Modern Fantasy * School Life * Seinen * RomCom * Action Romp
You have died.
Your life as a hero in your native world has come to a glorious end. Whether it was in a flurry of bullets against your greatest rival or with sword and bone against the demon king, your ultimate goal was achieved at the cost of your life. As darkness fills your vision and the voices of your allies slowly fades away you feel your soul return to the ebb and flow of origination. Consciousness begins to slip away before suddenly hearing the distant voice of a woman. It feels as if you're floating weightlessly through a soothing ocean of darkness as you grow closer and closer to the voice and finally a blinding light fills your vision.
A white room.
It was a small area with only enough room for three pieces of furniture, two whitewood chairs and a matching whitewood table. The floor was a glossy similarly ivory white surface but as your feet made contact with this material it seemed to chime out an ethereal noise with each step. As you peered around the room you would find that it was empty despite the source of the voice clearly being here. You approach the table and pull one of the chairs out before taking a seat. You notice that atop the small square table is a small pamphlet, a pen, and some blue-green spherical gemstone. As you take the pamphlet within your hands and begin to read your mind begins to slip away.
Blessed Hero, While I am sure you are feeling a number of different emotions I can assure you that you are no longer in danger. Not only because I, Deus, pose no threat to you but also because you are already deceased and a few moments ago you were on your way to plane of spirits. I'm sure your adventures on the mortal plane were grand and you leave the world of the living with a heavy heart as loved ones, friends, and family are left behind to cope in your absence.
But have Hope, Luckily for you the plane of spirits is rather packed with countless numbers of ghosts collected over the eons. Maybe I should have been a little more selective of who I let through the golden gates, but it's too late for that now. Which leads me to the contents of this contract. Reading through you'll find that I am offering you a second chance in life through the means of what I'd like to call Soul Recycling. As your soul is recycled it will be sent to a different world where you will be reborn with a clean slate, a new life, new experiences, all for you a hero of a previous world to experience.
There are some fine print things along with this however, x You will be born to a new mother and father starting at the ripe age of zero, maybe you won't look remotely similar to your old self. x You will lose all memories of your previous life keeping only muscle memory of skills and talents along with you in your new life, of course you will need to stumble upon these strengths on your own. x You will only be allowed a single heirloom or keepsake to be carried with you in some facet to the new world, and don't worry about how that happens, I'll make sure that they reach you in your new life. x Meeting any other recycled souls in the new world may cause some of the amnesia to wear off, we recommend that you instinctively avoid these people for your own mental health and their own. x Following the laws and rules of this new world will be greatly encouraged as we will be spectating from the heavens. Breaking these will result in Holy Infractions and once you have received three of these we will not only pluck your soul from the new body, but destroy your soul entirely.
Other than that everything else should just come naturally. Once your name is printed upon the this contract, the Recycling of your Soul shall commence.
As your character signs his/her name upon the blank line at the bottom of the contract they suddenly find themselves being grabbed by hundreds of shadows hands pulling them back to the door in which they entered the room. As they're tugged back into the void the light that guided them grows and more distant until they find themselves in complete darkness, and once they're fully consumed by the void they're thoughts will begin to escape their mind. Slowly their memory will wither, and then their sense of self dwindling and reverting to that of a nascent being. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe you felt its importance. Either way you deliberately disobeyed Deus and took the gem on the white table with you as you were dragged back into the void of death, and as you left that void the jewel seemingly traveled with you. A treasure owned by a god, just what kind of repercussions would be held for taking something like that with you to the new world? But then that woman's voice would be heard once again before the embers of their past existence finally dies out.
"Quite disobedient, aren't we?" She would whisper to your fading soul.
And then you're reborn, to a new family and a new world. All dreams and aspirations from your former self are forgotten, a free spirit to explore what awaits in the new world. Whether that be an exciting new life on earth or a relaxing one enjoying the comfort of monotony is to seen, but each of these former heroes have one thing in common. Around the age of ten years old they'd find that a translucent gem somehow made its way into their bedroom, bathroom, somewhere in their proximity. When their skin meets the crystalline surface, a strange familiarity would surge through them and bring comfort usually causing the child to hold onto the object instinctively.
Over time the child's parents would find that their offspring is surprisingly gifted at something. Whether it be reading languages, dancing, singing, swordplay, or painting, this gifted child stands out among the crowd and brings pride to their family and are recognized by their peers. Eventually a knock on the door would arrive and behind that door would be a two black-suited Americans wishing to talk to your parents. They offer the best schooling possible, promises of success, deep rooted connections in the world of the elite, all of which will be finely tuned in order to bring out the fullest potential for their child. An offer that no parents could ignore and most would take this offer with no questions asked. Sending their child to Kurtzpel University is the greatest opportunity for any youth.
And then you pack your things into the fancy limousine and kiss your parents goodbye.
Name
Image of Artwork/Anime that best represents your character. Age * Gender * Birthday
Physical Description : What does this student look like? Personality Description : Explain the behavioral mannerisms of the student. You can also list tropes that they fill? Bio Description : Who is this student, where did they come from? Talents : What are they good at? Things they've learned in their new life and also things they've inherited from the past. Academic Affinity : Which subject are they strongest at? Can be one not listed below. Extra : Extra stuff.
Physical Description : What did this hero used to look like? Bio Description : Be as extensive or brief as you like. Tell us about their past life. Legends : Any legends or stories about your character prior to being reincarnated. Combat Affinities : Strong suits of physical combat. Styles, martial arts, but no actual chuunibyou finisher moves? Magic Affinities : Affinities of magic that you had. Don't list spells, just specializations? Extra : What was the OP to their Anime? Name of Gem : A fractal of your past life that you carried with you. Holds your twenty status points for combat in the future. Stamina : How sturdy is your body? Strength : How macho are you? Dexterity : How nimble is your body? Intellect : How wise are you? Faith : How faithful are you to God, or the previous gods of your old world?
