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| "Ask not for whom the bell tolls..." _____________________________________________________ NAME: Cavan _______________________________________________ EPITHET: Harbinger of Death _______________________________________________ AGE: ??? _______________________________________________ PRONOUNS: He/Him _______________________________________________ HEIGHT: 7β _______________________________________________ WEIGHT: 275 Lb. _______________________________________________ NATIONALITY: Ireland _______________________________________________ LIKES: Pub games, fighting, order, singing _______________________________________________ DISLIKES: Cowardice, cheating, disorder, anyone that sings off key |
βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββOVERVIEW
"Stand and deliver, knave!"βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ"What are you lookinβ at!?"βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββCavan is a Dullahan; one of the headless riders of Irish folklore. In this current age, though his body is still armored, he also wears a leather jacket. In battle, ghostly blue flames swirl and surge from between his joints, and atop his shoulders where a head should be. He keeps/wears a helm with eyes and a mouth cut like a jack βo lantern on the front, in place of a proper head. He carries a shield, and a lance instead of a sword, or the traditional βspine whipβ his kind are known for.
βDeath, before dishonorβ¦ And I cannot die!ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββCavan takes himself pretty seriously, to the point where he doesn't always notice when someone else is joking. He pursues and adheres to his obligations, even if it means shoving someone else to the side.
He's not malicious, but being subject to the whims of mortals for so long has made him bitter, and unconcerned about harming them.
In spite of himself, he can never say no to pub games; anything from darts to pool to "shut-the-box" (but god help you, if you cheat...)
"D'fhulaing mΓ©"(I have suffered)βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββOnce upon a time, there was a stoic and diligent Dullahan. He knew the pathways between worlds, even to the afterlife! His task in existence was to travel where the Banshee's cried, and witness the dying of mortals. By doing so, he could direct the dead where they needed to go. He never questioned it, or wanted anything more- he was a Dullahan; this was his purpose, and he was content.
One night, when the moon was full, he was relaxing in a field, when he was caught by surprise! A witch had cast spells upon him, and took ownership of his head, binding him to serve her, and her family, until they should choose to return it.
The witch named him "Cavan", and that was the beginning of his life in proverbial chains...
He was compelled to obey, serving them as though he were a knight in service to their house. He watched generations come and go, and he hated every last one of them.
When you're immortal(or don't have to sleep, for that matter), you find yourself with a lot of time to just... Watch the world go by, which is precisely what Cavan did. So, the modern world doesn't confuse or frustrate him, just his inability to freely engage with it. Often, he'd go long stretches of time just... standing in one spot, until he's summoned. Sometimes his captors would allow the illusion of freedom, so long as he didn't get himself into any trouble they hadn't sanctioned, personally.
This latest master had been ordering him about since the brat was 13. He honed his combat skills across multiple titles, but this latest master was especially fond of starting fights for Cavan to finish. Since there was money to be made in just... Taking things, and he got a sick thrill out of making Cavan hurt people, it was no surprise when he found himself a tool of the League of Bounty Hunters. Of course, the master wouldn't join the tournament himself, but he wanted a Stone of Power to further his position within the League. So, Cavan was "volun-told" to enter on his behalf. He'd heard tales of the Stones, and his own aim was clear:
Once he got hold of that stone, he hoped to attain the power to defy his master. He'd force the whelp to return his head and release him from his servitude. Then, he'd have his vengeance against him, and his whole family for what they'd done to him...
FIGHTING STYLE & ABILITIES
"Enough talk; have at you!"βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ"Skill is an investment of time, and I have trained for CENTURIES!"βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββCavan is a jouster, his strongest combat form being the use of polearms. The lance is his specialty, which heβs also managed to develop into his own weapons form without the need of being on a mount! He also carries a shield, useful for defense, whether heβs swinging into a slow, but heavy attack, or pushing a series of faster strikes. Hands down, his strongest method is using the shield itself to knock and opponent off balance, enabling him to make more devastating blows. Heβs not helpless without his weapons, however. Heβs effective at fisticuffs, and is a fearsome street fighter.
"Heads up!"βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ[Particularly useful when weapons are locked, or pinned down by multiple opponents, the Helm Strike is performed by willing his helm to strike an opponent as though heβd thrown it with full force. It automatically returns to itβs place atop his shoulders, whether he landed a blow or not.]
[At some risk to himself, his shield is held aside, lowering his defense while he leans into a rapid fire strike with his lance. Itβs capable of multiple strikes, depending on how close he was to the target- potentially lethal.]
[relatively simple; a charging opponent is struck from below with shield, thrown into the air, and struck hard with the lance on their way back down.]
[A simple forward thrust with his lance.]
[Either his shield or lance are used to deflect a blow.]
[like the Jab, only slower, and more powerful.]
"You know not the forces you meddle with."βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ[The ghostly flame that swirls and emits from his body surges, his armor and weapons separate and swirl around fast and hard as the supernatural flame-tornado seeks out itβs target, pins them down, and pummels them into oblivion!]
[Lance pointed forward, his spirit flame launches him forward like a missile! Not very accurate, but devastating when it hits.]
[He marches toward the opponent with his arms outstretched, spinning rapidly with his torso, striking multiple times until the opponent falls below the strike range.]
"Tell me of the loneliness of defeatβ¦ Is it equal, to the loneliness of eternity?"βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββHe doesnβt have any advantage against ranged attacks, and Ki has proven to be an equalizer against his magic fueled power. He often hesitates, and even holds back if he finds he sympathizes with an opponent or target. As a creature of The Fae, he's very proud, and easily provoked. Another fearie trait is that he can be compelled to answer any question truthfully, if the question is asked 3 consecutive times (He appreciates that most mortals have forgotten about this).