"How long have I been asleep in my own mind. What atrocities have I commited in the name of a god I never believed in. No more. This stolen strength will aid the world, not sunder it!"
Age: 52
GenderMale
Race:Human
Personality - Jeggred, his true name forgotten over years of subjegation, is a vindictive and often cruel man. His time worshipping an entity of darkness has torn apart the sanity of his mind under the weight of servitude. A sanity he has only recently begun to recover.
At his core shines a golden radiance that was his true faith to the lords above. It speaks to him of tolerance and peace, at war with the black of his sins.
The inner conflict between his brainwashing and the faith of his forefathers has created twin personalities. Making him dangerous and often unpredictable.
History - Shadows. Suffering. Screams of the dead and dieing, their bodies mutilated and hung like tapestries from the blackened walls of the keep. They speak of pain commited with his own hands. The memories of hiw cruelty linger even now, still so fresh and vivid. The markings upon their flesh is the unmistakable result of his own handiwork.
They were the sacrifices to darkness needed, required, for his tutelage.
When had they taken him aay from the world of his youth. When tapestries of heroes adorned the walls, weapons for good rested on the hips and in the hands of veterans to the righteous causes. Jeggred cannot answer these questions any longer. Stolen from his home and robbed if his fath he had been beaten and broken at the hands of true evil. Influenced by his own pain to share it with others.
Years of prolonged cruelty ended in an instant. The man, old and frail, had taken once glance at Jeggred armed with his sinister tools and smiled. Spoke of forgiveness, not from his captors. To them. His last breathe spoke of a strange gods name, a word beyond strength that tore into Jeggreds soul like a dagger.
His home. Their gods. His past.
Memories long burned from his mind rose again and brought confusion. Pain. A red haze the likes of which he had never known until pnly darkness remained.
The last memories Jeggred has is waking up upon the freezing mountaintops, in robes stolen from his 'siblings'. Stained with red and back blood.
A golden song echoes in his heart, wordlessly speaking of atonement. Atonement he can never hope to be forgiven for.
Wither - Jeggred tears the energy from the target, sundering their will. Enemies effected become sluggish and dazed.
Rot - A single cut can turn fatal when the twisted magics curse them. Enemies suffer rapid flesh decay for a brief period of time based on pre-existing wounds.
Shackle - Nether bindings made from the dark magic at Jeggreds command wrap around a target, preventing them from moving for a short period of time. Can be channeled for longer duration.
Sunder - All things must end. The enemies cursed with this horrible incantation often erupt in terrible wounds across their naked flesh. The more mana put into this spell the greater the wound is inflicted.
Consume - Siphons the lifeforce of an enemy to regenerate Health and Magic.
@DragonofTheWestAs Zelosse said, it isn't an evil belonging to a singular faction but is rather a cosmic force, something that isn't inherently evil but from our perspective is.
Race: Human Personality Despite the trappings and appearance of, at times, Priesthood, at a casual conversation, Ansgar still comes off like his former bandit days. He tends towards bleak, gallows humor and speaking with sarcasm and disdain for nobility and generally anyone who was born into their station, seeing it as little more than glorified entitlement. He still knows the tricks and tools of the trade from back in his younger years, and has no qualms using them, which has created entertaining moments of a priest picking locks, or lifting something out of another thief's pocket to prove a point. And this suits Ansgar just fine, he much prefers that his peers see him as an uncouth, barely recivilized thug playing at being a pious man, it makes his job easier as far as he is concerned. He would march to war alongside soldiers and guards alike, sheparding them along and fighting as viciously, if not even more so, than they would.
Woe unto any who think that his faith is a sham, because Ansgar is earnest in that his newfound faith saved him from the Executioner's block (and giving his younger sister the satisfaction of outlasting him, and taking his head for that matter). Despite the crass warrior exterior, he is still a priest at heart, and always watching and considering his surroundings. Before, it was looking for ambushes and guards hunting his partners and him, now it was looking to those around him for what they truly were, and why they hid it. He wears his chains, once binding him, now a constant reminder of his past and how he rose above it. And may whomever attempts to mock him for such things be ready for the crude remark they will be getting in return. Though no matter how poorly he got along with someone, he will still give them their last rites and see them buried, commended to whatever gods they follow.