Kurtzpel Academy is an enigmatic occurrence in the academic world. Not only is the school privately owned and staffed, but also it is strangely tucked away on an unmarked island where a town surrounds the sprawling Academy facilities. Within the school you'd find that it incorporates a multitude of studies, contemporary and even some more niche ones. The teaching staff are hand selected by the school's figurehead Barnes Macantire, all of which are specialists in their specific fields that they teach. The staff members are required to sign non-disclosure agreements and are compensated financially to live on the island alongside the students.
The Academy itself is a beautiful structure constructed to be a spectacle inside and out, gardens, marble pillars, polished hallways, aesthetics spared no dollar when it was built. But there are also more specific constructs within the schoolgrounds. Behind the Academy is a massive sports field with a track route, batting cages, and even an indoor facility with a swimming pool. There's also gardens scattered around the facility which are maintained by a large team of groundskeepers, one of which holds a whitestone statue of a beautiful woman holding a spear in her right hand and a lantern in the left.
Club activities and class comradery are very encouraged at Kurtzpel, as is competition among the students. Tests are held with scores being ranked for public display, higher rankings are rewarded where lower standings are punished. Afterall, in order to even gain the attention of the Academy's benefactors you'd need to be extremely gifted in the first place. These students are the cream of the crop an have gotten to that point through whatever means necessary, by their own hand or their parents. To uphold that standard the teachers are ruthless on the students with their performance having no restraint in enacting disciplinary measures and often expelling students who fall below a certain grading average.
Schooling Style - Western Student Age Range - 10 through 18 Scheduled Hours - 0600 til 1300(6am til 1pm) Standardized Courses - Linear Algebra, Structural Biology, Literary Analysis, Theoretical Historiography, and Cognitive Psychology.
Petir Donh Leon - Cognitive Psychology The newest teacher in Kurtzpel's Staff. Mr. Leon seems to be a bit of womanizer among the staff. He doesn't get along with Mr. Macantire.
Bailey Brooke Bambauer - Literary Analysis Barely speaks to their students, reads even while teaching. A popular teacher among the students, mostly because of their laxness. Seemingly really chummy with Ms. Fletcher, speaking to her remotely over voice chat during school hours.
Cha Jong-heun - Structural Biology Monotone, boring, the type of teacher who puts you to sleep. Mr. Jong-heun is more famous than the other teachers in mainstream media. Lives in the forest for some reason?
Dawn Union Macantire - Theoretical Historiography Not cut out for the teaching gig, but she's Ms. Macantire so.. Tends to go on long rants about conspiracy theories. She smokes indoors and people hate that.
Tiara Quinn Fletcher - Linear Algebra Not A.I, Ms. Fletcher lives somewhere on Alano and teaches remotely. She controls the security infrastructure in the Academy. Rumor has it that she's younger than some of the students.
To be added.
Alano is roughly 45 square miles in size making it large enough to host the school and the town around it, with a small circumference of forest around it's borders to masque the constructs from ships passing by. There is a constant surveillance along these borders with armed guards patrolling the beaches to dissuade any curious travelers who happen upon Alano on accident.
The school sits in the centermost of the island and although the academy is a marvel of architecture it was constructed with the forestline in mind to shroud structures. The whitewood trees on Alano are quite tall but this sentiment is shared among all the buildings even in the town. The town isn't as fancily designed as the academy instead being constructed of more typical painted concrete and brick, but the islander aesthetic does come through at the more leisurely locations, with tiki bars and totem poles at some locations.
The people who live on the island that aren't school staff or students are employed by Kurtzpel's benefactors to keep the town organic and lively. Many of these employees took the job happily as they were financially compensated quite well, and were even given free housing on the island. Because of this a lot of these employees even opted to take their families along with them to Alano which resulted in daycares and children facilities being built afterwards as well.
Okay, WIP character sheet! Still need the Lore section filled out but I have most of it done! Please let me know how its going ^.^
Hiroshi Damien Johnson-Najira
15 * Male* October 14th, 2010
Physical Description: Hiroshi is relatively easy to miss at first glance. Shorter than most of his peers, Hiroshi barely reaches 5’ 4” and keeps a lean frame from daily workouts and regular time at his family’s dojo. He has black hair that he lets grow out just long enough for him to tie up when he practices and piercing blue eyes that he got from his dad’s european heritage. Unfortunately, he inherited his mother’s fair complexion that demands to stay indoors or it burns immediately. He usually keeps a few tubes of sunscreen handy in his bag just in case.
Personality Description: Hiroshi is blunt and believes a direct and honest approach is the best approach to any social interaction. He has little tolerance for drama and gets easily riled up when people involve him in it. If they’re pulling him in, they better expect a solution, not a comforting ear.
He excels at first impressions, his family instilling that much into him at least, and most people walk away thinking Hiroshi is a responsible level headed teenager but they would be incredibly wrong. Hiroshi is the friend that 100% supports kicking your bully into the dirt and curb stomping them without telling the teacher, that is already halfway out the door when you ask for a snack at 3am, and shows up to help you break out after curfew if you want to hang out. He responds to things instinctively and quickly, rarely thinking things all the way through before heading out.
That isn’t to say he doesn’t have more than a few insecurities. His biggest one is his height, or lack thereof, and if he is pushed too far on the issue, he’ll show off exactly what it means to be the heir to the Najira dojo. After all, they can’t tell his height if they’re face down in the dirt. But there are other things too. He collects soft, cute things, particularly in pink and purple, but hoards them privately. He has difficulty remembering people in the first few meetings so he introduces himself as Damien at school and Hiroshi at home so he knows based on how they greet him, where he knows them from.
