[OOC] Lethe: The Inalienable Dreamless

_{D A R K F A N T AS Y - H O R R O R - A D V E N T U R E
3 - 6 P L A Y E R S
[ ♫ ]}

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p r e m i s e

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“Always fear the flame, lest you be devoured by it, and lose yourself. I would hate to see that happen again.”
Dark Souls

Lethe: The Inalienable Dreamless is a collaborative story inspired by several mediums within the dark fantasy genre such as Demon Souls, Hexen, Akame ga Kill, Claymore, and Berserk. The idea came to me when I was bouncing creative ideas for a new project with my roommate; who, at the time, was playing through the Souls series in anticipation for the newest entry to the series.

Player Characters are lost upon their rebirth: entering a world with no answers to where they are, when they are, and who they are. They may have a name, they may have some brief thoughts on what they did; but they do not have any comprehensive knowledge or wisdom beyond that fact. Outside of retaining their skills and talents, characters will also be reborn with a power that is reflective of them; but their access to it will be brief no matter the level of power existing from within. These abilities are called “gifts of rebirth” and are unique to those who have been brought back, but it also means their soul is far more valuable this time around considering it has been imbued with divine energy. Evil men, monsters, demons, and spirits will sense this and try to harvest it for their own gain. But this is not the only damning part of being reawakened as characrts will, in time, see.

The setting is that of a post-apocalyptic medieval fantasy, and unlike other roleplays that’s really all you need to know to craft a character and engage in the setting. The world will be shown to you as we progress. The most important point I need to drive home is that characters are not “Badass McEdgelord” and whilst they were competent and skilled warriors, rogues, and wizards in their previous life their personality has fractured here and their anxieties and fears really control them going forward. This is a type of horror concept and I will only be taking a small group to join my character in this madness.

So, who is up for it?

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r e b i r t h

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Your character’s gift should be designed with the tone of the RP in mind. That said, I’m pretty much giving you the creative freedom to pitch me something with all of the training wheels removed. With this in mind, your power shouldn’t be unnecessarily vague or unbelievably powerful. You have the license to make something interesting.

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e x p e c t a t i o n s

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Pacing

• Activity will be left vague as social obligations such as employment, academics, and so forth take precedence over a shared hobby. But we should try to post with some regularity. Obligations will be reminded if needed, but this is a low-stress endeavor so we shouldn't feel the need to make extreme demands regarding this. Just communicate your schedule when there are issues and keep me informed is the bulk of it.

Writing Ability

• The writing level I expect is somewhere around medium expectations (high school-level equivalent). This means comprehensive understanding of basic grammar and spelling is expected, characterization is important, narrative is important, and detail behind those are appreciated. I’d like to see a few paragraphs, though if it fits a post that there is enough to respond to and react to within one paragraph than that’s fine, but one-liner’s will definitely be off-base. Keep with the fluidity and enjoy yourself; though quality posts don’t have to be textbooks. Quality over Quantity, yet have fun and make engaging moments of introspection and interaction.

• With that said, I will not be putting posts under extreme analysis nor will I be inciting a “word count”. So just use your personal judgment of quality and we’ll be awesome.

Etiquette

• Rule number zero of my perspective is pretty simple; don’t test my patience or be a irredeemable jerk.

• Generally, the idea here is a simplified version of any sort of rules since we are all adults and we pretty much know the big rules—follow the host site’s rules, communicate, collaborate, and don’t be antagonistic towards others or at the very least keep the toxicity to a bare minimum. Playful banter and crass jokes are one thing; but actively making somebody feel unwelcome is another one entirely. There is a difference between being blunt and being tactless.

Applying

• I will be reviewing up to five sheets for participating. This means if I have more than five people applying I will give it 2-3 weeks before I start reviewing them and deciding which seven I like the most. Applications should be posted in the OOC, particularly in the hider.

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s h e e t

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[+]

N a m e

“Quote that reflects your character.”

Character Name

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Your character’s name and kingdom of origin, even if they don’t remember this detail or not. There is no canonized list of kingdoms so you are free to use creative license to name them.

Age

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Your age at the time of death is the age you are at time of reawakening.

Gender

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Male or Female.

Archetype

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An archetype is like a class; I would like to understand what your role is in the group. Are you more of a frontline fighter or an arcane caster? Perhaps you would like to be more of a divine cleric or subtlety rogue?

Moral Conflict

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The critical conflict of all humans is how their thoughts and virtues were corrupted by their actions and sins. Characters have this universally, as they were not just brought back to redeem humanity but themselves. The souls of the reawakened are dark, and while they are given a new slate; who were they before their untimely deaths? Were they moral crusaders burdened by their own unrelenting wrath and pride whom did it all in the name of the greater good whilst they pretended they were a kind soul? Go into detail.

Physical Description

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A written description of your appearance and the appearance of your character, though keep in mind your armor is probably ruined and your clothes tattered.

Personality Traits

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A written description of your character’s personality post-death. This should implicate more of your root virtues than your past sinful desires and ideals; after all, you’ve been resurrected by the gods to save humanity. But will your sins come out as you remember more of your memories?

