Aeon Voidblade: A powerful sword stolen from a fallen Voidspawn. It is able to cut through all but the toughest defenses, and only Holy weapons can stop it. Steel, concrete, marble, magic, all fall to the strength of this vicious blade.
Armor of the Ancients: A unique set of hi-tech powered armor once worn by an ancient soldier. Its durability, strength enhancement, sensor systems, and light weight make it a formidable weapon, and it is rumored to possess self-modification abilities.
Master Swordsman: Fenix is currently unrivalled in the art of swordfighting. He can make a half-dozen powerful strikes in the span of a second, and his strength is second to none among humans.
Athleticism: Fenix can run all day without tiring. He can leap higher than men are tall. He can parkour his way over any obstacle with uncanny ease.
Desired Class: Dark Paladin
Character Flaws: Fenix has devoted himself single-mindedly to keeping the princess imprisoned in the grip of the dragon, and he will fight tooth and nail to keep her that way. Unfortunately, he is incapable of communicating his rationale to anyone else, which means not only will his enemies multiply like sand on the seashore, but he will not be able to speak his way out of any resultant sticky situations. Without any allies, his life expectancy is decidedly limited.
Name: Ravadon of Xyllodan (Rav, Don, Ravaladon of Meramune, Ravaladon of Aven.) Image: How you got here: By boat.
Background:
The ballad of the first leaf. Ravadon was born, as youngest of 3, into a wealthy family, “Sroon Aven, Safeffe Aven, Ravadon Aven.” The city of AvenHault was even named after their family. However, when his birth was taking place, the town was under a heat wave. His mother barely had the power to allow for his birth. Being stuck halfway, the doctors decided to cut him out of his mother. The dagger that pierced her, hit the baby in his eye-lid. And surprisingly enough, the baby dropped out the natural way. The father had caught Ravadon. And of course, he was a man and did what men do in this culture when they see a small smirk of blood. They whipe it off, firmly. Which is how he got his name. It then also means “The emperor comes, the blooded beggar leaves.” Ravadon, already marked for life from before being born, would be holding grudges against his family. Though they were important as landlords of the city, providing both the wealthy and the poor with homes, they were not the uttermost wealthy living in town. This was not given knowledge to the general public.
The ballad of branches. Mallock Aven, his father, provided him with all his siblings no longer required. Be it a set of cooking pots, princess gowns or an expired horse. Needless to say, he had access to all he desired. Parental love, great compassion for things handed down to him and, of course, the cleaning and scrubbing tools he needed to take care of his personal beauty. This made him look more than decent enough to marry any woman he’d so desire. Even the kings daughter, Melanoi was not out of his reach. But he missed something, something that couldn’t be rewarded by it being given to him. He had a desire for his own glory, possessions and earnings denied to him. His urge became nearly an obsession as it was denied to him so fiercely. “Oh, my boy, why would you go and risk your life working or fighting, when you can freely get your siblings bard to write tales about you?” ‘My boy’. Oh, how he disliked those words beyond compare. It was his mother’s way of telling him he wouldn’t be able to do it, though she told him in that same conversation that he could do anything he wanted. His mother taught him many things, though she knew not that she taught him to twist words and drive through his will, even unto others. At the age of 12, this young boy had been a happy, hunger-free scrap-user.
The ballad of fall. 13. The year everything changed. Ravadon rebelled against his parents and their protective behavior. Ravadon would go and get himself in all sorts of trouble. The time he set ablaze a corrupt guards house was the cherry on the cake for him and the droplet that breaks the bucket for his parents. Not only would they beat him, disown him and get him thrown in jail, they planned on doing it did it publicly. A wealthy patron of the circus heard(by spying of course, the siblings bards were well undercover) about this young ambitious risk-taker. Not hesitating, he told the family he could take the boy on an adventure with the circus. It would take them past mages and monsters, though not actually being in harms way. In return, he would drop (on their very table as they stood there looking at it) more gold(in special wealth-people coins) than their family had ever earned combined and multiplied. The little rebel caught notion of what was discussed in the room next door. He had, in fact, spend time learning things from bards rather than instructing them. As soon as the table was filled, Ravadon learned the way greed was a motive his parents upheld. He decided to not deny himself such pleasure..
The ballad of promise.
Having taken part of the money his parents were given, the young boy, a teenager now, was sent off on a journey that would change his life. In more ways sorrow than the little hero would know. Being saved public embarrassment, he proceeded to be more lenient towards his new caretakers. They let him do all the things he wanted all by himself. He wanted to start a fire, he could gather the rocks, the wood and figure out a way to make it spark. He wanted to sleep late in a tavern, the circus left him behind. Life was well for the young man as he sought out a person to be his master at arms. After all, if he was going to make a name for himself, he would do it by having monsters slain by his own hand. It didn’t take long for him to realize there was only one person that could tell him, who of all the capable people could be his trainer, the old blind sage that owned the fate-telling section of the circus. He entered the room. Cards would represent his future.