Bio Description:
Hiroshi Damien Najira was born on a freezing October night in Shinhidaka, Hokkaido, one hundred miles from his mother’s ancestral home. Emika Najira was the second child of the master of the Najira Dojo, a famous training facility for Japanese olympians, athletes, and martial artists. The family claimed they were direct descendants from one of the original ninja of old times and every child is rigorously trained in their practice and are expected to serve in the Japanese Self Defense Forces in some capacity or another. Emika was no different, joining the JSDF when she was 18 and qualifying to enter the Directorate for Signals Intelligence two years later. She remained in the DSF for another five years, two over those overseas as part of a collaboration team with the U.N. intelligence community, before she let her contract with the JSDF expire.
When she returned, Damien Johnson followed her. Damien Johnson grew up in London proper, attending all his schooling in local boarding schools, until he graduated with a finance degree from Oxford university. He was a hot shot financial executive from a family well known for their political and medical accomplishments and he had all the intents to add financial into the family portfolio as well. Damien was a few years older than Emika but hopelessly smitten and he followed her back from England to Japan without a second thought.
He’d done his research. They’d talked about taking their relationship beyond where they were and when they reached the Najira family home, he asked for her hand in the traditional method. Her father had been originally set against the relationship, since he’d just found out barely a month before, but seeing his dedication changed his heart and he gave it the blessing on one condition: the children take the Najira family name. It worked perfectly into their plans. Emika never intended to give up her last name and they’d decided when they had children, they’d hyphenate their last names.
The pair relocated permanently to London for a year after their marriage but Emika found the city stifling. They found a home an hour away from London by train and the happy pair snatched it up easily. They kept their London home as well, the family’s income easily affording both. Emika established a second Najira Dojo in London and its reputation grew for the almost brutally intense master of the Dojo. Pulling on some connections she’d built from her time with the U.N., Emika was contracted to train new recruits accepted into british special services which she did with aplomb.
Two years later, they added Hiroshi to their family. He grew up much the same as his mother, in a strongly disciplined household despite his inherent tendency to chaos. His mother introduced him to the family traditions even earlier than normal because his energy was seemingly endless and he took to them like a fish to water. He displayed a startling aptitude for the martial arts, almost anything his mother could teach him, and quickly surpassed the classes for his age group. Once he had this to focus on, his grades also improved quickly now that he had an outlet for his excessive energy.
Growing up, Hiroshi never wanted for money. Between his dad’s explosive financial; career and his mother’s generous military contract on top of her fees for training olympians and martial artists that followed the famous family name, Hiroshi lived an incredibly modest life. The Najira family way ensured that it wasn’t lavish by any means but Hiroshi can sometimes be insensitive about the subject when he encounters quality beneath his expectations.
Talents: Jiu jitsu (modern), Ninjutsu (previous), fighting games, holding his breath, silent walking Academic Affinity: Cognitive Psychology, Japanese History, Japanese Extra:
Fluent in Japanese and English.
Participates in the Kendo club (if it exists).
Introduces himself as Damien at school. Only close friends are allowed to call him Hiroshi.
Loves spicy food.
Dawn is his favorite time of day.
Struggles to stay up past 10pm.
Physical Description: Malvira Nia was easy to miss at first glance. Standing at 5’3 with moon pale skin and a lean frame packing more power than originally met the eye, most didn’t realize who she was until they coward underneath an unrelenting pair of crystal blue eyes. Malvira carried herself with a strength derived from confidence in her mission and a grace from years of combat and stealth training. By the end of her life, her body was littered with scars including three claw marks that ran across her face from a particularly nasty fight with a Martyr Favored.
Bio Description:
In the beginning, chaos reigned. Light and Dark, and the spirits that lived within, clashed since time immemorial. Eons of incessant fighting passed before a tentative balance was reached. This softer push and pull, give and take, created the earth, the sky, and all the creatures that lived in between. These newly created creatures saw the opposing forces as they did now. They honored those responsible for their creation and gave the forces names: Dia and Nia. The spirits of both were uncertain how to handle these newly formed creatures and so they flocked to the new world to see what they created for themselves.
As the Dark is wont to do, the spirits of Nia wandered among the new creations immediately. They found these new mortals endlessly fascinating and with time, doted on them. Their hearts filled with affection and they brought the struggling mortal under their wing. They taught them what they knew: they taught the mortals compassion and empathy, they taught them the importance of creativity and imagination, they taught them magic to hide and disappear and ways to brew elixirs for sickness. The spirits of Nia filled with love for these mortals and they lamented at how their children were stolen from them as they aged and passed. They hadn't known the pain of a loved one lost and with the passion the Children of Nia would become renowned for, the Darkness sacrificed it’s immortality to share its power with all of its children if only to live on with each of them forever.
Meanwhile, the spirits of Dia descended on another part of the mortals and found themselves enamoured with the image of themselves the mortals revered. The spirits took the form of powerful, winged creatures and claimed their place as the rulers of these lesser mortal races. They taught their servants architecture and business, built up trade and religion, and taught them to navigate with the stars. The Dia found the mortals pathetic, sad, and endlessly naive as their efforts served to exoll the Dia in all ways. As a gesture of good will, the Dia raised a single mortal above the rest and imbued him with a little power from each Dia, ensuring that they were unaffected by the sacrifice, and called him the Favored. The Favored gained powers beyond what any single mortal possessed and he ruled over the mortals of the Dia.
Although the existence of the world and its creatures benefited all spirits equally, the time old tensions rose between them and the mortals shifted to accommodate. The mortals of Dia and the mortals of Nia drifted apart and territory disputes began. The spirits recognized the threat their fighting possessed and so they met away from the mortal place to discuss how to proceed. Negotiations were tense. The conclave nearly quit or came to blows but weeks later, they came to a conclusion: ritual combat.