Attributes

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A list of your retained skills, talents, and non-magical abilities. This can include something background-based such as being the daughter of an alchemist or combat-oriented such as pike mastery. A list of these attributes is ideal for gauging if you can fit the setting of the appropriate power level.

Inventory & Equipment

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Some characters have retained equipment such as a mage’s foci, an archer’s quiver, or a masterwork sword that has survived decay throughout the ages. The more diminished and damaged the better, I expect you to have “broken” items as well as working items.

Gift of Rebirth

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The divine ability you were given by the gods upon resurrection. You don’t know how to use it (or even are aware it exists), so keep that in mind. This will be the central point on if I think your character fits what I’m looking for.

[mickilennial]

Prospective OOC is now a-go.

[NuttsnBolts]

Application:

Audhild

A u d h i l d

“I do not know whose blood is on my axe,
though I suspect they deserved what they had coming...”



╘♫╕

Character Name

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Audhild of Skogar

Age

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Twenty Five

Gender

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Female

Archetype

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Barbarian

Moral Conflict

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Filled with an ecstasy from feeding into fury, rage, and bloodlust. While for many the thought of entering battle captivates them in a wide range of emotions — from fear to honour, from servitude to freedom — Audhild feels as though her desire to fight is for a much more selfish reason, perhaps a thrill? At times she feels as though she was born to live and die on the battlefield with a destiny to soak the soil in the spilt blood of her enemies, and this confusion of her innermost malefic desires is what currently drives her to explore the depths of her enigmatic self.

Physical Description

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Audhild's long, wavy hair compliments the soft, textured tones of her freckled skin; a sandy, buttermilk blend which creates a sense of warmth and beauty. Most people won't usually see this alluring grace as it hides itself well under the war-paint, the layers of dirt, and the grime of the earth. She stands at a height which can be considered tall for her kind, but strangely eye to eye for those who come from other lands.

To cover her youthful and distressingly scarred body Audhild wears a tattered, hazelnut tunic, a linen dress which lightly rests upon her shoulders. Laying atop of these shoulders and the clothes she wears so often is the thick coat of a great beast's fur — the source of such an animal has been long forgotten. Her leggings are bone in colour, a durable woollen blend once crafted with skill, now haggard and in need of some care. Finally across her waist and extending up to her belly is a hickory coloured, animal skin and animal hide war skirt; an item of attire made from a similar creature to the ones which was once hunted for the crafting her boots.

Personality Traits

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One look into Audhild's eyes and anyone can see the flame burns deep within her soul; a flame of passion, fury, love, and loss. She is a woman with a fierce temper and quick thinking, but lacks the logical finesse for which the more educated hold so dear. Much like a wolf against a bear she understands the limits of her own strength, the extent her skills, and her underlying weaknesses; recognizing as a warrior everyday has the undeniable potential of twisting her fate into a lamb of the slaughter.

Out of the red mist of battle and beneath the darkness of the evening sky, Audhild has been seen to display emotions of silence and spirituality. Her lack of longing for a meaningful companionship and confusion about her place in the world holds back her ability to trust and sympathise with others. This odd trait is what ultimately defines her, and is the root cause of her inner anguish and desolation. She is a woman without a family, and a warrior without a tribe.

Attributes

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Fierce like Fire: For Audhild nothing is more invigorating, or more enthralling, than being one on the battlefield; she is a warrior, a survivor, and a force of absolute power. To fight alongside Audhild is to be compared to witnessing a painter with a badger bristle brush. Each stroke is meticulously accurate, a sweep with absolute beauty and confidence as she paints the scene with her blade — one can only admire the artist that she truly is.

To Chant & Charge: A bellowing roar, the pounding of soles, a heated blaze that sweeps across the scorched lands. There can be nothing described as more anxiety creating or fear inducing than the frontline sights of a screaming banshee masked in the blood of her fallen victims. With an inner willpower which can be seen driving her immense reserve of stamina, Audhild ensures death will come fast, painful, and filled with copious amounts of terror.

To Survive in Sickness: The key to one's survival lies in the preservation of life. A simple wound — shallow and uninteresting — can be so easily neglected and left to linger to a point where it may fester and evolve into a disease. Audhild's own knowledge in treating and mending these ailments, using elements of nature as ointments and bandages, helps to improve the chances of prolonging one's survival. If it's worth treating, it's worth trying.

A Trail Never Forgotten: A musty odor, a broken branch, and a ground crushing footprint — the subtlest changes to the nature's order are often noticed by the Skogarian woman. These are the marvelled skills of tracking, honed over the years and mastered into a collaborative collection of all five senses. Spend enough time with Audhild and any companion will soon understand what it is that she sees, what mysteries are left by those who travel the lands.

Inventory & Equipment

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Oyen’s Edge: An old timber handle axe, made from a carved length of golden oak with a blade that appears to be forged out of iron. The bevel of the blade appears to have lost its once sharp edge, coated in a fine layer of rust, forever embedded with the remains of a deep crimson bloodstain. An engraving of a name or a symbol can be seen on the poll of the head, but age and deterioration have taken over, hiding the truth to this mysterious identity.