History
Born into the Imperium's middle class, Ansgar and his younger sister by two years, Reinhilde, were the children of an experienced soldier, retired due to his wartime injuries. As the elder child, Ansgar was expected to follow in his father's footsteps while his younger sister would be relegated to supporting or secondary roles, something that she resented greatly from the moment the idea was proposed. The siblings would spend a great deal of time sparring, the sister holding advantage in agility but still failing to beat him out more often than not due to being younger and having trained less than her brother, something she would resent for some time to come. But at the age of 16, Ansgar would volunteer for the Imperium's army, being assigned to a regiment and sent off to war with little ceremony, and within two years he would hear of his sister and her disappearance into the Imperium's army as well, told to keep an eye out for her.
Under the command of a noble with little regard for the lives of the men beneath him, only the results he got from the men before they passed on, he would find himself outliving his peers over and over again, things coming to a head shortly after his tenth year of service, when his request for leave to visit his ailing family was denied. In his rage, repressed and bottled over the long years, he murdered the noble in his fit of rage, the man's upbringing and fancy training no match for a soldier's steady hand honed by the harshest teacher of them all. After he realized what he had done, he quickly fled, only stopping to visit his parents one last time before fleeing into the wilds of Averland, where he would engage in banditry and raiding, using his military training and experience for his own gain.
Being twenty six when this started, Ansgar would spend several years preying on anyone that dared set foot outside the walled cities, contributing to the dangers and hostilities facing the nation through his own selfish greed, and lack of direction to do anything else. Things would not last forever, and despite doing well, he was tracked down by several bounty hunters, accompanied by a rather peculiar looking priest, dressed in mail and wielding a Dane axe as easily as a northern raider might. Backed into a corner, Ansgar would kill off the bounty hunters but find himself disarmed, wounded, and at the mercy of this warrior priest, who made him an offer. Take his second chance, and join the priest's brotherhood of repentant souls, or be taken back to the Imperium and tried for his crimes. The answer was rather obvious, even if he didn't believe in the whole priesthood nonsense.
Ansgar would spend several years studying and meditating, learning the prayers and history of the order of battle priests, not a single one of them were innocent and seeking redemption for their past actions. Despite his initial expectations, he found himself believing in this simple, but earnest faith and it gave him a core of strength he hadn't had since losing faith in the Imperium's army. Once he had found his faith, he was taught how to channel it into a weapon, whether it manifested through his weapon and armor or was launched with bolts of light to reach offenders from afar. With that, he would depart and roam the land, spending nearly thirteen years as one of the wandering warrior priests. He would hunt down criminals, assist hunting parties that targeted beasts that legitimately threatened the well being of the surrounding peoples, and even wander battlefields administering final rites to those that had been overlooked or defiled.
These wanderings and continued attempts at redeeming himself for his past actions gave Ansgar an insight into the world as it was turning into, and it was falling apart. Despite efforts to the contrary, the world was spiralling into ruin and decay, and it was unclear how any one man or woman could ever hope to stop it. This was when word of the a call to arms reached him, through a missive delivered to him from the order's main temple. He was chosen to depart immediately for the Devoured City of Venridge, and offer his services on behalf of the temple. Such an undertaking would not be easy, but things were never easy, far as Ansgar was concerned, so he would depart at once, with a single goal in mind. Reach Venridge, and figure out what needed to be done from there.
Weapons
Two handed Warhammer, it's blessing personally maintained by Ansgar.
Dirk, tucked into a sheath that is firmly secured to his left leg.
Magic
Healing Magic - Fueled by faith and learned to channel through his mentor in his early years as a priest, Ansgar is capable of mending torn flesh and broken bone, as well as purging illness and poison from the afflicted with enough time, meditation, and prayer. Though in a pinch, he is perfectly handy with both splint and bandage, as well as remedies he picked up on during his banditry days, since walking into town and seeking a healer was not really an option for those like him at the time.
Wrath - Unlike priests and healers that maintain oaths of pacifism and peace, Ansgar has learned to channel his faith into a weapon as sharp as any sword, and a shield as sturdy as any wall, if what he said would be believed. When necessary, he can channel his wrath into his combat abilities, war hammer glowing a hot white and, if the situation is desperate enough, emitting a corona of soulfire that would sear any that got too close, friend or foe. The undead are especially susceptible to such a display of power, lesser specimens being turned away at the sight, and often crumbling under a single blow. Of course, he cannot maintain such a state for long, due to how taxing it is on his body, but while he is channeling it, it gives him an edge that he may very well need.