Ballad of Cards The first card was that of the warrior. The second was a map, travel along a road. The third was the card of ballads, song and praise. The fourth was a card of powerful magical conflict. The fifth displayed a serpent, more specifically, a wyvern. The sixth was a ‘lady death’ card. The last was a family tree, the symbol for birth and life. The old man told him.. ‘Sonny, you are destined for something great. Never let anyone tell you you’re not worth what you work for. These cards will fade.. as does time… This is the last time I will read cards. There’s no more to see.. Keep the cards. Let them remind you and keep you from fear. The promise remains.. and until fulfilled, you shall not die.” The winter would follow would caused bandits and marauders to attack caravans and travelers. The boy was going home. He had been traveling for a year now. The circus came back to the town they left during its 14th year of existence.
The ballad of Ice.
A warrior card, surely it would be him! He said to himself as he rolled into town with the circus. He could completely picture it. The trumpet sounds as he arrived, becoming a master swordsman. Battle-noises and the ecstatic screams of the women and children all loving him and his glory. The towns bells being rang. Fire, Fire! Fight, Fight! All chanting as he stepped forward to defeat his enemies. Bar the doors! Hide the women and children! They totally wanted to capture him and a glimpse to bask in his glory. Protecting their women and children from his good looks, afraid to lose them. The Hunara bandits are attacking! The hunara.. wait what?
It was not long before the town was overrun. Big and mighty basilisks broke through the walls of the city. The guards were either dead or about to be. The horses were captured, the bears released. One of the bandits picked up the boy from the wagon. Ha! I found one for the stake! Ravadon couldn’t resist the grip from the bandits firm armored grasp. He was carried and thrown unto before the leader of the Hunara, Cho Samoth. “Tell me, why should you be left alive?” Ravadon spilled on how he would be a warrior. Cho laughed at the little boy. Threw a 2-handed great-sword at his feet and told him to pick it up. The boy tried as best he could. Lifting the handle unto one of his shoulders, Cho tested him. “Tell me, why do I want a warrior when I have so many?“ Barely able to hold himself up, Ravadon answered him. “Because I’m the face you need to keep your gold and your people. I can read, I can write. I can provide you into the house of might!” He thought of his greedy parents and how he’d always forget the key in a pot nearby the entrance. “Go on!” Cho commanded. Sending 2 guards with the boy. And surely, he came back with every last penny paid for his release unto the circus. His family now brought before Cho. Cho asked the boy a final question: “What is more.. a son or a coin?” The family assumed they were home free and started hugging already. The real shock came when Ravadon’s answer came: “A coin.” The Hunara bandits razed the village. With the gold payed for him, the entire kingdom would follow soon. Cho ordered one of his recruiters to take care of the boy. To pay him a single coin and murder everyone before him because they deemed him not capable of killing anyone with his weak arms. The warrior card in his hand faded. The old man that had given him the cards had a request. To bleed over the coin as he died. The old man, by chanting a few spells enchanted the coin to supply an endless amount of blood at dripping speeds. The boy was now traumatized even worse. Every person he ever knew kneeled before him and died. The years that followed he would travel many miles. And until he was powerful enough to replace and bring justified death unto Cho, he would be one of them.. A bandit with Stockholm Syndrome. He was kept in a cage the first 3 months. He went from fighting chickens to fighting boars and even cows. This boy was brought up to be strong. He earned 1 coin every fight he won. After that time, the latest of captains in the Hunara ranks got assigned to train the boy. He taught him backstabbing, sword fighting and which types of species he could expect to encounter in the journey. It did not help him a lot that before then he was helpless when he was also sexually abused by this very person for 3 months long.
Ballad of Mead.