Stohl’s Round Shield: Measuring at a weighty two feet in diameter, edged with a thick, pitted steel band, and lined with dry lengths of cedar timber, is Stohl’s Round Shield. This shield of immense defense rests at bay upon the back of Audhild and in older times it was once a reliable device of war; a banner for troops to rally under. Nowadays the face shows nothing more than flaking paint and weathered timber scars; a old companion who became complacent in the cemetery of slumber.

Gift of Rebirth

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Life Vision: Audhild has been blessed, or cursed, with the ability to see the flowing life force of any living creature within her surrounding area. Much like a sonar pulse, Audhild’s vision will change for a brief period, desaturating the world of all its natural colour and beauty, while in turn displaying the glowing auras of those who contain a living souls. Able to see through objects of stone, timber, and steel; this gift improves her skills of perception and observation tenfold with the main drawback being her inability to see monsters of the undead, certain cursed beings, and creatures not of physical form.

[RoccanIronclad]

Vayne the Erstwhile Sorcerer

Vayne Hastwen

“I don't care what you think, I will know what this is whether the gods like it or not!”

Character Name

Vayne Hastwen the Erstwhile sorcerer of Vycine

Age

26

Gender

Male

Archetype

Arcane Sorcerer

Moral Conflict

Vayne was a studious mage, the gift of the arcane was more a part of his soul than anything, in life and now he searches for the mysteries of the world, at any cost, no matter who he has to kill, blackmail, or steal from. Vayne is the menace that most colleges hated, he cannot let an object of his curiosity go and will drain anyone or anything to find it. Magic is his soul, and he would feed the flames as much as he can.

Physical Description

Vayne has pale skin from his years of study and living by candlelight alone, his raven hair dangles just above his shoulders, and his reddish brown eyes have a piercing quality to them. The man stands only five foot ten inches and is seemingly gaunt. Vayne always wears the same things, a dark blue cloak with silver trim, as well as the standard pants and shirt of the college of Vycine. Covering his body are the scars of numerous magical experiments that he has conducted upon himself, lines and mystic patterns clearly meant to unlock some greater magic, every one he bears with pride.

Personality Traits

As of being revived, Vayne has become more or less an advocate for the practical use and application of magic and magical items, his fascination with magic leads him to follow any mysterious magical anomaly. He seems kind and respectful, always trying to assist in some way, however always trying to do it with magic.

Should his memory return to him, his demeanor won't be overtly different, he may tend to be more obsessive over magical sources, he may become agressive with people that try to hold him back or prevent magic from being used. However Vayne is not a monster, he wants everyone to see him as a powerful mage and that is all, even if he has to kill a few naysayers to convince you.

Attributes

Sorcerous intent - Vayne was an adept mage in life, and as such has access to magic and the ability to cast them.

Pure Product - Vayne doesn't deal in elemental magic, his skill is in soul based magic, and anti-magic.

A Beautiful Mind - Vayne is as intelligent as one would expect a mage to be, mathmatics and memorization are no issue for this one.

Inventory & Equipment

Glimpse of the Soul - Vaynes magical focus, a faceted glass orb that reflects many reflections of the gazer within.

Vycine Standard - A large tome, filled with his notes from his travels and studies. Curious... the journal section is missing.

Vycine Crest - A pendant of the Vycine academy, a Lion with a gem set in its chest.

Gift of Rebirth

A Fractured Soul - Vaynes gift is one that both defies and completes him, a chance to learn more, He can sacrifice a portion of his own magical power, a fraction of his soul and give it to another, giving them access to the knowledge of one of his spells, however when he takes the fraction back, he gains the memories created by the person while they held his soul. This power has limits and great consequences, he can only give so much of his soul before becoming brain dead, this is dictated by his current strength, at the time of awakening he can only share a single shard. The amount of knowledge he gains is also a threat, more than a days worth of knowledge gained will shock his system and debilitate his casting ability for the remainder of the next day.

[Zynros]

I'm backing out, there's already five others, and all their characters seem better made than my attempt.

[Lotrix Molick]

I'm gonna post up my interest right now and finish up an application later on. If I get a chance to do it at work, I may do some work on one there, otherwise it'll probably be closer to 4pm Central before I get started on it.

[Supermaxx]

Helvete The Wise

H E L V E T E

“Me? One of the hated man-things? Perish the thought, perish the thought! I am one with the Wood, and the Forest is I!”

Character Name

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Helvete Solon The Wise, of Brightwood

Age

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Fifty One

Gender

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Male

Archetype

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Druid Priest

Moral Conflict

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As caretaker of the Wood, one of the Druid's duties is to protect nature from those who would do it harm. Helvete, lost in his zeal to defend what mattered the most to him, committed heinous acts against his fellow man- the same people who, ironically, belong to the natural world he's meant to safeguard. In the twisted logic of his mind, men are but parasites. Entities of hate who cannot appreciate the world the gods built, only tearing it apart to fuel their endless wars and bloody conflicts. He sealed himself within the root walls and twisted bark of his homeland, slaying all who so much as entered it, in some horrific crusade to cleanse the natural world of what he saw as leeches and vagabonds.

Physical Description

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Before his soul passed on and his remains tossed in a ditch to rot, Helvete covered himself in parts of the Forest. A deer's skull was shaped into a rough mask to hide his hideous man-flesh, antlers protruding from his head. A coat of leaves, vines and thickets made him look larger and more menacing to those who trespassed in his home, serving the duel purpose of keeping him warm in the winter.

