HowlsOfWinter sad but rad
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
Filthy Mudblood love the dress. hate her.
Member
Seen
6 mos ago
@Mae I'm picturing in my mind Darya's realm to be very similiar to that of Eris' in that Sinbad movie. She would have a magical globe thing that basically shows her all that takes place in the world in which she would sprinkle her chaos and laughter wherever she sees fit. She'd probabaly rest on a bed of clouds, too, just for dramatic effect. The realm itself would be pretty small, but very difficult to enter.
Inertia Pretty Lackadaisical
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
I'm picturing a simple, pretty normal land (compared to the grandeur realms of the Gods, Tempus doesn't really care much about it, also partly cause he's almost never home) that's fairly sized. There would be this consistent, grinding gear noise that almost always seems relative to the listener.
Most peculiar thing would be the room where he watches the timeline/timestream. It would be bathed in colours of pure white and gray, something like this.
Hmm another area he's particularly fond off is the terrace where he can watch (artificial) sun set through the meadows and bask in it's beauty.
Most peculiar thing would be the room where he watches the timeline/timestream. It would be bathed in colours of pure white and gray, something like this.
Hmm another area he's particularly fond off is the terrace where he can watch (artificial) sun set through the meadows and bask in it's beauty.
RedDusk Likes cheese and slacking
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
@Mae Rex himself never had a realm of his own creation, however, he did have a place he called home. Three guesses? It was the Void. A vastness of empty space and darkness, and breeding grounds for unspeakable horrors. It was believed that some primordial gods, including Rex himself, first emerged from the its watery depth. While out of his body (or any mortal bodies for that matter), he constantly feels its pull. Back in his better days, Rex was known to succumb to the pull every now and then, crawling back under the blanket of darkness for a nap every few centuries before emerging again. It was fitting that the gods who killed him chose it as his burial site, as well as many others. The realm itself does not fall to the manipulation from any other gods, including Rex himself, and was considered hostile to any form of life and even the smaller hint of power. Rex is just better adapted to its darkness than most.
Angel Eyes ...
Member
Seen
12 days ago
Sarcelle Renard How I handle deadlines
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
@Mae Surprisingly, Ledo's realm is a rather cluttered mess for such a pragmatic god. All sorts of useless trinkets litter the ground of the place, a testament to the countless number of offerings that have been made in his name to find some lost person. Since it is the intent associated with burning the offering he values, the items themselves hold next to no value to him.
The realm itself is modest in size and appears as a secluded clearing amidst a large forest grove. Trees of of all shapes and sizes grow within, with a monstrous oak tree growing in the center of the clearing, easilly towering over the rest. While Ledo finds the place quite soothing, his duties as a god made his visits few and far between. So instead of letting it waste away, the god has opened it up as a haven of sorts for the mundane and mythical alike, although humans can only gain admittance by the god himself.
Perhaps it is fitting then that the place is referred to as Ledo's Refuge in stories, although actual descriptions of the place vary wildly among mortals.
The realm itself is modest in size and appears as a secluded clearing amidst a large forest grove. Trees of of all shapes and sizes grow within, with a monstrous oak tree growing in the center of the clearing, easilly towering over the rest. While Ledo finds the place quite soothing, his duties as a god made his visits few and far between. So instead of letting it waste away, the god has opened it up as a haven of sorts for the mundane and mythical alike, although humans can only gain admittance by the god himself.
Perhaps it is fitting then that the place is referred to as Ledo's Refuge in stories, although actual descriptions of the place vary wildly among mortals.
RedXCross Dig, Dig, Dig...
Member
Seen
6 mos ago
⍚ AZIRA ⥥ 24 ⥥ FEMALE ⥥ PANSEXUAL ⍚
"You know me? That is impossible. My secrets are deeper than the ocean."
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
Tall, dominating and stone-faced, Azira stands at 5'9" but her posture makes her appear as 6'. Her form moves gracefully across muck and water as if she were walking on the smoothest of land, and you can see the quiet outline of muscle hidden beneath her pallid complexion. Her hair is long and burgundy and it is held back usually behind a wreath or simply tied back around her head so that all can see the symmetry of her face. Her eyes are deep and dark like a thick liquid and they glimmer in their solidity. Everything about her seems beautiful, but heavy. It leaves quite the impression, but it also doesn't seem to be affected by much else. Her clothing is only borderline practical for her environment, but usually she'll wear leather around her hands and looser clothes that appear close to the leaves of plants along the ground. Often her arms will remain bare, though she'll wear a mantle of fur if the weather calls for it. Despite her carefully crafted appearance, there is still the remnants of dirt under her nails, and it doesn't seem to ever go away.
Her mark actually outlines her eyes. Two dark ellipses that only add to her mystery and danger. As she uses her power the mark pours like liquid down her cheeks. It begins to trace a skull-like mask over her features until her last power is used, and the blackness solidifies within the outline immediately.
Her mark actually outlines her eyes. Two dark ellipses that only add to her mystery and danger. As she uses her power the mark pours like liquid down her cheeks. It begins to trace a skull-like mask over her features until her last power is used, and the blackness solidifies within the outline immediately.
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
Everything about Azira gives the impression of a stage performance. From her dramatic manner of speaking to the way she carries herself, she is always prepared to give the performance of her lifetime, and that role is to remind everyone around her that she is the one who makes the decisions and she will find the leverage she needs to get everything from you. She is perfectly capable of being sincere and kind in one moment and then owning you like a puppet master in the next. Some people rumour that her gaze alone is enough to send demons toppling to the ground and monsters scrabbling away. If she sees something she wants, she will find what she needs in order to own it, but the goal is to make them believe that they wanted to give it to her in the first place.