But the training persevered… In the cities they heisted, bombarded and plundered, Ravadon was the one sneaking around telling the hidden children to remain hidden. Bringing out weak and feeble old men that wanted to die fighting if he absolutely had to. He proceeded to be a man with very little patience. And with a child offering him a coin he was reminded why he was that way. You cannot get praise without people to praise you… it started gaining on him. His morals were now so backwards from what they were. He clenched the coin and put it in his blooded coin bag. It was time… In the highway tavern he gathered the coins he had and threw a party. Cho was amused by his new protégé. “First he works for coins, now he’d spend them on the person who paid him.” The party was a success.. or rather.. reason to excess. Drunk. And that’s exactly what he needed. To get them all nice and slow. While sniffing through Cho’s stuff he remembered what they always said about him. “A wench without a future.”… Would he really crave the praise from thugs? No.. that just isn’t right. Besides.. everyone laughed at him anyways.. The childs coin was burning on his moral conscience. Had he really forgotten who he was… No… the blood in his bag was proof of who he was. He might have had a promise, but it was his moment to make it happen. He found Cho’s private journal. In full amazement, he found out everything about the Hunara. Their safewords, their treasury.. their purchase history… everything. Though his normal memory was superb. Everything in song he would know forever. He would remember, no matter how bad the rhythm…
And humming to himself as he went towards the tavern, he considered his options… being a lousy bandit for the rest of his life or try to get word out somehow and end this madness. He’d need a real distraction.. people wanting him to go do something else… He might know a messenger, but it would take too long to reach him on foot without someone noticing. If he could even remember what to say…
As he approached the tavern, he knew heard singing in different tones and it made him almost forget his song. He needed to write it down or have them sing it. He wouldn’t get away from these people, neither have a shot at that journal again for.. too long. The journal’s locations would have all been changed by then. But how? Who was going to listen to him? Even if he had their attention, He couldn’t learn these men to read. They were too uncultured.. they wouldn’t know ‘fine wine’ from ‘toxic poison’ until they drank it. He couldn’t hope to teach them the song by letting them read it … By singing, though..
It struck him. Irony! A joke!
He knew he could let them sing along if they were drunk. He knew he could dance and keep anyone serious from shutting him down. He knew how to get to Cho, he knew the locations of all the Hunara hideouts..
He just needed something to make a noise.. or a.. dynamic entry! Taking his options into consideration, he would have to do it tonight. The full moon was upon him. He crawled up the tavern side, took out one of the swords he’d received over the many years and cut a hole into the roof. He left the lid on, but he would have to remember it’s spot in pitch darkness..
He came in ignoring everyone and everything. As did most of the people there. The central fire which lit the room, he swiftly threw a cloak over. The room was suddenly in an angry uproar. A swooping dagger sounded. Moonlight came unto a table. A table with one person standing on it. The room turned to see Ravadon shout “Cho is fat, cho is wet!” As he scooped a drinking horn from the table and bit of its end to use it. The room was needle drop dead silent. A few blades left their sheath. As he started to produce a tune on the horn and throbbing his foot against the floor, the people started slapping and clapping along on the table. “Cho is fat, cho is wet” The other musicians started playing along, the people who now were certain of what the young boy said, started laughing and dancing. As he took a small torch and threw it back on the central fireplace, he could leave the spotlight. The song Was loud through the tavern. He blew his horn mighty and started to sing the second part. “Rav is way better, he is from Meramune!” Some people now got slightly offended and started coming after him. He started running and dancing his way through the room. It may have been the chaos, the spotlight entry, the very many liters of ale, just plane luck.. but all of his moves were copied. The dancing prevented him from getting caught. He jumped from table to table, avoiding the angry crowd. Ant there was laughter when they tripped, there was joy when he kicked mugs at them. The place became alive and every note he’d add to the song the people would savor for hours on end. Eventually Cho himself stood up. The atmosphere completely made a 180.”Enough. I’ve heard enough. “ He stook out his arm. The smile on Ravadons face turned to a surprised and serious one. Depending on what followed he might get slaughtered by all of the tenor and the bass “You! You are our new bard! Someone get him some paper! And take it from the top. This will be our anthem song for the ages!“ He rose his hand and landed back on his seat. “A toast to the hero of the East!” The entire room toasted along. “To Ravadon of Meramune!” Laughter broke out and the singing started all over again. Paper, song.. He could send himself a letter! Giving the unreadable letter to his contact, he would sneak into the next city “exploring.” But in reality warning the authorities and getting back at cho for what he took from him.
The ballad of Roses. The morning came. The courier had done his part. As planned he went in and scouted the city streets, arriving openly for the king. As the king was highly confused by the letter that he received only earlier that day. When He sang a song about himself, Ravadon of Meramune, he remembered every last word of the journal. The king was shocked to hear he was willing to trade his entire band of bandits in for a single coin. The king brought a choir. As Ravadon directed the choir, he presented the information to the general and the scribes. Hence forth he became known as Ravadon of Meramune. And (ironically enough) the capital city of Meramune rewarded him with a home, access to inform the army while they were at war with the Hunara and even a family. He was renowned throughout the city. He was given a place on the battlefield. Little did he know, his journey card had become faded. As he was in the mages tower where they thought him to enchant and evoke, he undertook travel to various caves and often. He was always the first to get the treasury of the Hunara. He’d ensure to take the very best piece of equipment before telling the king of what he found. Logically, the king would tax him over what he found. Leaving him with a green cape(dark on the inside with cowl, without face mask), Half armored in a shoulder pauldron with breast-piece both metallic in color, various swords. But most important of which Excelsis Deo. A weapon that could be infused with enchantments without ever running out or forgetting which it has had before. Gloves of Red icesteel, armguards of red icesteel were his reward for helping these old few wizards and enchanters.