Ruin - A man can be as dangerous as he wants in a melee, but if he cannot reach his enemy, what good does all that skill and talent do them? Though Ansgar is still training himself in these techniques, he can launch bolts of light that blind and burn the flesh of those targeted by the attacks, with the added bonuses against the undead. While that is his only reliable attack at range, if the situation grows dire enough, an earnest prayer and incantation could, God willing, bless him with the means to bring down a column of power to smite a target, though this will leave him drained and unable to call upon any other abilities for some time.
Other His younger sister, Reinhilde Staudinger, remains currently employed as an executioner for the Imperium. Ansgar has not had contact with her for over fifteen years, and has no intentions of rectifying that.
Post Example "Staudinger! Grab your hammer, we've been had!
Ansgar jumped out of his small bed, having been relaxing after the latest raid that had hit some Imperium convoy that had gone too far off the beaten path. It'd been too easy, he'd told them this, but they went for it anyways. Turned out to have a hefty amount of coin, far too much for how underguarded the convoy had been. He had planned to skip out the following day, had his things packed already and everything, but it seemed retribution had arrived before he could skip out on that meeting again. He got out of the crude wooden doorway they had put into the cave entrance in time to see the one who had raised the alarm run through by one of the hunters, and wasted no time bringing the hammer down on the offending hunter's head before he could pull his weapon free of the dead bandit. Wrenching the hammer clear of the dead bounty hunter, he still saw several others already approaching, some man wearing plate with a red collar unrolling a scroll and speaking loudly. "By order of the Imperial Throne, you have been charged with murder of a superior, desertion, robbery, extortion, evasion of apprehension, and other crimes I need not list here. What say you?"
"To hell with you, your charges, and the Imperium, I stand by what I did. Let's get this over with, I want to get some sleep before finding someone else to rob, business has been rather lean lately." Ansgar didn't wait for the bounty hunters to encircle and strike from all sides, instead charging the far left flank of them first, a kid far too young to be in this line of work. He stumbled backwards, shield raised against the impending hammer blow which never came. Instead the blow came across his shins, shattering them and sending him to the ground, and as the other hunters were moving to attack, watched the young blood get his chest caved in. The next had a spear, lunging and landing a shallow cut along his side, passing between an old wound in his mail hauberk, which he hadn't the time or coin to find a blacksmith willing to fix it for him.
Hooking the shaft of the spear with the hammer, he twisted and wrenched the spear sideways and away from the hunter, a swift kick to the groin sending him to the ground, winded and in pain. He kept the last two hunters in front of him, the two trying to attack at once from both sides, sword and mace coming in at the same time. Rather than statically block, Ansgar turned the incoming mace blow aside, guiding it into the sword strike and forcing them both to his left side. Bringing the two handed hammer up from the deflection, he slammed the head of the hammer into the one hunter's gut, causing him to collapse, retching and coughing up blood before the hammer came down on his neck, putting him out of his misery. The spear hunter was getting to his feet, in time to see the swordsman have his shield hooked and jerked forward, pulling him off balance for a pommel strike and follow up blow to the head, putting him down as well. "What, never had a man fight back before? The convoy you used as bait put up more of a fight than this!"
The spear wielding hunter, still unsteady, lunged at the hammer wielding bandit, trying for a better angle on the gap in his armor this time. Problem being, Ansgar was expecting the follow up attempt, deflecting and grasping the shaft of the spear, and headbutted the spearman, breaking his nose and sending him reeling back again. Ansgar thrust the spear into the man's gut, sending him to the ground, and turned to see the armored man who had read the charges produce a two handed axe. Well then, seems the talker meant business. "Not bad for a bandit, a shame you strayed from your destined path as a soldier."
"You tell a man he can't go see his dying father when your regiment isn't going to be sent off for several months while replacements are trained, and see how he reacts." Ansgar charged the armored man, bringing the hammer down for the man's head, only for him to deflect the blow along the haft of the axe, using the axe head to hook and disarm Ansgar of his hammer. Cursing, he took a swing at the balding, smug face of the axe wielder, only to get a knee to the gut and the blunt side of the axe head to the head, stunning him and sending consciousness fleeing for a scant second. When he got his senses back, he felt the cold steel of an axe blade and the stern face of the man wielding it staring at him. "Banditry made you sloppy, but still salvegable. I offer you one chance at redemption, come with me, and my temple master will decide if you are fit for the cloth."