The one thing she doesn't ever show anyone else is her tears. She keeps those to herself, and they are a reminder of the person she's been forced to become. She isn't above killing those that see her cry because she's also quite paranoid and trusts very few. She knows that her power has come from years of effective social manipulation, and she isn't going to reveal any weaknesses in herself because she's supposed to have none. Because of this, she's very sombre in her own time, and despite being resolved to being alone, the pain of loneliness is a sadness she seems incapable of escaping.
And true joy is always out of her reach.
The one thing she doesn't ever show anyone else is her tears. She keeps those to herself, and they are a reminder of the person she's been forced to become. She isn't above killing those that see her cry because she's also quite paranoid and trusts very few. She knows that her power has come from years of effective social manipulation, and she isn't going to reveal any weaknesses in herself because she's supposed to have none. Because of this, she's very sombre in her own time, and despite being resolved to being alone, the pain of loneliness is a sadness she seems incapable of escaping.
And true joy is always out of her reach.
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
Originally born to the Rumasra tribe, Azira grew up as a protected treasure of beauty. Her father was one of the most effective fishermen in the village, and he raised his daughter in the trade from the time she was young. Her mother was known as one of the most beautiful women in the marsh, but people predicted that their daughter would one day surpass her in beauty. Those claims probably should've been kept quieter, because it seemed fate was listening. Azira's mother got sick and passed from an unknown disease when she was around the age of eight. Her father was miserable without the presence of his wife, and he could barely fish anymore without thinking of the trips that the family had spent together, so he took his daughter and the left to see the world beyond their own.
Her father, it turned out, was not native to Rumasra at all. He'd been a traveller as a young boy and a mercenary of some sort. He began to teach his daughter the ways of the traveller, and it seemed like she would begin to excel. Her father was amazed by the way she would trade with people, and how she could easily con them out of things they probably needed so that they could survive. He saw the way she carried this mantle. Her beauty became a weapon, and its weight was clear on her face. She held her father's head close, somewhere near Hollafoth territory one day around the age of fourteen, and her father was stabbed by a vicious man that wished to take her as his wife. She caught him off guard by appearing to move towards him willingly before she took his own knife and did what he'd done to her father ten times over. Her father begged her to not let the weight of her weapon weigh too heavily on her shoulders, but at this point, she learned that the only way to get what she wanted was to use whatever tricks she could to stay alive in this vicious world.
It was in this way that she would succeed. Around the age of seventeen, she was found alone by a pair of Karillian slavers who wanted to bring her along as "entertainment for their chief", but this would prove to be a dangerous mistake. She pretended to offer herself to one of the men and killed him in his lust, then dragged the other along with him when they realised their companion was missing. She then took up the slave caravan herself, using that dangerous beauty that was her own to keep the slaves in line, and offered them to her victims' leader in exchange for a position in their tribe as a performer and bodyguard. When they asked her where she came from, she lied and claimed to be Longear, for she shared that aspect of beauty, but her flattering words about how she longed to be part of the strongest tribe were enough to secure her position. From then on she remained loyal to the important members of the Karill, keeping her mask firmly in place and picking up their secrets from behind the scenes.
Because one day she would need them.
Maybe she could even become their leader.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
Her father, it turned out, was not native to Rumasra at all. He'd been a traveller as a young boy and a mercenary of some sort. He began to teach his daughter the ways of the traveller, and it seemed like she would begin to excel. Her father was amazed by the way she would trade with people, and how she could easily con them out of things they probably needed so that they could survive. He saw the way she carried this mantle. Her beauty became a weapon, and its weight was clear on her face. She held her father's head close, somewhere near Hollafoth territory one day around the age of fourteen, and her father was stabbed by a vicious man that wished to take her as his wife. She caught him off guard by appearing to move towards him willingly before she took his own knife and did what he'd done to her father ten times over. Her father begged her to not let the weight of her weapon weigh too heavily on her shoulders, but at this point, she learned that the only way to get what she wanted was to use whatever tricks she could to stay alive in this vicious world.
It was in this way that she would succeed. Around the age of seventeen, she was found alone by a pair of Karillian slavers who wanted to bring her along as "entertainment for their chief", but this would prove to be a dangerous mistake. She pretended to offer herself to one of the men and killed him in his lust, then dragged the other along with him when they realised their companion was missing. She then took up the slave caravan herself, using that dangerous beauty that was her own to keep the slaves in line, and offered them to her victims' leader in exchange for a position in their tribe as a performer and bodyguard. When they asked her where she came from, she lied and claimed to be Longear, for she shared that aspect of beauty, but her flattering words about how she longed to be part of the strongest tribe were enough to secure her position. From then on she remained loyal to the important members of the Karill, keeping her mask firmly in place and picking up their secrets from behind the scenes.
Because one day she would need them.
Maybe she could even become their leader.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ S I G M A ⥥ SECRETS, IDENTITY, PERSONA ⥥ ---⥥ PANSEXUAL ⍚
DARK GOD
<... The Patron of Liars
and the Angel of Image
took the first secret
and held it within him
so soon did he place a mask on their faces
and no, we can't see what was hidden...>
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
A tall figure made of dark smoke and astral ash that rises to be roughly 9 feet tall in the eyes of man. Blue fire is constantly floating around their dark, billowing form, and only the outline of some form can be made out underneath their dark, flowing robes. They are never seen with "feet" on the ground. Instead, they have massive wings three times the size of their own form and long, bony hands that reach out like spikes. Their most prominent feature, however, is their bronze face. A mask or face that is polished and flawless. It is said that looking into their face reflects your true self. Otherwise it glimmers in bright sun and creates a spectrum of color in the depth of night
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
- Secrets
- Lies
- Identity
- Persona
- Masks
- Image
- Self-perception
Referred to as the Patron of Liars and the Angel of Image, Sigma was known for bringing secrets into the world and keeping them to himself. They don't share secrets they are told with anyone, but secrets kept from him are free to share. It is said that if you can stare into their face, face your true identity and tell them one of your secrets, they will keep it forever and it will never be known until that person wills it. As such, sometimes followers believe them to be a God of Truth because they believe that Sigma encourages them to remain true to themselves. In reality, Sigma enjoys watching the masks people craft for themselves, but reminds them constantly that Sigma will always know what they're trying to hide.