But all that has become one with the earth once more. All that remains of Helvete's old attire are the tattered clothes he had fashioned from animal hides and linens. Upon his chest is a tightly woven and heavily worn out shirt of Linothorax- armor of cloth, some metal and animal fat. Beneath it lie less protective robes, colored in a mix mash of dark greens and browns, so that he might blend in with his surroundings.

Physically, Helvete is...odd. Once upon a time, he was young and strong. Of strapping muscles and leather-like skin, the Druid survived in a harsh environment with few luxuries provided to him. However, age has weathered his physical might and prowess. His arms and legs have lost a great deal of their original strength, and the old man grows winder more easily than he would like. There's also an awful knot in his back that he just can't seem to knock out. Long, unruly hair of blond is deafened by time's ever shifting sands, gray and white overtaking first his beard and slowly creeping up toward his head.

Full red cheeks are complimented well by the lines and creases brought along by his age. Eyes of deep emerald,
once so bright and hopeful, darkened significantly in the days before his death. Most odd of his look, as strange as it is, are the Druid's ears. They are extended, scarred and pointy, lacking the roundness one might expect. A cruel ritual of magic, meant to stave off the beginning signs of deafness, as well as to further distance himself from his human roots.

How Helvete died is not a mystery to him, or any who look upon him. Scars that could come only from the piercing of a spear cover the area over his heart. Parts of his body are burned, too. Spots of scarred, burned flesh cover his arms, legs, torso and neck. Whatever happened to the priest was a violent affair that he didn't wish to dwell on. It was all on the past, after all! He had a world to save. No time to dwell, no time at all.

Personality Traits

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The man that rose up from the grave exists in a strange state of halfness. In part he is like he was when he passed from this world: strange in his speech patterns, prone to muttering to himself to hear the sound of someone's voice, and insistent that he is not, in fact, a man. Rather, Helvete believes himself a spirit of the Wood. A wisp of the Forest given form. It's the only explanation for how he hears the trees whisper to him, after all; even if he doesn't understand a lick of what those damned things are saying.

Yet in part, Helvete is also like his old self. Before he fell from grace, his heart consumed by hatred and contempt for the very flesh that hung to his own bones. He holds within his chest the same heart of bright joy and love, particularly for nature, but also for his fellow man. Prone to share nuggets of wisdom he'd learned from the Forest, and ever ready to help any in need. A song exists upon his lips, and he's quick to try and make friends. Though eloquence is lost on him, Helvete loves to speak. To others, to the trees and animals, and to himself- anyone who will listen to him prattle on about whatever topic it is that has captivated his fractured mind.

When presented with the darkest humanity has to offer, that bag of resurrected bones always feels an odd...pressure in his chest. He cannot explain it. Like a knife has been plunged into his heart and set alight. It brings forth feelings that he doesn't enjoy to feel. Cruel, twisted rage is near alien to the old druid, yet he feels it burning in his heart more often than he would like. Solon is afraid of it. Afraid of what it means, and what it might mean if his memories ever return to him.

Attributes

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"Nature is the great provider!"

A man that has lived in the woods all his life knows more of berries, weeds and deer than he does practically anything else. While Helvete Solon remembers not the name of individual plants, he can tell you from instinct alone what is edible and what should never be put anywhere near the mouth. He knows a monster's den from that of easy prey, and animal tracks are as discernible as text to his old eyes.

"Suck on this frog."

One of the primary needs men had of the druid when he still served them was that of a medicine man. While nothing like those stick up pricks in big cities who could heal wounds with a flourish of the hand and a little magic, Helvete had methods that were...sort of...just as effective! He knew how to cure a cold, treat a fever and the best way to suck poison from a wound. While no master at potion crafting, Helvete knows a few remedies to help quicken the natural healing process.

"Ugly goblin-creep, have at you!"

Though older and more ragged than most of his part, Helvete is not entirely defenseless without his magic. His lessons have been forgotten, the Druid Priest knows his way around a quarterstaff through muscle memory alone. He can beat, bash and twirl with a stick better than your average woodsman. In a fight, Solon much prefers to stand behind men with a little more stamina and strength. However, if something manages to get past them and to him? The druid has it in him to fight back, even if he can't keep it up for very long.

"Come, monster-beasts, taste the fury of the Wood!"

By focusing his magic through his staff, Helvete is able to manipulate the power of Nature to assist him in battle. By his might he is able to cause a pair of Vilespines to sprout up from the ground, directing their poisonous spines to be fired into his foes. Or he might grow a vine out of the wall, commanding it to wrap around the arm of an enemy so that his ally might be spared a deadly stroke of the sword. A small tree may be raised to defend from a hail of arrows, or to knock a group of tightly packed opponents off balance.

As plants obey his words so, too, do some animals. Beasts of the wood, who's wills are small and easily bent, may be persuaded to aid in battle. Creatures of a fierce intellect will resist his call, if they so choose, sometimes even being enraged at the Druid's presumption that he is their master.