Every 10 years, the Children of Nia and the Favored would meet on the border of the territory of Dia and Nia to act as proxies for their guiding spirits. This would allow the world to remain in one piece and slake the spirits’ instinctual need to clash with each other.
The Dia didn’t change their practice. A single mortal would be raised, granted powers beyond mortal capacity, and rule the rest. This mortal would be the Dia’s champion at the Conclave event each year until the next Favored was old enough to carry the burden. However, the Nia had long lost their immortality. Instead, the trained their descendants in ancient techniques, melding magic with martial might. It was no secret they didn’t have the brute strength to overcome the Dia’s Favored so they learned. They studied everything they could, honed their skills day and night, and relied on each other. These families that dedicated themselves to the cause of the spirits became known as the Keepers of Nia. They swore a sacred vow to protect their communities from harm within and without. Many of the Keepers would step away from leadership roles because it clouded their ability to watch for threats impartially. Others took up the mantle eagerly and thrived.
So the world found an odd peace. Tensions between the communities faded away as the natural balance was found once again. It seemed a utopia.
Until 5000 years later, when a Favored discovered the Dia were only using the mortal race for their own gain and in his fury, massacred the Dia and absorbed the entirety of their powers. The Light consumed his mind, transforming him into an angelic beauty. His face turned to porcelain, forever twisted in the visage of his final lament, and he rose above his lands with only thoughts filled with the greed of the Dia. They fed him and his need for power extended past the lands of his people. His advisors begged him against and he branded them as heretics, killing them in the streets of their own home. The horror that he saw that day marked his entire people as traitors and he considered them worthless. Now called the Archon, he used his powers to warp his people into immortal creatures made in his own image. Twisted beauties, they became known as the Favored. Like the Archon, each face was now a porcelain mask displaying whatever last expression that had before the transformation claimed their minds.
The Archon declared war and it was brutal. Faced with the unrelenting might of Light and the unchecked fury of the Archon at the mere existence of Dark, the Keepers were soon forced to retreat. They herded as many as they could into the inner territories, setting wards and barriers to stall the Archon’s advance. They established cities with walls and gates infused with shadow, developed techniques that allowed their blades to drip darkness, and mastered guerrilla warfare and infiltration. The varied techniques of the past slowly died as the Keepers fought for survival.
Those caught outside the protected cities would soon find their minds succumbing to the light of the Archon and warping into one of its Favored. The Favored knew nothing of compassion, of mercy. They only knew of the ever growing hunger for power and conquest. To make matters worse, the Keepers discovered that the longer the war continued, the more new generations were born without the connection to the Nia. Hope was a scarce resource as 10 of the 12 cities collapsed beneath the Archon’s might and the remaining free mortals began to starve without the land to feed themselves.
Driven to desperate measures, the Keepers infiltrated the Archon’s Citadel in hopes of stumbling across any information on a critical weakness of the Archon and its Favored. Instead, they learned the nightmarish ritual the Archon used to strip the Dia of their power and start its age of unending bloodshed. They barely managed to escape with the information but the sacrifices they suffered were not in vain.
It took a century to complete the ritual. The second of the remaining free cities was battered with the renewed wrath of the Archon. Previous failures to complete the ritual cost the Keepers another life but in the end, the Keepers stripped themselves and their ancestors of their power and imbued it into one single child. Malvira Nia was raised under strict tutelage with the understanding that she was the child ever Keeper―no. Every mortal―placed their hopes in. It was stifling. A burden put on shoulders not yet strong enough to hold it. So she ran.
It would take years but watching the sister city of her own crumble beneath the Favored woke her up to the necessity of her destiny. She threw herself into her training, rallying the people behind her, and rode out to push back the Favored with her own soldiers besides her. For the first time in 5000 years, the Keepers won a battle.
The war was tough and at every corner, Malvira Nia was there to restore her soldier's resolve and defend them in battle. But as great of a leader, a general, and a soldier she was, anyone under her command would acknowledge that she was distant and cold. Most commended her dedication, even expected it, but those closest to her knew she accepted death as a certainty and they fought back against it. Those who grew up with her, her tutors, and even the few stragistest she worked closely with worked to make her open up, to accept that they could figure out a solution in which she lives because nothing in this world is ever certain.
It took the near death of someone she loved to make her change her mind. Malvira was known for risky operations that only relied on her but the soldier who would become Malvira’s life partner interfered when Malvira was close to failure, successfully turning the tide of the operation but nearly dying in the process. Mavira learned that day what she would be leaving behind if she died recklessly and her operations became less risky, more calculated. It drove her forced forward even faster. The old Keepers learned how to revert the Favored from their twisted state back to mortality and their numbers swelled.
It was a tale as old as time. The inevitable clash of Light and Dark that would put an end to this war once and for all. The Archon discovered Malvira’s love and capitalized on it, manipulating the resistance forces to sending her life partner and another small group to infiltrate what was supposedly a low risk encampment that the Archon itself would appear at moments after the group’s capture. Malvira was handling a wave of new Favored assaults when she received the news. She turned on her heel and rode into the night to face the Archon face on without a word to anyone.
The Archon’s intent was to mow Malvira down with the Favored but its pride demanded he accept the challenge she threw in its face. Their battle lasted three days and three nights. Her forces rallied to her, trying to penetrate the heart of the encampment to offer the last Keeper their support but they couldn’t keep up with the sheer numbers. Her friends, her family, her soldiers fell to the light and transformed into Favored even as she battled it’s source. Malvira’s rage and desperation built with every fallen friend.
The dawn of the fourth day broke the stalemate. The building fury finally exploded and drove her blade, dripping with Darkness, into the Archon’s heart and he crumbled to the ground, the Light fading as he did. The Favored shifted back. It was a painful, terrifying process but eventually the Favored would return to their mortal forms once more. Malvira thought she’d escaped.