Sigma actually appears to those who call out to them. All it requires is a keystone of some kind and their name written in ash using any language, and they will appear to those that call them. Those that cannot face their own identity are crushed under the weight of their persona, while others have their secrets locked away forever by the God of Secrets themself. They aren't praised openly as they are seen as a shameful God, but those that are always required to keep up appearances tend to pray to them often.
Titles:
- Angel of Image
- Secret Keeper
- Patron of Lies
- The Corrupted Masterpiece (A poetic line i.e. "and Sigma, the Corrupted Masterpiece flew")
Astral Plane: A long, dried place of terrain that stretches out into the mist and stops some place in the distance. Walking through the mist will only loop to the other side of the place unless you know the actual exit. The place is laid out like a massive graveyard. Gravestones of various eras and times are scattered across the plane, one for each mortal on earth, and on each of these stones, their secrets are inscribed into a sigil. They can pull these secrets out of the stone as blue flames and do with them as they please. Even the Gods have stones of their own, and they rise out from the centre in a form like Stonehenge, and at the center of this is a pool of black liquid. The sealed secrets that they promise to keep are kept in the pool, and touching it without Sigma's permission is met by ugly corrosion and deformity. In reverse to a graveyard, the stone actually cracks and turns to dust when a person dies. That being said, if a person dies with a heart full of secrets that were never given away, or they feel regret for not sharing their truth, their spirit comes as a ghost to this world, and Sigma will own that spirit for as long as they deem it fit for the weight of their secrets.
It is said that Sigma can only see their old face when they stare into the pool, which is why they spend so much time in their own realm when not with the humans on earth.
- Lies
- Identity
- Persona
- Masks
- Image
- Self-perception
Referred to as the Patron of Liars and the Angel of Image, Sigma was known for bringing secrets into the world and keeping them to himself. They don't share secrets they are told with anyone, but secrets kept from him are free to share. It is said that if you can stare into their face, face your true identity and tell them one of your secrets, they will keep it forever and it will never be known until that person wills it. As such, sometimes followers believe them to be a God of Truth because they believe that Sigma encourages them to remain true to themselves. In reality, Sigma enjoys watching the masks people craft for themselves, but reminds them constantly that Sigma will always know what they're trying to hide.
Sigma actually appears to those who call out to them. All it requires is a keystone of some kind and their name written in ash using any language, and they will appear to those that call them. Those that cannot face their own identity are crushed under the weight of their persona, while others have their secrets locked away forever by the God of Secrets themself. They aren't praised openly as they are seen as a shameful God, but those that are always required to keep up appearances tend to pray to them often.
Titles:
- Angel of Image
- Secret Keeper
- Patron of Lies
- The Corrupted Masterpiece (A poetic line i.e. "and Sigma, the Corrupted Masterpiece flew")
Astral Plane: A long, dried place of terrain that stretches out into the mist and stops some place in the distance. Walking through the mist will only loop to the other side of the place unless you know the actual exit. The place is laid out like a massive graveyard. Gravestones of various eras and times are scattered across the plane, one for each mortal on earth, and on each of these stones, their secrets are inscribed into a sigil. They can pull these secrets out of the stone as blue flames and do with them as they please. Even the Gods have stones of their own, and they rise out from the centre in a form like Stonehenge, and at the center of this is a pool of black liquid. The sealed secrets that they promise to keep are kept in the pool, and touching it without Sigma's permission is met by ugly corrosion and deformity. In reverse to a graveyard, the stone actually cracks and turns to dust when a person dies. That being said, if a person dies with a heart full of secrets that were never given away, or they feel regret for not sharing their truth, their spirit comes as a ghost to this world, and Sigma will own that spirit for as long as they deem it fit for the weight of their secrets.
It is said that Sigma can only see their old face when they stare into the pool, which is why they spend so much time in their own realm when not with the humans on earth.
[ ⍚ ] F O R M A T I V E M O M E N T S I N H I S T O R Y
It is said that Sigma was once a beautiful being...
Some believe that Sigma has been around since before time began, and they're always the centre of the Gods' suspicious behaviour. Immortals may have more secrets than most, and as such Sigma existed initially to safeguard them and keep them from others. Over time, Sigma started to become corrupted by the secrets the Gods held from each other. Dangerous spite and poisonous malcontent. The stories of a family murdered and friends dishonoured were all passed to Sigma secret after secret, and Sigma began to lose their angelic beauty. They became faceless and their body lost its form because they only way they could remain honest to identity was to give up identity themselves.
But Sigma was still the best at keeping secrets. Over time they began to realize how much power they had over others because of the secrets they held, and as such, they could find the Gods biggest fears or worst nightmares. And they knew that most would choose to die instead of being separated from their Starkissed. As such, they hold secrets like a weapon and identity as their greatest strength. Often Sigma reminds Gods of how similar they are to the mortals they created and reminds them of the weight of carrying a persona.
Sigma volunteered to begin cursing those other Gods. The ones that claimed they weren't "dark" for one purpose or another. They were all actors and liars, and they deserved to remember that they weren't different from the others. Still duty-bound, they hid all their secrets within their plane and used some to find those foolish Gods that tried to hide. Then, they volunteered to take mortal form themselves out of a selfish desire.
For as a mortal, perhaps Sigma could have a face again.
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
- Performance - Azira is proficient in flattery, and usually faces no issue in using this to get what she wants, particularly when it comes to the opposite gender or those sexually attracted to them. One of their greatest skills is the mask they wear to convince others of their usefulness.
- Perception - Azira is quite skilled at reading people. She's become proficient in acknowledging the body language and behaviour of people and she can usually tell what someone is "actually" trying to say.