"Fit for the cloth... You're a priest? Hell kind of priest walks around with an axe? It is better than being hung or beheaded, I suppose..." Chuckling, the armored priest stood up, grabbing Ansgar by the collar of his mail hauberk and hauled him to his feet. "The kind that used to be a bandit as well, now come, its a long way to the temple and we'll need to avoid any other bounty hunters. Now, let us see if you can be redeemed" Theme Song:
Race:Oni Personality: Rishi, like the many members of her race she likes crushing people with a massive club, moonlit walks on the beach, and drinking gallons upon gallons of alcohol, she likes the simple things and looks to the lighter side of most situations despite how terrible the situation might be. Like many large creatures surrounded by smaller creatures, she has an arrow-proof attitude feeling as if nothing can really hurt her unless it's bigger and stronger than she is. While she seems simple when getting to know her Rishi is really really simple, she doesn't understand the human concept of money or caring for something smaller or helpless and believes that if you leave certain creatures alive they will come back to kill you later if they don't learn they aren't as strong as her or fighting her is useless and will give people an ass-kicking so they can learn it first hand.
History
Rishi's story changes with each time someone asks where she is from, in one story she could say she's from another world and had fallen into a portal to this one while she was in search of gold, alcohol, and out of boredom; in another, she would say that she was birthed by a human mother on a tiny farm not far from the current city that she is allowed into and woke up big with horns one morning; while in yet another, she would say that she was split from her mother and father during a fire and grew up in the wilderness without parents or anyone to take care of her. Her history is mostly all over the place, but she use to deal with a number of Oni that lived in a village, she would usually stay nomadic and wander the lands on her own wielding a number of iron clubs; a path of defeated humans would usually be the trail leading to her cave or the camp she would have set up, most of the humans that survived fighting her call her The Red whirlwind.
The moment the decay started to happen she didn't care about what was going on, nor did she think that the decay would affect her kind in any way, but she was wrong, really wrong. When she went to check on the village of Oni she would frequent a plague rolled in, many were lying in their own sick, unable to move, growing spots along their bodies with some even turning a sickly color, Rishi escaped from the village so she wouldn't get infected with whatever illness that they were blighted with. Back at her cave, Rishi wondered what could've infected, grabbing her favorite clubs, Rishi set out on a journey to find something that would help them. Weapons
Metal spiked great club
Studded wooden great club
Skinny metal great club
Magic
Oni roar: Rishi lets out a monstrous roar that puts fear in the hearts of true cowards and weeds out stronger and more courageous of people to fight her.
You're going nowhere: Rishi creates a magical barrier to prevent people from running away from her in the middle of an ass-kicking.
The real question is, what kind of dragon weapon would be acquired with the removal of the dragon tail?
I believe it's tailored to the person's style of fighting like if Rishi broke the thing off it would turn into war club or if edgy Jeggred cut it off he'd get a sword
I believe it's tailored to the person's style of fighting like if Rishi broke the thing off it would turn into war club or if edgy Jeggred cut it off he'd get a sword
How convenient, sounds like we must investigate further. For science, of course.
@AtomicNut Don't be selfish. Give part of your soul willingly to Jeggred. It's for the good of everyone!
Debatable. All I can see is the team suddenly losing a healer and then certain fool becoming a target of a centuries-spanning draconic revenge. Just because a certain someone could not keep their hands to theirselves.
Age: 135 Gender Female Race: Wood Elf Personality Despite her age and her position, Amila is quite naive. She's a kind sort, and will always try to help others who are in need. This kind of behaviour has also given her the title of "Benevolent Sage", which is used by common folk whenever they see her helping someone. While she is still somewhat grounded in her thinking, she often misreads situations and tries to solve things peacefully even when it is futile to try. Although she may sound like a pacifist, she's quite fearless in battle and is able to trust in her abilities as a Druid. History
Due to her appearance, nobody would believe you if you said that she was a Wood Elf. Her looks are that of an elf, but her magic is that of a wood elf Druid. Elves and Wood Elves.. A pairing that is rare, and almost unheard of as both cultures tend to stay away from each other due to their differences, and their disconnection by distance. As one may guess, Elves live in towns and cities, whereas Wood Elves make their homes in the forests scattered about the continent. As of today, Elven cities are under the jurisdiction of The Imperium.