But the Archon had one final curse. A spiteful curse on this land and those who defied him, the Archon uttered it with its final breath and a torrent of Light was unleashed on the world. For there to be harmony, Light and Darkness must be in balance and now that Light was let back into the world, Malvira knew the Darkness inside her was needed as well. She gave herself over to the Dark and she faded along with the Archon, the darkness pouring out of her to neutralize the Archon’s curse.
Legends:
When city fell and lives did flee, Pursued by Light in perverted glee, Find themselves upon the ridge Where all hope did crash and halt With no way out and no retreat. A single crossing guaranteed Their lives were forfeit.
When Sun met sky in cradled zenith, Light ignored their fervent pleas For sweetest mercy on their knees. The horde which snarled bespoke their fate As minions of what they hate.
And yet why did they still make pleas? None had answered for so long. And even as the their lives and homes Crumbled to dust around them , Their spirit sang out for sweet reprieve.
None who lived to tell this tale Recall the moment when all. Held a collective breath. The world around them stilled on its axis And even Light stopped in its tracks.
For in domain the wrong side of day Stood Darkness with blue eyes ablaze Sweet Meralyn with easy song Blade ready against the coming fray.
And so did Light command its slaves To claim the Darkness for the Day But firm she stood against the point, Swift as song and true as arrow With not a flinch or show of fear As Sun continued to its drink.
Next came Pious, Large of jowel, jaw, and claw, Four legs to rip and tear And still did Darkness with the bout As Meralyn screams and shouts, Dripping white with Favored blood And corpses growing beneath her butt.
Soon screamed Fervent, Reflections of us, Mortals who fell Beneath Light’s lust, Yet still fall did they In heavy foray And added to the growth.
Soon the Sun dipped down its head, The slivered moon regarded its friend With favor and fun as She bathed in its light While true Light considered To fight or to flight.
Wisely did It choose To flee beyond the moon But not without rebuke or two When Martyred Favored Bodies blocking out the sky Lumbered slowly forwarded To blot out the night.
With eyes held shut, Their hope all but gone, Since Darkness did naught For their own flesh and blood With the felling of cities Why should She now Stand against those who commit such atrocity?
And yet there came none, No Light in its waves, No carcasses of Martyr scattered across their flesh With not even a whisper Darkness had best The worst of the nightmares Light yet created And upon that podium Of Light’s single loss Did the Bridge of Malcant Restore our hope lost.
Listen close and listen well, children. The grove over yonder must never be entered. You all know the one; it glimmers bright even beneath the dark of night in perpetual defiance. You little ones won’t remember the time the Light came to our village. The monsters that scratched at the sky. We called them the Martyred Favored. As big as a house with as many arms and legs as four men, each tipped with razor sharp claws that’d cut even stone in twain with ease, more so a man. But that wasn’t why they were made.
No. Those were only to protect its body, swollen full as if with child. It stomped unheeded by thorn or brush, caring little for anything in its path, as it made its way to wherever the Light demanded. It had no mouth so it killed for pleasure, made no noise other than the screams of its victims and the weight of its steps, but a moving Martyr was what you preferred. Because when it stopped, it exploded.
Light would explode from inside and corrupt everything it touched. Living creatures turned to Favored, ground purified of life, and anything else disappeared. The first one to ever be stopped was right here in this village. A soldier noticed the creature escape from the battle on the ridge and come thundering down to us. We saw it and we despaired, even as the soldier came galloping down behind it.
He cut it off at the grove. The two battled and we wept at his cries of pain and we wept when we heard the thunderous footsteps still. We knew what we would become. We braced ourselves as best we could, putting anything between us and them even if it meant nothing. The grove turned bright, blinding, and pure, and we mourned before we couldn’t anymore.
And then, just like that, the skys turned dark before its time. There She stood, the last Keeper of Nia, a blip against the impending explosion. Tendrils of Darkness stretched from the sky, up form the ground, and even from the air itself, all bending to Her will as she wrapped the grove with one hand and cradled the soldier, unconscious, with the other. The world shuddered as the ground quivered beneath the monster’s ire but Her will stood firm with a simple flick of her fingers as the deluge crashed against Her. It rose and rose and rose and rose until it vanished into the sky, returning night to day, and left only the trees bright with Light.
So no you cannot go into the grove or a monster you’ll become. Just gaze upon it in awe and always remember the day that Darkness came.
Combat Affinities :Malvira was the final Keeper from a long line of families. Training in the various styles was expected since birth, turning into an equally well rounded fighter with bows (Kyudo), blades (Kendo), polearms (Naginata-do), and hand-to-hand combat (jiu jitsu/judo). Her own personal family specialize in various methods of unorthodox warfare (ninjutsu), specializing in tessen and wakizashi.
Malvira preferred to avoid direct combat and instead relied heavily on the hit and run tactics of guerilla warfare. The plan was always to end the engagement before it started. Doing so saved lives, conserved resources, and enabled them to handle issues in a timely manner. With a mix of planning, magic, and a heavy dose of finely honed instinct, Malvira was an expert at maintaining the advantage in battle.
Things didn’t always go as planned though. She traditionally opened with the bow, crafting arrows from shadows to help maintain her advantage. If the first shot didn’t take out the target or there were more targets than a single shot could eliminate, her first goal was relocation and her methods changed depending on the situation. If they weren’t intelligent enough to pinpoint her original location, she’d move manually just enough to be far enough away that she had a new angle. If her location was compromised, she’d rely on a combination of cloaking and teleportation magics to move between shadows quickly and silently and use their confusion to launch another attack.
Still, there were far too many times that she wasn’t able to maintain that advantage so she quickly closed the distance herself to surprise her enemy and hopefully catch them off guard. Her initial attack would often use the wakizashi or the throwing knives she kept on her before she’d retreat again and conjure a shadowy naginata to buy herself time to analyze her opponent. If it managed to move past, she’d drop the naginata for her tessen. Using it to defect and distract, she’d either force an opening in their guard with the rapid opening and closing of the fan and strike with a dagger or blade or wait until she had a moment to retreat back into cover to reposition and start again.