- Nimble Hands - Usually finding something to barter with, Azira became pretty good at making small things out of the dirt or the nature around them and selling it on the road. This could be beneficial in the way of lockpicking or pickpocketing as well. Untying knots? No problem!
- Scavenger - While Azira was usually exempt from hunting (or she would find someone to do it for her), she became great at looking through places, finding plants and fruits and small rodents that were edible with her own hands and finding what she needed to keep going.
- Brute Strength - Hiding behind her delicate persona is a woman of dangerous strength. She can overpower most woman and men her size and she isn't above strangling someone or using her hands to kill. When on the road, sometimes you'd have to break the sturdy bones of your kill.
- Daggers - Almost a Rumasra staple, Azira is great at using daggers both in direct combat and stealth. She's smart enough to know that going for the kill is the best way to make it out alive.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
These will unlock as we continue.
Life Force: 20/20
Patron of Lies
]Sigma knows of the lies people tell to hide their shame and their sorrows.
Liar's Remorse
Sigma reveals one lie that a person has been keeping to themselves that could either be incredibly relevant or entirely insignificant to the situation the find themselves in.
I Know the Truth
While using the power, they can ask one question and the person they're speaking to is compelled to tell the truth, though the question must be answered in thirty seconds. They also cannot use this power in the presence of people outside the user and the target.
Mask of Secrets
For a brief period of time, (about an hour) the mortal coil's face is hidden behind a smokey, skull-like mask. While that mask exists, they can see any lie that a person will tell and can discern what a persons intentions are in that moment.
Sigma reveals one lie that a person has been keeping to themselves that could either be incredibly relevant or entirely insignificant to the situation the find themselves in.
I Know the Truth
While using the power, they can ask one question and the person they're speaking to is compelled to tell the truth, though the question must be answered in thirty seconds. They also cannot use this power in the presence of people outside the user and the target.
Mask of Secrets
For a brief period of time, (about an hour) the mortal coil's face is hidden behind a smokey, skull-like mask. While that mask exists, they can see any lie that a person will tell and can discern what a persons intentions are in that moment.
Angel of Image
How much of you is the True Self? Or is it just a mask you wear?
The Human Persona
While in the presence of another person, they can copy that person's behaviour from their fighting style to their movement or demeanor for a couple hours. Note: Does not apply to magical skills.
The Hero's Persona
A golden mask adorns their face in a tribal fashion, and they are filled with the confidence of a warrior. Their combat skills increase for five to seven minutes (the length of a long fight), and people will see this God as righteous or noble.
Reflection of the Self
For a few hours, the mortal coil takes on the appearance of another living being and can act exactly as them without complication. If someone calls them by the name of their mortal coil, however, the illusion will fall apart immediately.
While in the presence of another person, they can copy that person's behaviour from their fighting style to their movement or demeanor for a couple hours. Note: Does not apply to magical skills.
The Hero's Persona
A golden mask adorns their face in a tribal fashion, and they are filled with the confidence of a warrior. Their combat skills increase for five to seven minutes (the length of a long fight), and people will see this God as righteous or noble.
Reflection of the Self
For a few hours, the mortal coil takes on the appearance of another living being and can act exactly as them without complication. If someone calls them by the name of their mortal coil, however, the illusion will fall apart immediately.
The Corrupted Masterpiece
Sigma is painfully aware of the self they have lost, and the secrets the carry continue to churn their soul.
The Weight of an Image
A target is suddenly faced with the weight of their lies and secrets, as all their reflections and their vision of themselves becomes twisted and terrifying. This image shatters if they are willing to give up their secrets, otherwise, they are cursed to look at what their lies have done to their soul. They appear worse with each dark secret, and others will see the reflection in reflective surfaces.
Divine Blackmail
A secret they've discovered becomes a ball of blue flame in their hand, and they trap that person into their servitude. If they refuse, they are struck with incredible pain that gets worse for how far separated your true identity is from your persona. And like most of their powers, if the person being controlled can discover the secret Sigma is holding, they can free themselves from their grasp.
Sigma's Tears
The space grows dark as the mist rises from the ground and the sky is stained grey. Black ash scorches the ground behind them with the large shadows of giant wings as the bronze face returns as a mask for only a moment, and the world around them changes. People's personas separate from the individual, leaving a dark, terrifying monster representative of what they've been hiding, and those monsters slay those that wore them before they continue to traverse the earth, twisted and damaged. The person's soul cannot rest until their persona is defeated, and Sigma's mortal coil falls down dead with no persona to separate from themself.
A target is suddenly faced with the weight of their lies and secrets, as all their reflections and their vision of themselves becomes twisted and terrifying. This image shatters if they are willing to give up their secrets, otherwise, they are cursed to look at what their lies have done to their soul. They appear worse with each dark secret, and others will see the reflection in reflective surfaces.
Divine Blackmail
A secret they've discovered becomes a ball of blue flame in their hand, and they trap that person into their servitude. If they refuse, they are struck with incredible pain that gets worse for how far separated your true identity is from your persona. And like most of their powers, if the person being controlled can discover the secret Sigma is holding, they can free themselves from their grasp.
Sigma's Tears
The space grows dark as the mist rises from the ground and the sky is stained grey. Black ash scorches the ground behind them with the large shadows of giant wings as the bronze face returns as a mask for only a moment, and the world around them changes. People's personas separate from the individual, leaving a dark, terrifying monster representative of what they've been hiding, and those monsters slay those that wore them before they continue to traverse the earth, twisted and damaged. The person's soul cannot rest until their persona is defeated, and Sigma's mortal coil falls down dead with no persona to separate from themself.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
- Two ornate Daggers of Karill origin
- a white performance mask
- A silver ring, representing her loyalty to the Karill leader
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R
Colour Code: 18A0B3
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: Sure.
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
I'm awful, but I really wanted to so here's another character for your review.