Reinforced fur boots(fur shin-guards, metallic boots), he created himself.
Besides the ballads and the praise in every tavern, a transparent belt with metal-wooden buckle of brute force was his reward from the king.
A short and finely woven white scarf around his neck, hid away the amulet of a blooded coin.
A sky-blue tunic that was torn on the upper part of his left sleeve, a small red kilt revealing the muscled shape of his thighs made up the rest of his own purchased clothes.
Yes, they did know how to spell fashion, sadly.. He protected the kingdom for 5 years. In that time he’d not only won the hearts of the people, but also of the king.
And the king would gift him his daughter and a kingdom with it. Ravadon would have accepted.. but living with his wife becoming a concubine, there would be very little problems. The only true problem that would arise was that the king had 2 daughters. Soon Ravadon would know to either demand both or to reject an offer. Both of these women looked gorgeous. Both were proficient in the use of magic. But one had the character of a serpent, the other of a little girl. As their ages did differ a subtle 9 years. His natural inclination was to choose the older, the serpent. But after seeing how she would use transmutation and evocation to try and actually kill her sister, no money involved or anything, he couldn’t help but feel disgusted.
Ravadon would now build himself up to choose one of the 2 ladies to be his lawful wife. He entered the chamber where he’d make the decision only to find the two ladies throwing around spells at each other. As fire and goo flew through the room, he dived in to protect the young from the serpent. The older sister was even more outraged that he wouldn’t choose her over “that little tree huger”. She rampaged. She transmutated herself to be a dragon. More specifically, a wyvern. The wyvern breathed fire through the chambers and through the halls of the city. It was rampaging, destroying buildings, families and ruining life everywhere.
By an ancient divination spell, the young daughter (who had magical resistance and was still bleeding) stabilized the one she loved. Ravadon was now unconscious. As she looked at the hopelessness of the situation, she could do no other… She, Xyllodan, would take Excelsis Deo and fell the beast. As she grew wings of eagles, she flew up high, mightily high. She’d smitten the foul beast with a ray of lightning. The creature was now de-winged. It tried to get away as best she could, but she was no match for the weapons strikes. As her sister laid bleeding out, she would turn her into a dead tree.. never to harm anyone again. Upon flying back to her lover she realized he’d been awakened by the clashing of the sword and the skull of the creature. The girl now granted him the sword. As He took it, an idea flashed into his mind. A helmet. He might have been a mighty slayer of creatures.. but a helmet would be so much safer! He proceeded to marry Xyllodan. For he would be renamed again for slaying the beast. The young sister didn’t have great curves, but people recognized the blade used to slay the beast. The 2 made for a lovely couple. He would act big and dance a lot, she would be doing the actual political work. To his surprise the card was still glaring. Maybe this was something for later.. He made a helmet from the wood of a magical tree in the middle of the capital city. He would know it to be mere wood, but it could do great for protecting him. As time moved forward, the problems started. First it was conflict over who should get credit for stopping the wyvern, next there was the discussion of who should own the sword, the fight over the wooden helmet not being safe enough.. with every victory and successful protection of the city another fight would be waged in their marriage. Ultimately, he would be away for many days before he got back. In that time, he never noticed how his helmet had a strange red eye growing on its side. Because of him being away so often, his council ordered him to share his knowledge of his scripts, ballads with his wife. The woman would do the same in return. The rest of the time passed on. And again more and more fighting came over time. There was no helping it. But this time, yes, this time she could read his encrypted writing. The very writing he used as a journal the night of the sisters fight. And in it, there was the, to her accursed, claim that he would not choose her as a first pick. And this was that moment… the card burned. The magical conflict was over. She confronted him about his texts, he assumed this would pass. He tried to comfort her by saying she had won a great prize. In her return she’d slap him across the face. He would get angry and try to leave. She would scream out “open fire” as she transmuted, all that was left of the Hunara would jump from the shades. Realizing her betrayal, he lost his cool.. he lost all of his promising futures.. as he drew his sword the serpent card burned halfway through. Yet another wyvern was slain at the hands of a wielder of Excelsis Deo. He took the skin and got it wrapped around his helmet. A real dragon helmet. What more than appeal would a man need? The hero paraded the streets… but the people knew.. the people all knew.. Their kingdom now under rule of a man who had only eye for himself. They denied him the crown. They wouldn’t mind him joining a protectors or mercenary guild, but a lord he wouldn’t be while they lived. His price? But a single coin. He spend the rest of his days hunting all threats that weren’t a serpent, wyvern or a dragon. He knew what it would mean if he did.. the next card would not be in his favor… Having lost the will to live due to his ballads no longer being sung, he prepared himself to be old. The nation was re-using clockworks and he had no intention of giving up self-earned glory. He dropped out of society and started to travel by his last name… and that last name would come back to haunt him. He sought out dragons, wyverns, truly any beast of magical or powerful origin he hunted. Acquiring ropes, languages and more paper for him to write ballads on. It had been so very long. He sought out a spirit to grant him power beyond the promise of the card he held in his hand. He wanted it to make him a legend. A hero beyond compare. She said she had the answer for both cards and she’d fulfill his every dream for glory and power. She imbued(enchantment) his helmet with the power he desired. It would take the spirit of a beast first, though. Any beast he’d take would do, but she had a special one for him.