As a child, Amila was shunned by her peers due to her appearance. She was pale, with blue eyes and silver hair; her Wood Elf peers all had tanned skin, and various shades of brown, red, and black hair. Thus she spent more time with the village elders than she did with children her age. As she spent more time with the elders she naturally grew an interest in Druid magics, and often found herself pestering the village druid about their works. Eventually they tested her affinity for such a magic, as it was rare for Elves like herself to be able to learn it. Much to their surprise and excitement, her affinity for druid magic was on par with the village druid.
With her parents unanimous support, she began her training as a druid. Over the next few decades, Amila had become a very proficient druid, quickly surpassing her teacher in terms of power. Upon completing her training, she was instructed to choose a familiar to help guide her on her journeys. So she chose the Raven.. Because she liked it. No other reason given, although her teacher saw this coming from miles away.
Over the next century or so, Amila and her teacher worked tirelessly trying to find out what was happening to Ciir, as the forests slowly wilted away. The young druid took it upon herself to venture out of the forests.
During her travels, she visited many small villages and towns. She would often find herself helping them as much as she possibly could. It wasn't long before her deeds and feats of power reached the ears of the Sages of Cirr. The Sages of Ciir were a council that ran a college for aspiring magus situated north of Asturica. As such, they were either very powerful or knowledgeable.. Or in most cases, both. Due to her sudden appearance, they took an interest in her, eventually inviting her for a meeting. This meeting lead to a wizard's duel, which was showcased in the Magus Arena. Such a duel was not out of aggression, but out of interest. In the end, they were impressed by Amila's magical prowess and style. They hadn't seen elven druidic magic in almost half a century due to their seclusion from the rest of the world.
During the next few years, Amila worked with the Sages, researching the reason behind Ciir's deterioration. Although they didn't find anything conclusive, she was given the title of Sage. Sage of the Wilds.
Over the next century, Amila continued her research, whilst helping those around her. Eventually the Sage council changed, as the old sages retired to user in the new generation. However, due to her impossibly long lifespan, she never needed to do such a thing. During her travels, she had the privilege of working with many others who sought for a solution to the peril that the realm faced.
Weapons/Equipment
Ring of Protection
Earrings of Power
Sage's white cloak
Magic
Summon Beast - Amila summons a beast of any kind. It's size varies depending on how much magical energy Amila uses when summoning it. She can also opt to summon only a part of a beast. ie. A bear's claw to strike an enemy, or a turtle's shell to act as a shield. Amila is able to see through these parts, as they are translucent only to her. Others cannot see through them.
Animal Aspect - Amila takes on one aspect of a beast of her choosing. ie. Hawk's vision, or bear's strength. She can only have one aspect active as a time. For example, if she is using Hawk's vision and wishes to use a Scorpion's stinger, she must deactivate Hawk's vision first. She is able to use the aspects of mythical beasts, however such things require more energy.
Control - This spell also allows Amila to give orders to summons and other beasts of lesser sentience. ie. Wild dire wolves.
Healing Magic - Amila is able to cure light wounds and common illness. Such magic was part of her basic training.
Gift of Tongues - During her time as a Sage, Amila had taken the time to learn every language there was in the continent. This includes communication with animals, and mythical beasts.
@AtomicNut not gonna lose a healer just because a teeny bit of your soul got sapped. The rich magic therein could be the catalyst to a very powerful version of Jeggreds spells.
The result could be instantly fatal to a powerful enemy. Is that not what she wants? To learn new amd strange magics?
@AtomicNut not gonna lose a healer just because a teeny bit of your soul got sapped. The rich magic therein could be the catalyst to a very powerful version of Jeggreds spells.
The result could be instantly fatal to a powerful enemy. Is that not what she wants? To learn new amd strange magics?
Be open minded.
(I'm totally not serious about taking a piece.)
Being a target is not learning.
What about Scarlet using Jaggred as sacrifice for her spells instead, mmm, did not he want to seek to atone? It would be a great heroic sacrifice. Or just steal his magic.