Ashevelendar Linde Service Desk
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Can anyone give me a link to the discord chat please ? On another PC and I don't have it :( @melo
13org Stay fresh!
Member
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0-24 hrs ago
coGM
Melo I am a hedgehog!
Member
Seen
12 mos ago
sakurasan you don't know how to wash your shoes
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
Oh my crap. Is it too late for me to get up my post?
13org Stay fresh!
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
coGM
Melo I am a hedgehog!
Member
Seen
12 mos ago
Oh my crap. Is it too late for me to get up my post?
If you mean your character sheet, no it is not too late.
sakurasan you don't know how to wash your shoes
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
13org Stay fresh!
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
[EDIT]
oops... sent the wrong CSS. this one still has some errors
oops... sent the wrong CSS. this one still has some errors
coGM
Melo I am a hedgehog!
Member
Seen
12 mos ago
[EDIT]
oops... sent the wrong CSS. this one still has some errors
No worries, looking forward to the end result
13org Stay fresh!
Member
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0-24 hrs ago
Ok, this is the final one (I hope 
)
PS:900 POST! YAAAY!!
*starts making plans to steal the 1000th one too*
The last one had some errors regarding the expressions used. For example: Wōtan is old high Germanic, and its from a different era than the rest of expressions I used. Mainly some anachronism problems.
⍚ Nanna "The Walküre" ⥥ 20 ⥥ Female ⥥ Heterosexual ⍚
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
⍚ Geirskögul ⥥ Goddess of spears, war and honor. ⥥ Female ⥥ Heterosexual ⍚
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
[ ⍚ ] F O R M A T I V E M O M E N T S I N H I S T O R Y
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
These will unlock. Only the first ability shall be available in their first life.
Life Force: 15/15 (ignore for now)
Walküre's Embodiment: Weakest Ability
Yggdrasil's Favor: Moderate Ability
Summon Gungnir: Strongest Ability
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
What is on your person
A drinking horn for... well... drinking of course!
>/list>
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R
368bc1 is her colour code
-List of old norse words with their translation:
-Geirskögul's realm is Asgard. You know the drill... Gods' city, very big city. She often hangs on Valhöll (Valhalla. Enormous hall in asgard where the spirit of those who fell in battle eat, drink and fight for their eternity, waiting for the Ragnarök.
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
O V E R V I E W :
N A R C I S S A
V A L E R I E
F L O R A N C E S T A N Z
X E N A
F L O R A N C E S T A N Z
V A D I K
É C L A I R
)PS:900 POST! YAAAY!!
*starts making plans to steal the 1000th one too*
The last one had some errors regarding the expressions used. For example: Wōtan is old high Germanic, and its from a different era than the rest of expressions I used. Mainly some anachronism problems.
⍚ Nanna "The Walküre" ⥥ 20 ⥥ Female ⥥ Heterosexual ⍚
"Cattle die, kinsmen die; the self must also die. But there is one thing which never dies: the judgement of a dead man's life."
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
Nanna stands at 1.98m, has blonde, almost silver, long hair she uses tied, adorned with a couple of wooden carved hair beads, and a pair of bone carved earrings, with a spiral pattern on them.
She has a very strong body with defined muscles, yet slender and very feminine. The body of a battle tried skjaldmær. Her grey eye are famed for their enigmatic and piercing stare. If one looked at her would say she is just a very beautiful woman, if weren't for the imposing aura she emanated, the full leather and fur armor she wore or the long spear that were always with her.
Her curse takes form of the Helreið Brynhildar poem from the Poetic Edda. Each time she uses her powers, a part of the poem begins glowing, with a fiery red, like it was on fire.
Nanna usually wears a full leather armor. She always said that dresses are unpractical and would hinder her in combat. Her armor Is currently in tatters the lower part of her armor and the fur pants she wear underneath it are the only parts that are relatively unscathed. the upper torso of it is completely destroyed. She is currently using bandages to cover her upper torso.
She has a very strong body with defined muscles, yet slender and very feminine. The body of a battle tried skjaldmær. Her grey eye are famed for their enigmatic and piercing stare. If one looked at her would say she is just a very beautiful woman, if weren't for the imposing aura she emanated, the full leather and fur armor she wore or the long spear that were always with her.
Her curse takes form of the Helreið Brynhildar poem from the Poetic Edda. Each time she uses her powers, a part of the poem begins glowing, with a fiery red, like it was on fire.
Munu við ofstríð
alls til lengi
konur ok karlar
kvikvir fæðask;
við skulum okkrum
aldri slíta
Sigurðr saman.
Sökkstu, gýgjar kyn.
Ever with grief
and all too long
Are men and women
born in the world;
But yet we shall live
our lives together,
Sigurth and I.
Sink down, Giantess!
alls til lengi
konur ok karlar
kvikvir fæðask;
við skulum okkrum
aldri slíta
Sigurðr saman.
Sökkstu, gýgjar kyn.
Ever with grief
and all too long
Are men and women
born in the world;
But yet we shall live
our lives together,
Sigurth and I.
Sink down, Giantess!
Nanna usually wears a full leather armor. She always said that dresses are unpractical and would hinder her in combat. Her armor Is currently in tatters the lower part of her armor and the fur pants she wear underneath it are the only parts that are relatively unscathed. the upper torso of it is completely destroyed. She is currently using bandages to cover her upper torso.
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
Nanna is a very brave woman, exactly how her name says. In battle, she is fearless, concentrated, believes that one should never fear death in battle, as it was the right and most honorable way to die, but that doesn't mean she is a suicide. Her allies see in her an inspiration, as the brightest and biggest presence on the battlefield. Her foes' spirits falter at the sight of her imposing figure and aura.
Normally Nanna is very serious when dealing with strangers or when issuing orders, due to her position as shieldmaiden and the champion of her clan. If you're a stranger, chances are that you will never see her smiling, but when she is with friends or her soldiers, drinking and commemorating after a successful battle, she is very kind, cheerful and sweet (especially when she gets drunk after drinking far too many horns of mead). The ones who saw her smile say that is bright as the sun, heating the heart of even a veteran soldier.