Hand-to-hand combat was a last resort. Being smaller, slighter, and lighter than most of her opponents often put her at enough of a disadvantage to dissuade her from using her techniques often but when she had to, she knew how to use their weight to her advantage and then target joints to paralyze them before materializing a shadow blade to plunge into their exposed spots.
Magic Affinities : Malvira’s shadow magic wasn’t showstopping. Her magic augmented her own fighting styles rather than eclipsed it, working into a pleasant harmony of martial prowess and magical surprises. Her primary use of magic was to create weapons from them, allowing her to conceal her attacks better than metal weapons that may accidently reflect light, to appear unarmed when tricking enemies into pressing their false advantage, and striking at enemy openings in the middle of a fight that drawing a weapon may not allow.
Its secondary purpose was concealment and movement, shrouding herself in them to make it harder to find her at night or in foliage, and disappearing between shadows and from various angles when she needed to reestablish a favorable angle of attack.
Physical Description: Hiroshi is relatively easy to miss at first glance. Shorter than most of his peers, Hiroshi barely reaches 5’ 4” and keeps a lean frame from daily workouts and regular time at his family’s dojo. He has black hair that he lets grow out just long enough for him to tie up when he practices and piercing blue eyes that he got from his dad’s european heritage. Unfortunately, he inherited his mother’s fair complexion that demands to stay indoors or it burns immediately. He usually keeps a few tubes of sunscreen handy in his bag just in case.
Personality Description: Hiroshi is blunt and believes a direct and honest approach is the best approach to any social interaction. He has little tolerance for drama and gets easily riled up when people involve him in it. If they’re pulling him in, they better expect a solution, not a comforting ear.
He tends to make good first impressions, his family instilling that much into him at least, and most people walk away thinking Hiroshi is a responsible level headed teenager but they would be incredibly wrong. Hiroshi is the friend that 100% supports kicking your bully into the dirt and curb stomping them without telling the teacher, that is already halfway out the door when you ask for a snack at 3am, and shows up to help you break out after curfew if you want to hang out. He responds to things instinctively and quickly, rarely thinking things all the way through before heading out.
That isn’t to say he doesn’t have more than a few insecurities. His biggest one is his height, or lack thereof, and if he is pushed too far on the issue, he’ll show off exactly what it means to be the heir to the Najira dojo. After all, they can’t tell his height if they’re face down in the dirt. But there are other things too. He collects soft, cute things, particularly in pink and purple, but hoards them privately. He has difficulty remembering people in the first few meetings so he introduces himself as Damien at school and Hiroshi at home so he knows based on how they greet him, where he knows them from.
Bio Description:
Hiroshi Damien Najira was born on a freezing October night in Shinhidaka, Hokkaido, one hundred miles from his mother’s ancestral home. Emika Najira was the second child of the master of the Najira Dojo, a famous training facility for Japanese olympians, athletes, and martial artists. The family claimed they were direct descendants from one of the original ninja of old times and every child is rigorously trained in their practice and are expected to serve in the Japanese Self Defense Forces in some capacity or another. Emika was no different, joining the JSDF when she was 18 and qualifying to enter the Directorate for Signals Intelligence two years later. She remained in the DSF for another five years, two over those overseas as part of a collaboration team with the U.N. intelligence community, before she let her contract with the JSDF expire.
When she returned, Damien Johnson followed her. Damien Johnson grew up in London proper, attending all his schooling in local boarding schools, until he graduated with a finance degree from Oxford university. He was a hot shot financial executive from a family well known for their political and medical accomplishments and he had all the intents to add financial into the family portfolio as well. Damien was a few years older than Emika but hopelessly smitten and he followed her back from England to Japan without a second thought.
He’d done his research. They’d talked about taking their relationship beyond where they were and when they reached the Najira family home, he asked for her hand in the traditional method. Her father had been originally set against the relationship, since he’d just found out barely a month before, but seeing his dedication changed his heart and he gave it the blessing on one condition: the children take the Najira family name. It worked perfectly into their plans. Emika never intended to give up her last name and they’d decided when they had children, they’d hyphenate their last names.
The pair relocated permanently to London for a year after their marriage but Emika found the city stifling. They found a home an hour away from London by train and the happy pair snatched it up easily. They kept their London home as well, the family’s income easily affording both. Emika established a second Najira Dojo in London and its reputation grew for the almost brutally intense master of the Dojo. Pulling on some connections she’d built from her time with the U.N., Emika was contracted to train new recruits accepted into british special services which she did with aplomb.
Two years later, they added Hiroshi to their family. He grew up much the same as his mother, in a strongly disciplined household despite his inherent tendency to chaos. His mother introduced him to the family traditions even earlier than normal because his energy was seemingly endless and he took to them like a fish to water. He displayed a startling aptitude for the martial arts, almost anything his mother could teach him, and quickly surpassed the classes for his age group. Once he had this to focus on, his grades also improved quickly now that he had an outlet for his excessive energy.
Growing up, Hiroshi never wanted for money. Between his dad’s explosive financial; career and his mother’s generous military contract on top of her fees for training olympians and martial artists that followed the famous family name, Hiroshi lived an incredibly modest life. The Najira family way ensured that it wasn’t lavish by any means but Hiroshi can sometimes be insensitive about the subject when he encounters quality beneath his expectations.
Talents: Jiu jitsu (modern), Ninjutsu (previous), fighting games, holding his breath, silent walking Academic Affinity: Cognitive Psychology, Japanese History, Japanese Extra:
Fluent in Japanese and English.
Participates in the Kendo club (if it exists).