He sought out the cave she'd mentioned. As the cards burned in his hand, he walked in through a crack in the rocks. After a brief moment of flailing his bodyparts in any direction, he plunged face first into sandy floor of the human city Southhaven.
Powers, Abilities, & Equips:
Handy: Both left-handed and righthanded for sword fighting or ranged attacks. Excelsis Deo: A blade that sings the songs of Ravadon and makes the songs words come to life for a second. (i.e. the word tree makes a frame of wood surround the sword.) An appealing peeling of a peel peers apparently feel: Oddly sexy when eating fruit or vegetables.
Desired Class: Bard / fighter. Character Flaws: Overconfident in his own abilities. Obscured vision in his left eye. Bad temper when sleepy. Horrible handwriting. Holds bad grudges. Self-justification. Extreme vanity. Proud snob. Greedy. lusty. Famous Quotes: "Vegetables before dinner!"
How you got here: Isabella has lived in Dragan her whole life. She grew up here ever since she was born and knows every crevice of the small town she lives in by heart. She never believes she could be anywhere else and if she is away for a long time she misses the warmth of fireplaces by her feet and her favorite velvet cushion she has on the couch. No place but home, she always says.
Background: Isabella carries royal blood and is distantly related to the Princess of Dragan. She even remembers playing with her when she was little. However, ever since she was a child her parents were always away on a foreign trip and therefore, she was raised by stablehands and petite handmaidens, leading to her slightly boyish personality, mixed with gentle carefulness and a sense of elegance not many can impersonate.
Powers, Abilities, & Equips:
- Earth Sword The Earth Sword was gifted to Isabella by her father. If the sword strikes dirt the ground splits, . The Earth Sword is sworn allegiance to Isabella and so, therefore, it does not respond to any other owner
Desired Class: Knight
Character Flaws: Isabella can seem very cold hearted at times, making most people want to avoid her. Whenever she faces something that she can not get over she gets stubborn and angry with herself. In simpler words she is scared of failure and everything associated with it. She’s always managed to get through almost everything her life, therefore any problem is not a hard problem, right?
Famous Quotes: Be a girl with a mind, a woman with attitude and a lady with class
Name: Edward Dragan Gender & Race: male human How you got here: Hails from a mysterious country called Hamer'Ca. Background: Alexander Dragan's father was Edward Dragan, the "Chosen King." Edward was larger than life, a living legend among his people. It was he who united the warring human tribes under one banner, and he never let anyone forget it. His courage in battle was matched only by his bravado, and it won him as many enemies as it did allies. Aside from his Unification War, he was also known for bringing great technological strides to humanity.
What is less-known is that the king was one of the readers of the Letter. He recognized, as the Marked Hero once did, that preventing another Void invasion was impossible in the country's current state. Thus, he instituted the Imperial Academy to train future generations in science and engineering and to research new technologies. He created the battlemage legions specifically for fighting the Void, and though they never got to be used for that purpose, they were still leagues stronger than any other fighting force in the world at the time, and were instrumental to his victory in the secret War of the Letter.
How he died remains a mystery. There is a lifelike stone statue of him at Midhaven Castle that once had a plaque descrbing his death, but historians agree the description is a complete fabrication, and the plaque has since been removed.
Powers, Abilities, & Equips:
Eye of the Future: Edward claimed to have seen the future. Whether or not that was true, he had an incredible knack for predicting, and even spurring, new inventions. He had even occasionally helped researchers and engineers with their creations.
Magicless Mage: Despite having no ability to cast any kind of magic, he made a point of becoming one of the most knowledgeable scholars in the art. He single-handedly trained the first human battlemage legions, and his early pioneering work in magecraft lent him the posthumous title of Father of Human Magic.
Swordsman: The former king was a master swordfighter. It was the first serious training he took when he arrived on the continent, and he became so proficient in it that he could duel with the masters and hold his own.
Wyvern Riding: One of the king's favorite hobbies was riding wyverns. He wasn't particularly good at it, but everyone complimented him just the same. His rationale for continuing with it was, "It makes me look cool." He was lucky to have bonded with a wyvern who was good at flying with him.