Many men already tried to have her to their own, but Nanna, the Walküre, is not a regular woman.
Normally Nanna is very serious when dealing with strangers or when issuing orders, due to her position as shieldmaiden and the champion of her clan. If you're a stranger, chances are that you will never see her smiling, but when she is with friends or her soldiers, drinking and commemorating after a successful battle, she is very kind, cheerful and sweet (especially when she gets drunk after drinking far too many horns of mead). The ones who saw her smile say that is bright as the sun, heating the heart of even a veteran soldier.
Many men already tried to have her to their own, but Nanna, the Walküre, is not a regular woman.
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
Nanna was born in the cold mountains of north, where the frozen winds blow all year long, a place where only the strong survive. Since she was a child she had an unusual attraction to spears. Even as baby, she always was trying to get to her father's spear to play with it. A she grew up, she began showing an incredible prowess in fighting with one, going as far as being declared champion of her clan with only 15 years old.
As Nanna grew older, she turned into an exemplar skjaldmær. Every battle she participated she brought victory to her clan. Fearless in battle, her eyes pierced her enemies, only her presence was enough to change the battle. The tales of a skjaldmær whose spear never misses her target began to spread in the north clans. With her fame spreading, she got the title of "The Walküre", as a skjaldmær who had the spirit of a true warrior.
Using a very unique style of fighting, she danced through the battlefield, painting red streaks of blood whenever her spear or her obsidian dagger passed, it was dazzlingly fast, yet mesmerizing in its beauty. No one had ever seen a warrior like her. Naturally, she was offered the seat of Jarl on her tribe, but she declined, she didnt felt worthy of leading the clan. Her place was in the battlefield, she felt a connection to that place. It was a holy place. Somewhere were kings and slaves were equals, the true location where one could show how much he worth. His bravery, his valor and his honour.
When she turned 20 though, the clan began changing... The previous Jarl had died, and his son wasn't meant to rule. He didn't respected the gods or the holiness of the battlefield. The unspoken laws of war, the ones who every single warrior who had even an ounce of honor was bound to follow, even those he broke when he cowardly murdered the enemy chief after inviting him to a dinner, in a blatant lie to sign a truce.
No good could come of that. Disrespecting the ancient traditions wasn't something that the gods would be happy to see.
Nanna and her most trusted soldiers went to the Jarl to declare their secession from the clan, but the corrupt Jarl wouldn't let them, and in a coward move, he gave the order to kill Nanna and her trusty warriors. A thousand arrows began to fly on their direction. Hopelessly, Nanna watched as her warriors charged, fearlessly to the certain death, protecting her and falling one after another.
Seeing that affront to the honor and the gods, something snapped inside Nanna... With a roar, she charged her old clan, ahead of her warriors. In a beautiful and deadly dance, her spear danced with a hissing sound, her body followed the dance. A silver streak dancing in the middle of the battle, her spear slew enemies without distinction.
As he saw the Jarl, she ran towards him. Spear in hand, with circular motions she charged. The silver blade cutting the throat of her enemies, her blonde hair sprinkled with blood, her body full of cuts and arrows piercing it, ignoring the pain she kept running, leaving a trail of bodies behind, in her incontrollable rage. As she got near the Jarl, so close she could see the white of his eyes, her spear followed her, piercing his neck. Looking to his eyes, she watched as he hopelessly grasped the spear shaft, his blood flowing through it as he tried to breathe. Twisting the spear with a sound of bones breaking and tearing flesh, she ended his life.
Nanna knelt on the ground, wounded and exhausted. Behind her a trail of dead bodies laid, as her allies looked at her, without words. Without strenght to get up, she dropped her spear, falling on the ground, unconscious.
Slowly approaching her, her warriors made an oath to themselves, they would follow her till the end. The one who never fled from battle, her allies are stronger with her, and her enemies tremble with her mighty roar. A woman who was born to battle. A true Walküre.
After spending a long time recovering, she went to the only place where she could: the clan gathering. There she would meet the Craenak. The other clan that lived not too far from her old clan, and she could formally announce the Wulfing tribe's extinction.
Maybe she could enter their ranks. They were a honorable tribe, unlike what the Wulfing became. Maybe she would start her own tribe...
With her mind full of doubts, she and her warriors began the lengthy journey to the gathering. She didn't knew what she would find there, neither how the other clans would react to the news of the Wulfing's extinction.
As Nanna grew older, she turned into an exemplar skjaldmær. Every battle she participated she brought victory to her clan. Fearless in battle, her eyes pierced her enemies, only her presence was enough to change the battle. The tales of a skjaldmær whose spear never misses her target began to spread in the north clans. With her fame spreading, she got the title of "The Walküre", as a skjaldmær who had the spirit of a true warrior.
Using a very unique style of fighting, she danced through the battlefield, painting red streaks of blood whenever her spear or her obsidian dagger passed, it was dazzlingly fast, yet mesmerizing in its beauty. No one had ever seen a warrior like her. Naturally, she was offered the seat of Jarl on her tribe, but she declined, she didnt felt worthy of leading the clan. Her place was in the battlefield, she felt a connection to that place. It was a holy place. Somewhere were kings and slaves were equals, the true location where one could show how much he worth. His bravery, his valor and his honour.
When she turned 20 though, the clan began changing... The previous Jarl had died, and his son wasn't meant to rule. He didn't respected the gods or the holiness of the battlefield. The unspoken laws of war, the ones who every single warrior who had even an ounce of honor was bound to follow, even those he broke when he cowardly murdered the enemy chief after inviting him to a dinner, in a blatant lie to sign a truce.
No good could come of that. Disrespecting the ancient traditions wasn't something that the gods would be happy to see.