Introduces himself as Damien at school. Only close friends are allowed to call him Hiroshi.
Loves spicy food.
Dawn is his favorite time of day.
Struggles to stay up past 10pm.
Physical Description: Malvira Nia was easy to miss at first glance. Standing at 5’3 with moon pale skin and a lean frame packing more power than originally met the eye, most didn’t realize who she was until they coward underneath an unrelenting pair of crystal blue eyes. Malvira carried herself with a strength derived from confidence in her mission and a grace from years of combat and stealth training. By the end of her life, her body was littered with scars including three claw marks that ran across her face from a particularly nasty fight with a Martyr Favored.
Bio Description:
In the beginning, chaos reigned. Light and Dark, and the spirits that lived within, clashed since time immemorial. Eons of incessant fighting passed before a tentative balance was reached. This softer push and pull, give and take, created the earth, the sky, and all the creatures that lived in between. These newly created creatures saw the opposing forces as they did now. They honored those responsible for their creation and gave the forces names: Dia and Nia. The spirits of both were uncertain how to handle these newly formed creatures and so they flocked to the new world to see what they created for themselves.
As the Dark is wont to do, the spirits of Nia wandered among the new creations immediately. They found these new mortals endlessly fascinating and with time, doted on them. Their hearts filled with affection and they brought the struggling mortal under their wing. They taught them what they knew: they taught the mortals compassion and empathy, they taught them the importance of creativity and imagination, they taught them magic to hide and disappear and ways to brew elixirs for sickness. The spirits of Nia filled with love for these mortals and they lamented at how their children were stolen from them as they aged and passed. They hadn't known the pain of a loved one lost and with the passion the Children of Nia would become renowned for, the Darkness sacrificed it’s immortality to share its power with all of its children if only to live on with each of them forever.
Meanwhile, the spirits of Dia descended on another part of the mortals and found themselves enamoured with the image of themselves the mortals revered. The spirits took the form of powerful, winged creatures and claimed their place as the rulers of these lesser mortal races. They taught their servants architecture and business, built up trade and religion, and taught them to navigate with the stars. The Dia found the mortals pathetic, sad, and endlessly naive as their efforts served to exoll the Dia in all ways. As a gesture of good will, the Dia raised a single mortal above the rest and imbued him with a little power from each Dia, ensuring that they were unaffected by the sacrifice, and called him the Favored. The Favored gained powers beyond what any single mortal possessed and he ruled over the mortals of the Dia.
Although the existence of the world and its creatures benefited all spirits equally, the time old tensions rose between them and the mortals shifted to accommodate. The mortals of Dia and the mortals of Nia drifted apart and territory disputes began. The spirits recognized the threat their fighting possessed and so they met away from the mortal place to discuss how to proceed. Negotiations were tense. The conclave nearly quit or came to blows but weeks later, they came to a conclusion: ritual combat.
Every 10 years, the Children of Nia and the Favored would meet on the border of the territory of Dia and Nia to act as proxies for their guiding spirits. This would allow the world to remain in one piece and slake the spirits’ instinctual need to clash with each other.
The Dia didn’t change their practice. A single mortal would be raised, granted powers beyond mortal capacity, and rule the rest. This mortal would be the Dia’s champion at the Conclave event each year until the next Favored was old enough to carry the burden. However, the Nia had long lost their immortality. Instead, the trained their descendants in ancient techniques, melding magic with martial might. It was no secret they didn’t have the brute strength to overcome the Dia’s Favored so they learned. They studied everything they could, honed their skills day and night, and relied on each other. These families that dedicated themselves to the cause of the spirits became known as the Keepers of Nia. They swore a sacred vow to protect their communities from harm within and without. Many of the Keepers would step away from leadership roles because it clouded their ability to watch for threats impartially. Others took up the mantle eagerly and thrived.
So the world found an odd peace. Tensions between the communities faded away as the natural balance was found once again. It seemed a utopia.
Until 5000 years later, when a Favored discovered the Dia were only using the mortal race for their own gain and in his fury, massacred the Dia and absorbed the entirety of their powers. The Light consumed his mind, transforming him into an angelic beauty. His face turned to porcelain, forever twisted in the visage of his final lament, and he rose above his lands with only thoughts filled with the greed of the Dia. They fed him and his need for power extended past the lands of his people. His advisors begged him against and he branded them as heretics, killing them in the streets of their own home. The horror that he saw that day marked his entire people as traitors and he considered them worthless. Now called the Archon, he used his powers to warp his people into immortal creatures made in his own image. Twisted beauties, they became known as the Favored. Like the Archon, each face was now a porcelain mask displaying whatever last expression that had before the transformation claimed their minds.
The Archon declared war and it was brutal. Faced with the unrelenting might of Light and the unchecked fury of the Archon at the mere existence of Dark, the Keepers were soon forced to retreat. They herded as many as they could into the inner territories, setting wards and barriers to stall the Archon’s advance. They established cities with walls and gates infused with shadow, developed techniques that allowed their blades to drip darkness, and mastered guerrilla warfare and infiltration. The varied techniques of the past slowly died as the Keepers fought for survival.
Those caught outside the protected cities would soon find their minds succumbing to the light of the Archon and warping into one of its Favored. The Favored knew nothing of compassion, of mercy. They only knew of the ever growing hunger for power and conquest. To make matters worse, the Keepers discovered that the longer the war continued, the more new generations were born without the connection to the Nia. Hope was a scarce resource as 10 of the 12 cities collapsed beneath the Archon’s might and the remaining free mortals began to starve without the land to feed themselves.
Driven to desperate measures, the Keepers infiltrated the Archon’s Citadel in hopes of stumbling across any information on a critical weakness of the Archon and its Favored. Instead, they learned the nightmarish ritual the Archon used to strip the Dia of their power and start its age of unending bloodshed. They barely managed to escape with the information but the sacrifices they suffered were not in vain.
