearthly yellow hue, one mote for each socket.

Her armor is no less imposing than herself despite it's piecemeal collection of parts. Her helmet is a large dark iron greathelm, concealing all but the intangible clots of yellow light that serve as her eyes which shine through the narrow eye slots. Her body armor was actually taken from a famed "Turtle Knight", a massive breastplate far too heavy for any average knight to use. It's plates are half an inch thick and curved in the shape of a turtle's shell, something most knights would find unmanageable but she doesn't seem to mind it's motion restrictive design and excessive mass. For shoulder protection she wears a large set of dark iron pauldrons. On her arms she wears dark iron gauntlets and vambraces. Her legs are protected with a set of gilded but scratched iron greaves complete with once elaborate cuisses that look like whatever designs they were embossed with has been smashed into a spangle of loose metal atop the plates. Her weapon is a large ship anchor which has been covered with more than few centuries worth of rust, wielded by the loop it's tied by. It's attached to a chain which is wrapped several times around her left arm which is her dominant arm.

Notable Belongings:

- Her anchor. Despite the endless years of rust the old makeshift weapon's thickness had ensured it's survival so far. It may be pocked and riddled with old barnacle shells but it still holds up to both the rigors of travel and the trials of combat. The chain attached to it's ring is a recent addition, the original one having broken apart deep below the waves quite a while ago.

- Her armor. A collection of borrowed pieces from foes she has slain. Some parts are even segments of armor that have been strapped or crudely nailed onto preexisting articles. She tends to show preference towards heavier, more protective gear.

Backstory:

In the beginning Gangraena was the daughter in the lineage of famous knights. Practically every single member of her family had gone on to serve in knighthood, most becoming the stuff of legends once they shuffle off their mortal coil. Man and women alike, there wasn't a single member of her family that didn't fight. She was strong yes but to call her slow witted would be an understatement. Even the wooden training dummies took quicker to learning the arts of combat than she did. Still, she eventually did learn a thing or two though her basic technique still basically boiled down to "Hit target real hard". When the time came she was knighted and sent forth on her very first mission. She was to sail across the Ondorss sea alongside a detachment of her fellow knights as well as a crew to man the ship. It was there they would reinforce a fort bordering barbarian lands.

Of course right in the middle of their voyage a terrible storm struck, overturning their ship and sending all aboard it off into the roiling waters.

Most of the sailors aboard the ship drowned that night but Gangraena's fate was chosen by a different force. As she drowned shadowy forces dragged her below, pulling her body well into the depths. Her form drifted in between the great oceanic crags and into the great tear in the earth's face below the waves.

So deep below she was pulled. She was dragged into depths which in ordinary circumstances would hold pressures too great for the soft bodies of most surface dwellers. This was no ordinary circumstance however, dark magic protecting her from the dangers of the deep until she was brought into a long forgotten temple which had sunk into the ocean ages ago. This mysterious entity took her into it's flooded halls and set her upon it's unearthly altar.

When she awoke everything was grey. Strange symbols littered the walls and statues of some olden ichthyoid deity were scattered about, some mostly intact and others not so much. Without any instruction or purpose she started to float about without direction. As she swam from the temple she was starting to float away so she grasped for something to hold onto. She managed to grab hold of the anchor which had fallen off her ship which was destroyed in the storm. With the anchor weighing her down she was able to set her feet on the ground and begin upon her long trek, dragging the anchor along behind her like it was some old oar.

_
From then on she simply walked. She had no direction to follow so she'd simply walk until she ran into something and then try to walk around that. This continued for thousands upon thousands of years. Though long as such a trek might be it could of been shorter but she had a terrible sense of direction and often wound up walking in circles for many years at a time. Sometimes she would fall into pits that could swallow mountains and occasionally she'd run into mountains that make those of the surface world seem pitifully small by comparison. Being a realm vastly larger than the surface land it's features often dwarfed those that appeared above

After such an unfathomably long time spent wandering the vast sea floor she eventually came upon a shore. Trudging up this deep sea creature of undeath continued along the sandy coast until she found a quaint little fishing village. At first they were terrified but after a while they came to accept that she meant no harm. She spent a fair amount of time among them, slowly learning their language and how to fish. Over the course of many generations she eventually got the hang of both.

Such was life until a humble mercenary company came through one day. They were a respectable bunch of warriors who needed a place to stay and restock their supplies. When they saw how strong Gangraena was they were thoroughly impressed. They offered her a place in their company if she wanted to fight alongside them. She accepted the offer and went along with them the day after. Since then she's fought many battles, now wielding her anchor as a tool of death rather than just an old keepsake. Over the years they'd lose men both to battle and to sickness. Eventually after a few bad bouts of combat the company was all but wiped out. It was just her and the captain who had suffered severe wounds in the end. He decided if he did survive his injuries he was just going to retire on what funds they had left. Thus Gangraena was the only remaining member of their company.

Since fighting was what she knew best she decided to just keep up what she'd been doing so far. She traveled the land now a lone mercenary, killing for coin to afford repairs on her armor. Then the cataclysm happened. Since the power she was bestowed rested within her it was almost as if nothing had changed. She felt no weaker and now there was more demand for mercenaries than ever before.

This is where her story begins.

Magic:

She's been reanimated by a dark, ancient power that calls her physical form home. As such there's a number of changes to her, some simply being facets of being undead and others brought upon her by the forgotten one's power.

Firstly as a member of the undead she no longer holds the needs of the living. She does not need to eat, sleep, drink or even breath. Diseases and poisons sit idle in her flesh for her blood had ran still long ago. She no longer experiences fatigue and can exert herself endlessly without fail. While she no longer feels pain nor the comforts of warmth she still holds a dim sense of touch.

She has no eyes of the tangible variety but she can see perfectly fine, not only in the light but also in the darkness no matter how tenebrous it may be. This comes at the cost of being able to see in color, leaving her only able to see in shades of grey. She no longer holds any sense of taste or smell either.

In addition to the traits of her undead are the dark gifts bestowed upon her. She holds a strength far greater than any mundane man or beast. The entirety of her body is connected by this strange power so that even if an arm, a leg or even her head is removed she can control them no less than when they were still attached to her. Not only does this long forgotten essence keep her flesh from rotting like some mere cadaver but it also protects her from the harsh tolls of the water. While the beasts of the sea once respected the pact that was made between the waters and her sunken benefactor that may have changed since the cataclysm. Where once no beast of the waters would prey upon her now only fate knows which water dwelling creature still respects their ancient oath.

Though sometimes a boon undeath carries a number of drawbacks as well. The most notable drawback is that as she is no longer alive her flesh does not knit together over time like the living do. While she may not decay every wound she receives never leaves her. Her only means of maintaining structural stability is to patch together the skin with thread and, in more severe cases, to nail metal braces to the bone.

Due to the nature of the power animating her any remaining magic derived from the gods of light and life will naturally react negatively when exposed to her dark essence. Necromancy however is especially effective on her given her undead state. This can be either a boon or a curse depending on the whims of the necromancer.

Strength = 10.
Perception = 3.
Endurance = 10.
Charisma = 5.
Intelligence = 2.
Agility = 2.
Luck = 8.