Nanna and her most trusted soldiers went to the Jarl to declare their secession from the clan, but the corrupt Jarl wouldn't let them, and in a coward move, he gave the order to kill Nanna and her trusty warriors. A thousand arrows began to fly on their direction. Hopelessly, Nanna watched as her warriors charged, fearlessly to the certain death, protecting her and falling one after another.
Seeing that affront to the honor and the gods, something snapped inside Nanna... With a roar, she charged her old clan, ahead of her warriors. In a beautiful and deadly dance, her spear danced with a hissing sound, her body followed the dance. A silver streak dancing in the middle of the battle, her spear slew enemies without distinction.
As he saw the Jarl, she ran towards him. Spear in hand, with circular motions she charged. The silver blade cutting the throat of her enemies, her blonde hair sprinkled with blood, her body full of cuts and arrows piercing it, ignoring the pain she kept running, leaving a trail of bodies behind, in her incontrollable rage. As she got near the Jarl, so close she could see the white of his eyes, her spear followed her, piercing his neck. Looking to his eyes, she watched as he hopelessly grasped the spear shaft, his blood flowing through it as he tried to breathe. Twisting the spear with a sound of bones breaking and tearing flesh, she ended his life.
Nanna knelt on the ground, wounded and exhausted. Behind her a trail of dead bodies laid, as her allies looked at her, without words. Without strenght to get up, she dropped her spear, falling on the ground, unconscious.
Slowly approaching her, her warriors made an oath to themselves, they would follow her till the end. The one who never fled from battle, her allies are stronger with her, and her enemies tremble with her mighty roar. A woman who was born to battle. A true Walküre.
After spending a long time recovering, she went to the only place where she could: the clan gathering. There she would meet the Craenak. The other clan that lived not too far from her old clan, and she could formally announce the Wulfing tribe's extinction.
Maybe she could enter their ranks. They were a honorable tribe, unlike what the Wulfing became. Maybe she would start her own tribe...
With her mind full of doubts, she and her warriors began the lengthy journey to the gathering. She didn't knew what she would find there, neither how the other clans would react to the news of the Wulfing's extinction.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ Geirskögul ⥥ Goddess of spears, war and honor. ⥥ Female ⥥ Heterosexual ⍚
"Then light shone from Logafell,
and from that radiance there came bolts of lightning;
wearing helmets at Himingvani [came the valkyries].
Their byrnies were drenched in blood;
and rays shone from their spears.
[...]
Helmeted valkyries came down from the sky
—the noise of spears grew loud—they protected the prince;
then said Sigrun—the wound-giving valkyries flew,
the troll-woman's mount was feasting on the fodder of ravens.
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
Geirskögul stands at over 2,00m. Wearing a silver armor, white wings soar the skies. Beautiful and deadly. Her presence on a battlefield can be a blessing or a curse, as she is known to partake in those battles, to test who is worthy and who is not. Spear in her hand, blood in its blade. A beautiful golden hair can be seen under her helmet, blowing with the wind.
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
+ Appearing on great battles to watch over and decide who is worthy of going to the Valhöll
+ Going to the battle herself, favoring the most honorable ones.
+ Spears and martial arts that utilizes them.
+ Honor both in war and life.
+ Having favorite warriors / clans.
+ If enraged, causes great bloodbaths.
+ Some say that the "battle frenzy" the Úlfhéðnar experience is caused by the goddess taking control of that warrior's body.
+ Going to the battle herself, favoring the most honorable ones.
+ Spears and martial arts that utilizes them.
+ Honor both in war and life.
+ Having favorite warriors / clans.
+ If enraged, causes great bloodbaths.
+ Some say that the "battle frenzy" the Úlfhéðnar experience is caused by the goddess taking control of that warrior's body.
[ ⍚ ] F O R M A T I V E M O M E N T S I N H I S T O R Y
From the second humans were born, there was war. Some say that Geirskögul firstly appeared when humans had their first discussion. Teaching them the right and honorable ways both of war and peace, telling the young human race that the battlefield was a sacred ground and should not be used to dishonorable fights.
As the human race grew both in numbers and in age, Geirskögul kept doing her work.
Battle over battle, Geirskögul was present. Every great battle of history she was there. Be as a goddess watching the battle and taking the worthy souls to the afterlife or possessing a mortal, amidst the bloodshed, with a smile on her face.
She was loved the war with all her heart. It was a place were one could show his true worth, defying even fate itself. On the battlefield, everything was possible and for a long time, it was the only love of her life. But one day, this changed.
A certain warrior captured her heart. His bravery, his honor, he didn't had a reason to go to war. He wasn't there for fame, fortune or power. He simply loved the battlefield as much as she did. She began to fight by his side, always together with him. Every battle he was present, she was there, fighting by his side. Like that, she fell in love with him. A love that needed no words, she knew him solely by sharing the battlefield with him.
She saw that beautiful soul live and die many times. Each death was a glorious one, on the battlefield surrounded with his friends and foes.
Seeing that beautiful relationship between Geirskögul and that soul, a relationship so pure it didn't needed words, the dark gods got envious. If they couldn't have that, no one could. Then they began plotting against Geirskögul.
Disguised as a shieldmaiden, she was again in the battlefield besides her loved one, when a black arrow coming from the sky pierced her heart. She had already died in her mortal disguise before, but that was different, her divine essence was also struck with the arrow.
Losing all her memories, she was reborn as Nanna.
As the human race grew both in numbers and in age, Geirskögul kept doing her work.
Battle over battle, Geirskögul was present. Every great battle of history she was there. Be as a goddess watching the battle and taking the worthy souls to the afterlife or possessing a mortal, amidst the bloodshed, with a smile on her face.
She was loved the war with all her heart. It was a place were one could show his true worth, defying even fate itself. On the battlefield, everything was possible and for a long time, it was the only love of her life. But one day, this changed.