It takes a deal of concentration to use magic, especially in greater acts. The more complicated or difficult the spell, the more Solon the Wise must zero in on it. This may make him vulnerable while he is casting due to his lapsed attention, or the Druid may be able to only use that singular ability instead of multiple weaker ones. Magic depletes his stamina as well. If he's too tired, Helvete will be unable to perform most rituals, save for, perhaps, the very easiest of his magics.

Inventory & Equipment

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"This is my stick. His name is Oakheart."

A seven foot long staff made of Oak, crafted with an expertise that suggested it was an item of some importance. Even the sands of time have done little to unravel it, magic working to preserve it against all odds. There appears to be some fire damage, though the integrity of it's structure isn't compromised too badly by it. At the head of the staff lies a glowing gemstone, it's surface cracked and it's light dimmed, existing as a likely source of power for the Druid. Without the staff in hand, he is unable to focus his magic, so it is assumed the crystal has something to do with it.

"Who uses potion bottles to carry birdseed? Well, me, I guess."

A leather satchel with several holes in it's aging surface was found about the Druid's shoulder when he 'awoke' from the endless sleep. Based on the size of the bag and it's contents, it appears that he'd lost most of what he was carrying in it. However, there did remain a pair of specially crafted bottles within, their surfaces scratched up and ugly, but unbroken. They contained birdseed when Helvete first found them, but he believes they'd be quite useful for holding medicine.

"So unfortunate. I wish I knew what it said.."

An amulet lay about the neck of the old man, it's chain rusted and it's once beautiful surface made ugly by time. The silver necklace once held a runic inscription upon it, though the words had been scratched off, leaving it a mystery to the druid. A weak magical energy can be felt radiating off of it, though it's far too weak to be of any use. Perhaps once upon a time it was an artifact of some importance; now, though, it was little more than a hunk of metal.

Gift of Rebirth

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"A living statue. No moving, no seeing...what a terrible thing."

The gods, cruel as they are, seek to keep their resurrected warriors safe. When and why it happens, the druid knows not. But at intervals, Helvete finds himself growing horribly cold. Frozen to the touch, even. But a moment later his flesh transforms into granite, shifting in a terrifying and painful fashion. His ability to move is stolen from him, as well his his senses, though he is still 'aware' of himself. The forest wizard is nigh impervious when he's a 'statue,' though the drawbacks make it...less than an enjoyable experience for the man.

[CAS]

Anson the Thermatauge of Wilge

A n s o n

“Let wild the flames of conflagration; burn all to ash that hides the truth!”

Character Name

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Anson the Thermateuge of Wilge.

Age

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Thirty-three

Gender

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Male

Archetype

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Fire Mage

Moral Conflict

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Anson sought to reach new heights in the knowledge of magic. To this end he had become obsessed with discovering ancient rituals and knowledge to improve himself. This obsession drove him to maim, torture and kill until no reason dictated his actions. At its height this obsession brought Anson to consort with spirits and demons, seeking answers with wanton abandon for his own safety. Leaving behind any sound reason he ventured too far with monsters and was killed after a great backlash of magical power tore him apart.

Physical Description

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Anson appears to be in his early forties. Actually in his thirties Anson is tall and gaunt with wisps of grey in his beard and long blond hair. His blue eyes are deep-set, his crooked nose has been broken too many times, and he is missing teeth. He might have once been handsome when he was younger but is mistaken for a beggar more often than a mage now.

His robes were once a bright orange with accents of brown and red with golden accents sewn throughout the chest. Now it lays in tatters and held to his body by two thin leather belts to which a hand axe is slipped through. His trousers are a muddied black wool tucked into leather boots. Neither his attire nor possessions resemblance the wealth they once represented any longer.

Personality Traits

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The obsession of knowledge that once consumed Anson has been replaced by a natural curiosity in his rebirth. No longer motivated by unknown forces he seeks answers to the function of all things foreign to him with a childlike nature. His emotions are stifled as best he can lest they unintentionally affect his spells and magic and he projects an uneasy optimism in front of others. This optimism is insincere and Anson's true poor-outlook on circumstances is easily conveyed despite efforts otherwise.

Attributes

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Blessed by Fire - Mundane or magical all fires can be controlled at will by Anson. They do not harm him when he touches them, nor does the heat caused by them scald him. This allows him to weave his spells without much worry of self harm, though as in all things too strong a fire will inevitably consume him. As is the way of the world, if another's control of fire and wizardry than Anson, his own flames will be turned against him.

Searing Hands - Perhaps unique to him, though definitely cruel of him; Anson has learned to lay his hands on another to cauterize their wounds with his touch. This does not heal or comfort the patient and only stems the bleeding until an actual healer can med the wound. In the past Anson has used this to horrifying effect against those unwilling to speak their secrets.

Many Tongues - Through years of academic study Anson has learned many languages. He still retains his knowledge of the common tongue, some elven dialects and can piece together more or less how an orc intends to kill him. Sometimes.

Inventory & Equipment

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Busted Hand-axe - Broken, beaten, and blunted are all great words to describe the hand-axe Anson carries, but it makes a great cudgel and is fantastic for hitting things.

Tinder Stick - A long wooden staff adorned with a steel spiral cage at the head, this is a tool meant to carry fire during long voyages. Some of the steel spirals are bent and others have broken off however the tool still carries a smoldering ember in a bed of bark and old mans beard, assisting Anson in focusing his flames when casting spells.