Desired Class: Lord Character Flaws: The king had a sort of "hero complex," in which he thought the fate of the kingdom depended on him from the moment he arrived. Historians agree that it cost him several important battles, and possibly his life. The Unification War is thought to have lasted two years longer because of his chronic overconfidence. Famous Quotes: "Why do you linger? This is only the first step in your Heroic Journey; they exist to be defeated. We will fight, we will live, and we will win. Come! Destiny awaits!" ~his speech to the army before his famous victory against the Warlords of Angor.
Name: Kiera Akello Image: Gender: Female Race: Elf How you got here: Kiera was born in Aetherion and grew up in the faraway land. Background: Kiera was always told by everyone she had amazing healing powers. Her mother and father were good clerics, so this made sense to everyone. She always enjoyed healing things, because she always felt at peace when she did it. Well, she would heal people if they complimented her. She was incredibly vain and would refuse to heal you unless if you said she was beautiful. Either that or whip up a sob story out of nowhere. If she felt bad for you enough, she will end up doing whatever you wanted her to do. Even though she was a good healer, she created a bad name for herself in her hometown because she wouldn't heal anybody who had done something bad to her one time or another, but even though she is unreliable she knows a lot about herbs and can heal broken limbs. When Kiera wanted to get out of the village and explore the world, she took this opportunity and went to King of Dragan and decided to help heal people while experiencing the world for the first time. Powers, Abilities, & Equips: Power: Advanced Healing Abilities: Can use daggers Equips: Healing staff, poison, burn etc. antidotes, an iron dagger, and a cape to keep herself warm. Desired Class: Cleric Character Flaws: Gullible, know to be absent-minded at times, naive. Known to be spiteful at times. She is very vain and selfish. Famous Quotes: "I don't understand why people don't like being clerics. You basically decide whether you companions live or die!"
Name: The Storyteller Image Gender: Male Race: Appears Human. How You Got Here: Unknown Background: For as long as history can remember, a mysterious figure has walked the land, bearing witness to all it's goings on be they great or small and occasionally stepping in to make certain adjustments to the course history. Though he has the appearance of an ordinary man, few believe that is what he truly is, for no man can live as long as he has or return to life after being killed for that matter. Whenever someone asks the man himself what he is, he'll simply deflect the question in a way that allows him to segue into telling 1 of his many stories, which comes as a surprise to few considering the fact that this man of mystery calls himself The Storyteller. Powers, Abilities, & Equipment:
Resurrective Immortality: Throughout history, The Storyteller has been killed many times and in many ways. Each time he has died though, he's always returned from the grave within anywhere from a week to a decade.
Great Magical Might: The Storyteller has exhibited mastery over all forms of magic and knows almost every spell than can be cast by a mortal.
Centuries of Combat Experience: Having had countless eons of practice, The Storyteller is unsurprisingly quite handy with a sword.
Lore Master: Having been alive for longer than history can recall, The Storyteller knows almost everything about the world's history and its prominent figures.
History's Best Friend: The Storyteller's tendency to get on 1st name terms with as many prominent historical figures as he can means that he is friends with many people who are more than capable of shaking the world to its foundations if they willed it.
Walking Reliquary: Along with collecting stories, The Storyteller also collects magical artifacts. Unless they have a significant story behind them, magical items that come into The Storyteller's possession are never seen again. However, those that are seen again are usually very useful to have around.
Desired Class: Battle Mage Character Flaws:
Crippling Curiosity: The Storyteller is quite often ruled by his desire to find and record new stories and new variations of old stories. Depending on the situation, this can get him into a lot of trouble.
Bursting With Stories: Much like how food is meant to be eaten and water is meant to be drunk, stories are meant to be told. And with all the stories he knows, The Storyteller can rarely resist telling a story whenever the opportunity presents itself.
Slow to Act: The Storyteller only ever steps in if it is necessary for him to do so, and even then he only uses just enough power to match his foes. Most of the time he simply blends into the background, observes the action, and records anything that would make for a good story in his book. He never explains why he only intervenes in the affairs of the world when no one else can, but the popular theory is because some unknown obstacle allows him to help only in the most dire situations.
Famous Quote: "Those who forget the stories are doomed to repeat their mistakes"
Some parts of the following story are inaccurate. Do not take this information as absolutely true unless confirmed by eyewitness testimony.
Once upon a time, there was a doctor. He [sic] was the best doctor science could produce; thousands of lives were saved by his hand. Men and women alike crowed about his bedside manner, his charming good looks, and his spotless record. His peers respected his abilities and hailed him as the greatest medical mind of their age. He came to the world full of hope that he could help millions more by establishing his skill and techniques for generations to come.