A certain warrior captured her heart. His bravery, his honor, he didn't had a reason to go to war. He wasn't there for fame, fortune or power. He simply loved the battlefield as much as she did. She began to fight by his side, always together with him. Every battle he was present, she was there, fighting by his side. Like that, she fell in love with him. A love that needed no words, she knew him solely by sharing the battlefield with him.
She saw that beautiful soul live and die many times. Each death was a glorious one, on the battlefield surrounded with his friends and foes.
Seeing that beautiful relationship between Geirskögul and that soul, a relationship so pure it didn't needed words, the dark gods got envious. If they couldn't have that, no one could. Then they began plotting against Geirskögul.
Disguised as a shieldmaiden, she was again in the battlefield besides her loved one, when a black arrow coming from the sky pierced her heart. She had already died in her mortal disguise before, but that was different, her divine essence was also struck with the arrow.
Losing all her memories, she was reborn as Nanna.
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
- Presence: Nanna is a fierce warrior, and even with her sweet looks, her presence is very impacting.
- Perfect Warrior: Nanna Is the perfect shieldmaiden. Agile and focused, she is hardly matched on the battlefield
- Spear master: The spear is not only a weapon to Nanna, its almost like an extension of her body. Wielding with extreme mastery, her attacks are true and precise.
- Endurance: The cold mountains and the many battles made her body very resistant and strong, she hardly ever gets tired.
- Flexibility - Her body is very flexible due to her unique fighting style. She can move in ways that untrained people wouldn't be able to.
- Natural Compass - Living in the highest mountains, travelling and knowing how to orientate herself is a must. She hardly ever gets lost.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
These will unlock. Only the first ability shall be available in their first life.
Life Force: 15/15 (ignore for now)
Walküre's Embodiment: Weakest Ability
Nanna is no ordinary warrior. She is the embodiment of a Walküre.
Úlfheðinn's Might: The Úlfhéðnar are warriors who threw themselves into battle with all their spirit. Nanna enters in a trance-like fury,able to ignore pain for the duration of the battle.
Spearmaiden's Lunge: Nanna moves with superhuman speed and agility, lunging with (Or without her spear when outside combat) her spear in a devastating strike.
Walküre's Bloodlust: The presence of a Walküre on the battlefield. The presence of a Walküre on the battlefield. Nanna can instill fear into one enemy on the battlefield.
Yggdrasil's Favor: Moderate Ability
The world tree reveals itself for those who are worthy and able to tap on its power.
Yggdrasil's Roots:: The roots of the world tree, where everything began. Nanna is able to tap into the world tree's knowledge. The tree will answer one question, and it will not be the one she wishes, but the one she needs.
Yggdrasil's Dew:: The spirits of those who were denied a honorable death rise once more to have their vengeance, restraining their foes.
Yggdrasil's Blessing:: Borrowing the power of the legendary tree, cure minor to moderate wounds to one person, with more serious injuries requiring more lifeforce to fully heal. If the wound is fully healed, the character feels invigorated for a while.
Summon Gungnir: Strongest Ability
Gungnir, the legendary spear made of the world tree's wood, a weapon able to hurt a living being's essence, ignoring any magic.
Contract with Yggdrasil:: The runes on Gungnir's shaft begin to glow, their magic piercing all defensive barriers. Her spear attacks ignore magic barriers and other types of defensive magics against it.
Gungnir's Precision:: Gungnir is the perfect spear, it can strike any target without failing.
Gungnir's Throw:: Throwing the spear with all one's might, it flies true to its target, piercing everything on its path.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
What is on your person
- An obsidian dagger with a nasty bite.
- Her favourite spear. Made by her, it fits perfectly with her needs and fighting style.
- Bandages
A drinking horn for... well... drinking of course!
>/list>
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R
368bc1 is her colour code
-List of old norse words with their translation:
Skjaldmær (Shieldmaiden, the women who chose to fight.)
Walküre (Valkyrie)
Valhöll (Valhalla)
Úlfhéðnar (Berserkers, the warriors from the old norse. They charged the battlefield without armor, in an unstoppable fury
Úlfheðinn (Singular for Berserkers)
Walküre (Valkyrie)
Valhöll (Valhalla)
Úlfhéðnar (Berserkers, the warriors from the old norse. They charged the battlefield without armor, in an unstoppable fury
Úlfheðinn (Singular for Berserkers)
-Geirskögul's realm is Asgard. You know the drill... Gods' city, very big city. She often hangs on Valhöll (Valhalla. Enormous hall in asgard where the spirit of those who fell in battle eat, drink and fight for their eternity, waiting for the Ragnarök.
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: REQUIRED Of course!
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
O V E R V I E W :
⍚ Love:
⍚ Crush:
⍚ Friend:
⍚ Enemy:
⍚ Aquaintance:
⍚ Crush:
⍚ Friend:
⍚ Enemy:
⍚ Aquaintance:
Alexis:
Kenzie:
Numas Inora:
Eilidh Ua Briain:
Bahji:
Raydon:
Stalana:
Khyrian Faurus:
Ophelia:
Fyldren:
Feir:
Kenzie Moraitis:
Persephone:
Kenzie:
Numas Inora:
Eilidh Ua Briain:
Bahji:
Raydon:
Stalana:
Khyrian Faurus:
Ophelia:
Fyldren:
Feir:
Kenzie Moraitis:
Persephone:
N A R C I S S A
"Character Quote."
Friends:
Friends:
Relationship Description
V A L E R I E
"Character Quote."
Friends:
Friends:
Relationship Description
F L O R A N C E S T A N Z
"Character Quote."
Friends:
Friends:
Relationship Description
X E N A
"Character Quote."
Friends:
Friends:
Relationship Description
F L O R A N C E S T A N Z
"Character Quote."
Friends:
Friends:
Relationship Description
V A D I K
"Character Quote."
Friends
Friends
Relationship Description
É C L A I R
"Character Quote."
Friends:
Friends:
Relationship Description
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