Gift of Rebirth

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Touch of Madness - Unknowingly and twice unwillingly Anson has cast madness onto another soul through touch. He doesn't understand the logic behind the ability though perhaps there is none. In both cases only one person has been inflicted with madness at a time and they violently assaulted the person nearest them, being Anson in both cases, until they were restrained. The effect lasted a day after which point they had no memory of their fit and were copacetic.

[Lotrix Molick]

Einworus "The Brewmaker"

Einworus "The Brewmaker"

“Medicine and poison are but two methods to try and separate potions into legal categories. I offer them as they are: mixtures of reagents to fit your purposes.”

Character Name

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Einworus "The Brewmaker" of Qanistar

Age

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27

Gender

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Male

Archetype

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Rogue/Alchemist

Moral Conflict

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Einworus was far from a "moral" man. First, he grew up as the son of a noble family of alchemists. Second, he sought new recipes and reagents with such vigor that he would delve into dangerous locations, even going so far as to steal rare reagents out from under the noses of monsters and other people. Then, he created exotic potions that could heal as well as kill. His business served everyone from poor to rich. However, he ran afoul of both the guard for selling potions that could harm as well as criminals who sought to prevent him from giving their rivals a leg up on them. He died in a self-induced lab explosion, taking himself, the criminals, and the guard with him. Unfortunately, he died a week prior to his wedding with his lover, Archdeacon Orvia.

Physical Description

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Einworus looks distinctly nonhuman. Though he has much of the humanoid structure, including plantigrade feet and fully functioning hands with dextrous fingers and thumbs, his appearance is distinctly feline. His clothing is always light and airy, but it leaves his face and tail unobstructed at all times.
He does not go barefoot and wears leather sandals with knee high straps tightened with cords. Though his clothing was adorned with jewelry and sported vibrant colors, it is now tattered and faded from time. The tattering reveals the padded layers of fabric sewn into the clothing to offer substantial protection from arrows, claws, and weapons. The jewelry, while still solidly attached, is tarnished, dented, and occasionally chipped. On his back is a surprisingly intact backpack that holds most of his possessions. It has four smaller pouches attached near the bottom. At his belt is a ceremonial dagger. The sheath and hilt are missing various gems. The intricate engravings on the blade are partially etched out. The blade also has chips along the unsharpened spine, with cracks worming their way through the blade. It seems liable to fall apart at any moment.

Under his clothing, his feline features give him a deceptive physique. He is highly athletic and even moderately muscular, but the way his muscles sit and form obscures his strength. This gives him a perpetually lithe and almost frail looking appearance. His fingers and toes have retractable claws. He has salient green eyes with slit pupils. His fur is marked by black dots similar to a cheetah. Otherwise, his fur follows closer to a lion. A short, developing white mane grows along his jawline, neck, and the top of his head. His height follows a similar pattern to lions as well. He stands at an impressive 6'8", thus painting an imposing figure if it weren't for his frame.

Personality Traits

---

At his core, Einworus is a driven and curious man. He always wants to learn the next recipe or see what lies beyond the next hill. Along the way, he tries to be decent company. He tends to be sarcastic and joke around, trying to use humor to keep morale up. He is always up for a discussion. His personality leads him to have relatively muted emotional reactions, however. People often mistake his lack of reaction for lack of interest or apathy. He does feel the emotions, but his face and body simply do not translate that emotion well. This lack of emotive reaction tends to get him into trouble when people expect a reaction. He can have occasional flashes of high reaction, but they are relatively rare and only happen when in private.

Attributes

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Alchemy: Einworus is skilled at taking reagents and extracting magical properties from them. he can fashion potions and poisons to produce a variety of effects for both in and out of combat. However, he is not able to access spells or magic unless it comes from a reagent. This experience with reagents allows him to identify flora, fauna, and minerals that have alchemical properties.

Fencing: Due to being the son of a noble family, Einworus learned how to wield a variety of weapons,
armor, and shields. He is unaware of his martial skill, but he will intuitively wield equipment as he finds them.

Roguish Talents: As a means to obtain more reagents, Einworus developed his skill in lock picking,
sneaking, assassination, misdirection, and pick pocketing. As a supplement to his roguish art, Einworus encountered traps so frequently that he learned how to craft and design them as well as how to disarm them.

Many Tongues, One Mind: As the only outwardly magical thing about him, Einworus had the fortune (or perhaps misfortune) of being blessed by an Archdeacon in his kingdom. Her blessing gave him the ability to understand all spoken languages and read all written languages. His speech is automatically understood by anyone listening to him. He cannot write the unknown languages he reads and others cannot automatically understand his writing. This blessing has caused him to accidentally activate some magical wards or traps and makes him annoyingly able to have language dependent magic cast on him by anyone, anywhere. It also makes code words and other misdirecting language a headache as their true meaning gets relayed to anyone listening. Thus, Einworus has become skilled at sign language to relay coded information, though even this has its drawbacks. He does not yet remember knowing sign language.

