Full Name: Alias (Optional): Appearance: Gender: Age: Race: Abilities (If any): Short Backstory: Likes: Dislikes: Fun Facts/Trivia: Items:
Character Creation Guidelines
Lucky Number Three Each person participating in this roleplay will receive three character slots, but they only count for PCs, because they're the only ones who have a CS like the one you just saw. The NPC CS will be added soon. Side note: Anything physically conjoined takes up one slot.
How Ya Lookin'? Appearances in the CS can be either a picture, a description, or both.
Too Edgy For You? When writing out the snippet of your characters backstory for their CS, try to keep the edginess below the elven mark, please.
Eh, Could Be Better If you want to add anything to your CS, whether it be for that one personal CS, a whole new CS in general, maybe add an extra category, or doll it up a bit, please PM me your request.
Full Name: Dain Johnson Alias: DJ Appearance: Gender: Male Age: 81 years old Race: Humanoid Abilities (If any): is a fanatic of elemental spells, healing spells and can defend himself with stick and sword. Short Backstory: Dain is an experienced Magic Wizard. He has worked for several kings, lords, other wizard and witches during his lifetime. He was born into a Wizarding family, most of them became famous. Dain did not become famous, no matter how hard he tried. During his life he tried to meet Merlin, but never succeeded. At start of the RP.. Dain is still searching for Wizard Merlin. Likes: magic, nature, friendship, travelling, sunset, dragons and unicorns. Dislikes: fire, deceitfulness, the wicked, goblins and giants. Fun Facts/Trivia: He is a big fanboi of Merlin The Wizard and is dying to meet him. Items: Staff used as walking stick, a sack with: coins, a small book full of notes and a visual sketch of Merlin The Wizard.
Full Name: Norilyyn Lithor Alias: Nora Appearance: I sadly don't have a picture, so it'll have to be a description for now.
Straight dark auburn hair, resting just below his shoulders, with some of it pulled into a small bun in the back. His bangs are put into two little braids with little yellow and white flowers at the ends. One large brown eye, like that of a cyclops, with some beautiful eyelashes to boot. Deeply tan skin, with not a crack in sight. A stumpy, chubby build. (He stands at 4'11/149.86 cm, and weighs about 211 lbs.)
His clothing consists of a handmade robe of dark layered silk and bear fur, draping over hand-me-down leather working shorts, a spider silk dress shirt under a vest of beaver pelt with little silver buttons, and to go with it all, a pair of short leather and skunk hide boots.
Gender: Male Age: 108 (Young Adult) Race: Microclops (Part Dwarf/Part Cyclops) Abilities: He can, surprisingly, jump extraordinarily high (three feet without trying much at all), and is quite the skilled climber. He can hold, carry and throw almost anything, as long as it's under 250 pounds. He may not be able to chuck full-on boulders, but he will repeatedly pelt someone/something with small and sharp rocks, to rocks twice the size of your head. He can speak to small woodland animals, like squirrels and rabbits. Short Backstory: Nora is a very curious person. He's always loved to adventure and learn new things, but he can't seem to figure out what's a bad idea and what's not, so when he heard about the portal that had appeared near his village, he just had to see what was on the other side! Long story short, he's been getting chased by hunters ever since he stepped foot here. At the start of the RP.. Nora is just trying to find somewhere safe to stay, before he gets caught by the hunters. Likes: Nature, gemstones, starry nights, chinchillas, exploring and honey. Dislikes: Hell hounds, mirrors, thunderstorms, being used as an armrest and titans. Fun Facts/Trivia: He is somehow constantly warm. He is also one of the best huggers in the world, and willingly gives hugs to anyone who needs it. Items: He always carries on him: a pouch of small, sharpened stones, a handmade chinchilla plushie, a leather notebook with self-encouraging notes in it, and flowers. Lots of flowers.
She stands at an even six foot tall and weighs a solid one hundred and ninety pounds though most wouldn't be able to tell since she looks like she weighs half that. Most would assume a warrior such as herself would have sizable muscles but her body has more of a leaner muscle structure, at least the parts that remain. Given the fact she's animated with dark magic muscles are hardly necessary though since biologically speaking she has no right to be moving at all, let alone with such strength.