Then the Voids came, and he was drafted into the war as a medic. As always, he saved every soul [sic] he could. And, if he could reach them, he could always save them, without fail. He became renowned as a miracle-maker, a god among men who could give death the finger and bring mortals back from the brink.
But as the war grew worse, the casualties piled up, and people started to die simply because he couldn't get there in time. He prayed for help, and got an answer: the Immortal Council sent Gwen Valentine, their mightiest Light Mage and the greatest weapon the humans had against the Void. With her help, the humans were able to rally their forces and organize a swift retreat. They'd all come to rely entirely on her powers for their survival, and the doctor swore to keep her alive until everyone could be rescued.
The Voids were not idle. Oh no, they were cunning creatures, and their dark minds hatched a plan to condemn mankind to the dust and take their intolerable Light Mage with them. Their plan worked, and the doctor could only look on in horror as they sank their dark tendrils into the Immortal's pristine flesh and ripped her to shreds. The doctor raced to her side and fought to save her - he knew from experience that he only had seven seconds to stop a mortal injury from taking a life. Seven seconds were all that stood between glorious salvation and miserable death for the entire human race on the planet. The fate of the world rested on his shoulders.
The Immortal took her last breath in his arms.
The whole world collapsed around him. Countless millions died in the following slaughter. Men, women, and children were all torn to bloody ribbons beneath the Void hordes.
And the doctor could only watch.
Hundreds of years after, when the sons and daughters of men began to repopulate the world, they started to tell the tale of the doctor. The story became twisted, and in time, it turned into the legend of the healer who betrayed humanity, a wretched man who murdered humanity's only hope for his own selfish designs. He became a bedtime story, a Grim Reaper who would take your soul if you weren't watchful.
Unbenownst to any, the doctor still lived. And still he could only reap the consequences of his failure. In an effort to atone, he drove himself into the study of magical healing, seeking for the holy grail of Resurrection that could undo his sins and restore all that was lost. He did, in fact, discover a method of resurrection, but it made a mockery of him: it could only restore souls that were within seven seconds of departure.
The same seven seconds that failed him hundreds of years ago.
To this day, he continues his studies, hoping against hope to find his holy grail.
Name: Herodotus Sykes, Engineer Image: Gender & Race: (Ancient) Human Male How you got here: Herodotus arrived when the first men descended from the sky. Charged by the so called "colonial" authorities with overseeing the maintenance and "terraforming" of the newfound planet, something went really wrong with the navigation controls of his vessel and was lost to the world. Background: Aeons ago, Herodotus spent his youth growing and learning under a different sky and sun. A son of an otherwise unremarkable couple, he always had a fascination to take flight and conquer the stars, and his dream was realized when he enlisted in one of such colonial attempts. The journey was long and uneventful, but Herodotus persevered and prepared himself for the titanic task of bringing a new planet up to shape so that humans could inhabit it.
However, the day of the landing, a severe malfunction on his descent pod veered his trajectory far off, and he crash landed into the northern wastes in a crevice. The subsequent landslide of rocks and ice emtombed him, and he was considered dead. He, however, survived, by clinging to the pod's basic healing support systems and cold sleep functions. The world changed around him. The Void invaded. Kingdoms rose and fall, and the ancient systems he was supposed to repair were forgotten and poorly maintained, all while he slept as his wounds healed. A massive earthquake in recent times, a fortitous event, freed him from his ice prison. The sight what awaited him was appalled, and he nearly succumbed to despair after sighting orcs for the first time, and thinking that had been the fate of all mankind. But he persevered. He traded his futuristic equipment, useful but rather depleted with the tools of hunter-gatherers, and he made a beeline towards civilization. The Void, the Guardians... the recent events. So many situations to repair and fix, and so little time.
Powers, Abilities, & Equips:
Mark of the Overseer: An engraved three point star tatoo in his flesh, this actually serves as a method of recognition and master key for many of the ancient systems that might still be scattered about. It also allows to learn and process much more quickly new languages and information.
Ancient Engineer: Sykes knows the ins and out of the ancient technology. At the proper place at the right moment, this can bear exceptional fruit. However, due to the vast amount of knowledge required to do at once, he needs a programmed chip to store the blueprints of most things. Since his ordeal, this has been restricted to self-taught devices, which nevertheless include high-grade medieval weaponry and tech.
Hunting: Sykes has a good aim, and he is rather fit. He can use a bow with no small amount of skill (although a gun would be much better) and he can also fight acceptably with the knife. He is also good at tracking and has notions of stealth.
Omni-tool: Basically, a futuristic multi-tool. It can be used to repair ancient tech. He keeps this device hidden due to its hi-tech appearance. (Requires an ID mark to work). The Omni-tool has also a display which connects with the ancient Sky-Eye network of satellites, which are useful for positioning or getting the topography of a place done. (Although Sykes isn't sure the network still works).