Inventory & Equipment

---

Intact Equipment:
Portable Alchemy Lab: This allows Einworus to produce potions from reagents. As part of the lab, his backpack and pouches are lumped in with this equipment. They are specially treated to resist degradation from alchemical items and supplies, so they survive the test of time well.
Recipe Book: This book holds all of Einworus's known recipes. He can add more as he discoveres combinations, but these are the only ones he can quickly produce without needing days or weeks of development time.
Thief Tools: This is a set of tools designed to assist in crafting and disabling traps as well as bypass locks.
Archdeacon's Favor: The same Archdeacon that blessed Einworus was also his lover in life. Archdeacon Orvia gave this blessed ring to Einworus as a cementing of their relationship. The blessings on it prevented time from tarnishing or damaging it. When he wears or rubs it, Einworus feels his heart flutter and warm vestiges of emotion flow through him. He can only assume he dearly loved whoever gave him this.

Flimsy or Broken Equipment:
Handcrafted Shiv: Upon awakening, Einworus realized all his weapons were gone or nonfunctional. So, he crafted himself a simple stone shiv from materials on had.
Ceremonial Dagger: This dagger was both a decorative piece as well as functional back when Einworus lived. It is a symbol of his nobility, now broken and aged, with no value from his long gone social status.
Empty vials and bottles: An assortment of now empty vials and bottles adorn his pack and belt. Some were broken, others are still intact. He kept the intact ones for later use. Some of them have highly aromatic scents in them, evidence of past concoctions that drained out or evaporated.
Grooming Kit: The chewing stick, soap, and scented oils to clean fur all fell apart over time. The bone comb survived well enough to continue to be of use.
Armored Clothing: The clothing itself is tattered. The armor underneath lost a few layers over time. However, it remains sturdy enough to provide some protection. It is not as protective as steel, but it can still soften a blow and prevent deep wounds. Some highly puncturing weapons could still get through. The force of blows may break bones or leave bruises, but he may just survive a hit or three.
Picture of Orvia: This framed picture of Orvia sat next to Einworus. He removed it from the glass and inspected it. Though the colors faded from it and the edges were brittle, the picture itself remains in good enough shape to show off his former lover and fiance's appearance. Much like the ring, warm feelings emnate through him if he holds it. He assumes it is a portrait of the one who gave him the ring and frequently looks at her picture by light of the campfire.

Gift of Rebirth

---

The Magnum Opus: Einworus's blood, when distilled and combined with certain reagents, can stabilize and save even mortally wounded people. It can also function as an elixir of youth, restoring the imbiber to their peak age and condition. His blood, weirdly, always tastes like honey and leaves a highly sweet smell. In addition, the reagents are extremely rare and dangerous to obtain. Another downside is that the elixir of youth has the strange effect of changing any imbiber's species to another sapient species, though Einworus is immune to this odd effect. He is unaware that he literally became the Philosopher's Stone.

[mickilennial]

Some very interesting sheets, though I am honestly surprised the majority of them are casters. I’ll be making a decision with Molly sometime soon. I hope to finish Syrenia tonight as well.

[Lotrix Molick]

I'm curious if you consider Alchemists a caster. I generally don't given their indirect means of utilizing magic

[mickilennial]

Alchemists are more utility in my mind, but I do consider them magical and such.

[DruSM157]

Oh look at me, sneaking in here with a WIP like i'm some kind of heavily medicated badass.

Ulric

U l r i c

“There's a bigger reason why we've been awoken. We must serve a better purpose.”

Character Name

---

Ulric the Wanderer

Age

---

29

Gender

---

Male

Archetype

---

Fallen Soldier

Moral Conflict

---

Ulric can remember the anger, the greed and the cowardice of his past life; but only the simple emotions that were so powerful in his past life. He remembers his home of Galfia, a small agricultural nation; a place where he grew up as a commoner who fought his way into fighting in a powerful mercenary army. But beyond that? It's murky. He knows he has done evil, but the main feeling he has towards that period is shame and regret. He lacks the specific memories but he knows that he has much to regret.

Physical Description

---

Ulric is a medium-sized, stocky man. His build, which is quite muscular, is indicative of his line of work in his past life. His torso has scars from past battles. Ironically, he bears no scars from how he died. His hair is a shock of short, black hair, and he sports a thick beard which covers most of his face.

Personality Traits

---

Ulric is quiet and introspective, who spends his time thinking more on the bigger details of the world beyond the smaller details. Beyond the quiet, keen eye, Ulric is kind and warm, and willing to throw himself into harms way to help others. While he has a kind smile, Ulric is not extremely extroverted. He’s a quiet, introspective warrior; a man with a poet’s soul who has been denied the chance to explore his inner feelings. This is a far distance from Ulric the Wanderer the boisterous, violent soldier.

While usually cool and collected in combat, helping control the front line with his skills; he is constantly on the line of bravado and placing himself into extreme danger. Ironic, since in another life he was the man sending so many young soldiers to their own deaths.

Attributes

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The Valorous Blade

Even before his rebirth, Ulric was a powerful warrior, wielding most martial weapons with each. When heavily armored, he is capable of challenging many foes with many weapons. His skill with a blade and in combat is what made his past life rise from common obscurity to some noble strength.

The Cool Tactician

Ulric is capable of seizing the moment in a fight, and figuring out where his blade is best spent. He has an uncanny knack for eyeing up an enemy's weakness and attempting to exploit it.