Her skin is a blue tinged grey like that of a drowned corpse. Her body might be far less bloated than the average floater but she looks no less drowned. Her hair is a murky dark green, not unlike kelp. Her hair is straight albeit messy more often than not and cut just above her neckline. Her face while bearing some slender femininity is a bit rounder, a softer jawline with cheeks that are more full with a lower cheekbone that accentuates the eyes which... Well, require some explanation.
The sockets which once housed eyes are empty now. More than that the eyelids themselves are missing as well, leaving the eye sockets open up to the edges of the skull, leaving only the eyebrows. Inside the hollow apertures her eyes once occupied is a deep darkness, an abyss so black staring deeply into them can leave one's grip on sanity loosened. As though swimming in the shores of the fathomless darkness which appears to stretch on for eternity are two spheres of winding light in an unearthly yellow hue, one mote for each socket.
Her armor is no less imposing than herself despite it's piecemeal collection of parts. Her helmet is a large dark iron greathelm, concealing all but the intangible clots of yellow light that serve as her eyes which shine through the narrow eye slots. Her body armor is a massive breastplate far too heavy for any average knight to use. It's plates are half an inch thick. For shoulder protection she wears a large set of dark iron pauldrons. On her arms she wears dark iron gauntlets and vambraces. Her legs are protected with a set of gilded but scratched iron greaves complete with once elaborate cuisses that look like whatever designs they were embossed with has been smashed into a spangle of loose metal atop the plates. Her weapon is a large ship anchor which has been covered with more than few centuries worth of rust, wielded by the loop it's tied by. It's attached to a chain which is wrapped several times around her left arm which is her dominant arm.
She's been reanimated by a dark, ancient power that calls her physical form home. As such there's a number of changes to her, some simply being facets of being a member of the living dead and others brought upon her by the forgotten one's power.
Firstly as one of the undead she no longer holds the needs of the living. She does not need to eat, sleep, drink or even breath. Diseases and poisons sit idle in her flesh for her blood had ran still long ago. She no longer experiences fatigue and can exert herself endlessly without fail. While she no longer feels pain nor the comforts of warmth she still holds a dim sense of touch.
She has no eyes of the tangible variety but she can see perfectly fine, not only in the light but also in the darkness no matter how tenebrous it may be. This comes at the cost of being able to see in color, leaving her only able to see in shades of grey. She no longer holds any sense of taste or smell either.
In addition to the traits of being undead are the dark gifts bestowed upon her. She holds a strength far greater than any mundane man or beast. The entirety of her body is connected by this strange power so that even if an arm, a leg or even her head is removed she can control them no less than when they were still attached to her. Not only does this long forgotten essence keep her flesh from rotting like some mere cadaver but it also protects her from the harsh tolls of the water.
The dark force which animates her has it's own appetite, the souls of her victims. Any being who takes a killing blow from her will, upon their death, have their soul peel away before it is pulled into her, an effect which enacts itself passively. Her flesh cannot heal as living flesh would so the only means of undoing harm rendered upon her is to consume a soul which restores the state of her body to a more intact form. On top of this her strength grows with each soul consumed, the amount of strength gained proportionate to the relative power of the victim. Should she advance to her later stages she'll gain abilities relative to her existence as a spirit possessing a body such as floating and telekinesis limited to her belongings, especially the anchor.
Due to the nature of the power animating her any remaining magic derived from the gods of light and life will naturally react negatively when exposed to her dark essence. Necromancy however is especially effective on her given her undead state. This can be either a boon or a curse depending on the whims of the necromancer.
Short Backstory:
Since her reanimation from the day she crawled out from the sunken ruins of the forgotten one's temple she only remembers walking, dragging her anchor behind her along the unfathomably deep trenches of the ocean floor. She wandered lost for thousands of years. Her memory of this postmortem is largely a haze, the only memories coming through clear being of those from before her death.
When she finally found her way to the surface the fishing village she happened upon at the beach were quite frightened of her. They had little means of fighting her off but she seemed to have no interest in attacking them in the very least. Quite the opposite really, they were the first people she had seen in so long she was fascinated by them. She hung around, slowly learning their language. She always was something of a slow learner but she had all the time in the world. She even learned how to fish, even if she had little use for fish herself. The villagers certainly appreciated her catches though.