Desired Class: Ranger Character Flaws: Herodotus is jaded and rather cynical, and he is often than more frequently detached from the events of the world at large. He has a tendence to consider non-human races as servant races. He also is under immense emotional strain, and grief might make him much more callous and reckless than he would be otherwise. Famous Quotes: "This was not meant to be."
BackStory: When Grace was young, her parent's were murdered. There was no evidence as to who, or what for that matter, committed the crime. Grace, given the lack of evidence and being the only person in the house during the murders, was almost instantly accused of the murder. Given her young age, her testimony wasn't taken seriously and she was sent to the Church for her soul to be "purified". Her home country (name pending for lore friendly reasons) is a theocracy, meaning the Church governed everything within that particular country.
The next few years of her life was a living hell. The Church was convinced a demon dwelled within her, and due to this deemed multiple rituals to be in order. A few of the more tame ones included having the Church symbol branded onto her back and having multiple exorcisms performed. After they decided she was cured of her possession, they continued to keep her within the church, telling her that the only way she could atone for her sins was to fight for their god. From then on, she was trained to be a paladin.
Years past, and she remained with in the Church. Grace took her duties seriously, to the point of training until she passed for weeks in a row. Her childhood self was gone, replaced now by a mere puppet of the Church. One day, the Church heard upon some news that sparked their interest: the princess of Dragan had been kidnapped! The Church saw this as an opportunity to gain favor in the eyes of Dragan, given that they had gotten into trouble with the neighboring country in the past. They decided Grace would be a worthy candidate to send on a mission to retrieve the princess. They told her that should she succeed, her soul would be considered redeemed and she could leave the Church.
To prepare for this journey, Grace made herself a disguise. A Paladin of a foreign religion, according to the Church, would be highly frowned upon in Dragan. Because of this, Grace dyed her hair and donned commoners clothing, even going so far as to go by the name Ariana. She traveled with a trade caravan to Dragan, which leads us to the present...
Powers, Abilities, Etc. As a paladin, Grace has immense strength and uses a rather large sword in battle. However, due to her fully playing the part of a common citizen, she does not currently have her weapon or armor. For all intents and purposes, she is basically a light mage. She did, however, focus more on the physical training, meaning she cannot read the future etc. She can get a vague idea if someone is lying to her, but can't tell what the exact lie is or why it is a lie. Her paladin training also included healing magic, though she can't reattach limbs and stuff like that. All in all, she is incredibly strong outside of combat, but struggles without her weapon and armor in a true battle.
Desired Class: Paladin
Character Flaws: *Even though Grace was essentially brainwashed into serving the Church, she often doubts her upbringing. Although she is loyal, she often questions those loyalties.
*Grace, combat wise, is incredibly limited due to her disguise as a commoner.
*Grace is extremely self depreciating. When she was growing up within the Church, they frequently told her how worthless she was.
Famous Quotes: * "These are not the droids you are looking for."
* "No, I will not arrest you for your beliefs. I don't agree with them, but I promise your safety." -in regards to a convicted pagan.
* "Temptation is human. . . But so is willpower."
* "Yes my armor is very shiny. No you may not touch it."
Appearance: He has a very boyish appearance to him when he isn't wearing a helmet. His slightly tan face is quite thin, with high cheekbones sitting below sharp amber colored eyes, flaked with gold. His long wavy hair is almond brown and curls slightly at the tips. He is clean shaven, with a small scar below his right eye, from a tale he would always be happy to share. Tiberius is also very tall with a decent athletic build, which gives off a slightly intimidating presence.
Gender & Race: Male Human
How you got here: He doesn't have a clue. One moment he was in a darkened forest all alone. The next he finds himself in a very ruined marketplace, chaos all around.
Background: There isn't much to tell about Tiberius, for the world he was born into is now lost to him. Once a proud Paladin Knight of Fondas, in another Faraway Land, but now just a man in ornate armor. His slate is clean but he does not know it, his powers are new but he does not know them and the new world he now finds himself in is unfamiliar. He will take on a new quest, to find answers and find a way home, or he will die trying.
Powers, Abilities, & Equips:
* New power flows into him, where once he was a normal human he now finds himself more durable and stronger. * His armor is old but at the same time, new. It has been enchanted with Holy Magic, giving extra protection from anything unholy. * Tiberius is also a master swordsmen in his own right, and with his new strength, it only makes him deadlier. * His long sword has also been enchanted with Holy magic.
Desired Class: Paladin Knight
Character Flaws:
* He knows nothing about the new world he finds himself in. * His memory isn't as good as it once was, as such he has a hard time remembering his past memories. * He has been instilled with an intense hatred of anything unholy and demonic. * Will do anything it takes to help the innocent.