Slow and Steady

Even without armor, Ulric is quite large. He lacks the agility of smaller fighters and instead focuses on his sheer strength and skill with weapons to keep him alive.

Inventory & Equipment

---

Broken Zweinhander: An rusted greatsword which has been broken halfway down the blade, forcing it to be an awkward and unweildy longsword instead of an actual hand and a half sword.

Commoner's Rags: Due to his station in life and the sad aspect of grave-robbing, most of Ulric's armor is gone; leaving him in nothing more than peasent's clothes. He still has thick leather boots, but lacks anything that will stop a sword or arrow from piercing his heart.

Gift of Rebirth

---

Ethereal Projection

Ulric's gift is a powerful but dangerous gift; allowing his soul to project out of his own body and deliver a follow-up strike after he hits an enemy. While this allows him to do a delayed copy-strike; this leaves his physical body open from the moment he projects to the moment it returns to him. The attack is also physical in nature; allowing it to be blocked or dodges.

[Kidd]

Corrine

Corrine Woods

“Difficulties strengthen the mind, as labor does the body.”

Character Name

---

General Corrine Woods of Astoria

Age

---

35

Gender

---

Female

Archetype

---

Knight

Moral Conflict

---

Mercy versus Justice. In life, Corrine struggled to maintain a clear conscious as an army general in the heat of war. She has made cruel decisions against innocent people under the assumption she was protecting her country and her king: she's lead annihilation or near-annihilation against other peoples deemed to be impure in some way, executions against rebels who dared to speak against the country, war crimes and slaughter against smaller armies without question, and ultimately blindly believing all this was for peace and stability. And as she grew, her judgement against offenders to the peace grew harsher. Balancing this "justice" against her desire to do good and protect the innocent creates inner turmoil for Corrine in death.

Physical Description

---

If Corrine has any beauty, it could only be described as haunting. She is white as can be, both her long hair and her skin. Her face is narrow and she has high cheekbones, giving an otherwise plain face a refined appearance. She has a small button nose and her white complexion is blemished with pink. Her paleness--sometimes sickly looking--is not her most outstanding feature, however: it is her crimson eyes. They are bright but oddly soft, complimented by a permanent scowl on her pale, full lips. Beyond complexion, Corrine is above average in other ways: she is rather tall for a woman, standing straight and proud at nearly 178cm / 5'10". Her frame is rather boyish and lean, but strong with hard, toned muscles beneath her conservative dress. Standing still, she may look like stone, but underneath her clothes are some pink scars that speak to her mortality.

Personality Traits

---

Corrine comes off as rather stoic, but there's a softness to her red gaze. It's difficult to engage her in casual conversation, but she does her best to polite and humor another if they mean well. She seems to lack a sense of humor to match others, but unexpected friendliness or flirting will catch her off guard and leave her flustered. Despite this quietness to Corrine, she can be surprisingly brave. She is protective of others--particularly women--and will not shy away from the right thing to do. She stands angrily and stubbornly against injustice and harm done to others, willing to risk her own honor for the sake of others. She is a proud person who is not easily swayed by the will of anyone else.

Attributes

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• Weapon handling: Corrine is an expert in swordplay, and is most comfortable with a sword and shield; but she was once most proficient with a bow. However, albinism has taken its toll on her eyesight and while she can man a bow, her aim is very poor.

• Hand-to-hand combat: While Corrine is absolutely deadly with a weapon in hand, she is also a decent fighter if she and her opponent are weaponless. Her strength may lack compared to bigger men, but she relies on her smarts as well.

• War leadership: Corrine was a general to her country's army in life. As a result, not only does she excel at quickly reading a new situation, she has the confidence to bark orders as she deems necessary.

Inventory & Equipment

---

• Cracked monocle: In life, her failing eyesight made it hard to read and write. The monocle helped and she always kept it on her person.

• A beautiful shield: White steel with Astoria's military crest engraved on the front--a lion at its center.

Gift of Rebirth

---

Heart of the Lioness. Corrine can summon a small pride of ethereal big cats to fight at her side. They are hers to command, but doing so takes a lot of concentration. When discovered, she'll quickly learn that the more she tries to control, the less she'll be able to focus on fighting for herself. Each lion essentially takes a part of herself, and she's splitting her awareness between X amount of beings. Loss of control could result in them turning on her or her allies. The lions can be dismissed, but they also wound and die like the real thing, and Corrine feels every part of it.

[Lotrix Molick]

Now that the site is moderately functional, how's it going for everyone?

[mickilennial]

Now that the site is moderately functional, how's it going for everyone?

@UnseenShade

Not too well if my status and lack of consistent activity is anything to go by. But I'll live.

[Lotrix Molick]

Well, hopefully things go swimmingly. Ill be around if you want to start this up following the current situation, so take the time you need to get everything in order and keep sane.

[mickilennial]

Oh, I lost my sanity a long time ago.

[Supermaxx]

[Lotrix Molick]

You lost your sanity? That makes you that much more interesting!

[mickilennial]

In the effort of getting this started and it not staying forevermore in purgatory, I’ll be working on the IC relatively soon. I’ve thrown all accepted characters into the 0th Post in the characters tab. For those who were waiting and didn’t get accepted, my apologies.