This period of peace was interrupted however when the Kingdom of Zorelle caught word that she was occupying this village. They held little love for those they believed to come from across the gates and she was no different in their eyes. They sent in their men to try and banish her away but were largely met with their death and destruction since Gangraena actually enjoys fighting and never tires of it.
For months the fighting continued, always dispatching the bands of warriors they sent her way. She'd slay them and then take pieces off their gear to add to her own, eventually become the walking piecemeal collage of metal most who are unfortunate to cross her path now see. Still, she was always happy to meet new people. If they wanted to fight then she was happy to do that too.
Wandering the land she had overheard the rumors of there being a land of outsiders, people from strange far off realms having come together to live under one banner. Always keen to find and make new friends she set into the outskirts on her own accord, fighting off whatever dangers accost her as she treks her way across these lands.
Likes:
-Making new friends. -Fighting. -Cute things. -Doing anything that doesn't involve walking along the bottom of the ocean for thousands of years.
Dislikes:
-Boredom. -Walking along the bottom of the ocean for thousands of years. -The magic of gods who oppose her unknown patron. -Things that are anathema to the order she was raised under.
Fun Facts/Trivia:
- She doesn't know what exactly she is or why she was brought back. - She was raised to be a paladin of the order of the sun. - She doesn't know that she eats the souls of her victims. It just looks like steam that rises off the bodies of those she's slain and breaths into her.
Items:
- Her anchor. Despite the endless years of rust the old makeshift weapon's thickness had ensured it's survival so far. It may be pocked and riddled with old barnacle shells but it still holds up to both the rigors of travel and the trials of combat. The chain attached to it's ring is a recent addition, the original one having broken apart deep below the waves quite a while ago.
- Her armor. A collection of borrowed pieces from foes she has slain. Some parts are even segments of armor that have been strapped or crudely nailed onto preexisting articles. She tends to show preference towards heavier, more protective gear.
Just gonna assume a like from the OP/GM counts as approval:
Given Name: Sashin Ylladi Chosen Name: Tiffany Aliases: ‘Tiff’ Titles: Lady of Iron Age: 451 Race: Night elf Marital Status: Single
Outward Demeanor: Cras, blunt, and forward. Touch anything in her shop that’s liable to get you killed and she’ll let you know. Notable Personality Traits: Passionate | Likes working with things that could kill her | Prideful | Adrenalin-junkie Likes: Making a sale | Saunas and hot-springs | People who speak their mind | Repeat customers Dislikes: Customers that are “just browsing” | Mud and ash | Haggling prices | People dying in her shop | Digging
Accent/Dialect: Picked up several Drawven mannerisms in her travels, accent included. Decent singing voice, tho. Laughter: Deep, hearty, and throaty Hair Color & Style: Black, often tied-back or covered Eye Color & Shape: Fiery amber ovals with a flicker of red when visibly angered Face: Sharply pointed ears that go with her chin, but a stubby little nose Physical Build: Stocky, but buffed and polished to perfection Skin Complexion & Color: Soot and shop-grime covered purple… sometimes mistaken for a pitch-black drow. Height: 5’ 9” Weight: 135 lbs Scent/Perfume: Smells of copper, iron, fire, and slow-roasted mahogany.
Racial Abilities & Traits: Ages gracefully (ish), skin tends to glow rather than blushing
Strengths: Her heightened vision helps with heat-treating and she can hear the different metallurgical properties of metals when struck by a hammer.
Weaknesses: Although she works with iron… it’s still not good for her to walk around covered in metal-filings. Although she’s inherently strong, prolonged working-hours often leave her feeling utterly spent and exhausted.
Takes offense to being mistaken for a drow. Not used to being looked down upon, and would rather people who did take their presence and business elsewhere.
Whenever she isn’t busy blacksmithing, or needs to make herself ‘socially presentable’ she tends to take a dip in the local wharf to scrub the soot off since her workshed doesn’t have a shower.
Tiff actually does have money, she just constantly re-invests it in tools and materials rather than upping her social-status directly. Her total wares on display are actually expensive enough to bankrupt a small country…. In addition to probably killing anyone who so much as leans against them.
Also, is actually a half-elf… kinda why she left in the first place to study. Problem is a person like herself doesn’t fit in with dwarves….