It took a century to complete the ritual. The second of the remaining free cities was battered with the renewed wrath of the Archon. Previous failures to complete the ritual cost the Keepers another life but in the end, the Keepers stripped themselves and their ancestors of their power and imbued it into one single child. Malvira Nia was raised under strict tutelage with the understanding that she was the child ever Keeper―no. Every mortal―placed their hopes in. It was stifling. A burden put on shoulders not yet strong enough to hold it. So she ran.
It would take years but watching the sister city of her own crumble beneath the Favored woke her up to the necessity of her destiny. She threw herself into her training, rallying the people behind her, and rode out to push back the Favored with her own soldiers besides her. For the first time in 5000 years, the Keepers won a battle.
The war was tough and at every corner, Malvira Nia was there to restore her soldier's resolve and defend them in battle. But as great of a leader, a general, and a soldier she was, anyone under her command would acknowledge that she was distant and cold. Most commended her dedication, even expected it, but those closest to her knew she accepted death as a certainty and they fought back against it. Those who grew up with her, her tutors, and even the few stragistest she worked closely with worked to make her open up, to accept that they could figure out a solution in which she lives because nothing in this world is ever certain.
It took the near death of someone she loved to make her change her mind. Malvira was known for risky operations that only relied on her but the soldier who would become Malvira’s life partner interfered when Malvira was close to failure, successfully turning the tide of the operation but nearly dying in the process. Mavira learned that day what she would be leaving behind if she died recklessly and her operations became less risky, more calculated. It drove her forced forward even faster. The old Keepers learned how to revert the Favored from their twisted state back to mortality and their numbers swelled.
It was a tale as old as time. The inevitable clash of Light and Dark that would put an end to this war once and for all. The Archon discovered Malvira’s love and capitalized on it, manipulating the resistance forces to sending her life partner and another small group to infiltrate what was supposedly a low risk encampment that the Archon itself would appear at moments after the group’s capture. Malvira was handling a wave of new Favored assaults when she received the news. She turned on her heel and rode into the night to face the Archon face on without a word to anyone.
The Archon’s intent was to mow Malvira down with the Favored but its pride demanded he accept the challenge she threw in its face. Their battle lasted three days and three nights. Her forces rallied to her, trying to penetrate the heart of the encampment to offer the last Keeper their support but they couldn’t keep up with the sheer numbers. Her friends, her family, her soldiers fell to the light and transformed into Favored even as she battled it’s source. Malvira’s rage and desperation built with every fallen friend.
The dawn of the fourth day broke the stalemate. The building fury finally exploded and drove her blade, dripping with Darkness, into the Archon’s heart and he crumbled to the ground, the Light fading as he did. The Favored shifted back. It was a painful, terrifying process but eventually the Favored would return to their mortal forms once more. Malvira thought she’d escaped.
But the Archon had one final curse. A spiteful curse on this land and those who defied him, the Archon uttered it with its final breath and a torrent of Light was unleashed on the world. For there to be harmony, Light and Darkness must be in balance and now that Light was let back into the world, Malvira knew the Darkness inside her was needed as well. She gave herself over to the Dark and she faded along with the Archon, the darkness pouring out of her to neutralize the Archon’s curse.
Legends: Any legends or stories about your character prior to being reincarnated. Combat Affinities:
Jiu jitsu
Ninjutsu
Judo
Kendo
Kyudo
Naginata-do
Magic Affinities: Shadow Magic: Conjuring weapons, Physical augmentation (self and objects), and movement enhancement. Extra:
Plight of the Martyr: A fractal of your past life that you carried with you. Holds your status points for combat in the future. Stamina: 4 Strength: 4 Dexterity: 8 Intellect: 3 Faith : 1
Everything in the current life section checks out, so that's ✔ The old life bio and worldbuilding are ✔ I'll make sure to integrate some of that into the story. When it comes down to the combat stuff I'd say maybe give some descriptions on "how they fight" rather than just listing the styles that they've gathered under their belt. - Instead of saying kendo / ninjutsu / jiu jitsu, perhaps a small paragraph on how they utilize those teaching in combat. - Same thing with the shadow magic classifications, even just a single paragraph of what that looks like would be super helpful. Revenant Profile also ✔ just cut the description of what the gem's definition is and you're golden.
Of course this is still a WIP so I look forward to seeing the finished project.
Old Life:25 years old * Female * 8/30/3120 New Life:16 years old * Female * 9/9/2009
Physical Description:
APB:
Gender: female
Stage: adult
Eyes: purple
Hair: platinum blonde
Skin: light pigmentation
Build: athletic
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 200 lbs
Physical Description: The curve of her brow, the candor of her eyes, and the up-tilt of her chin mark her as a woman of strength. The confidence in her stride clears a path through any crowd before her. Tall, powerful, and graceful as a dancer, she is the very image of a queen. Her booming voice carries for miles. Her preferred attire is a vibrant red battle-gown, designed to be so highly visible that friend and foe alike can see her when the curve of the earth permits. Atop her head rests the Draken Crown, an ancient piece adorned with the gold-plated tips of two real wyvern horns and a Dragon Eye gem in between.
Personality & Biography: Casca was the charismatic leader of the Dragan Kingdom, and a living legend among the people for her successful conquest of the known world. Some have described her as a force of nature, an especially apt moniker given her magical abilities and tenacious temperament. She was not, however, an effective ruler, a failing she was keenly aware of as she used rallies and speeches to hide her inadequacies from the public. Surrounded by incapable advisors and faced with growing poverty in the nation, Casca took the gamble of a lifetime: to seek out the Elixir of Immortality, so that she would have a legacy worth remembering, and so that she would have the time to learn and become a better leader for her people.
Together with her thirteen knights, Casca set out her quest. According to legend, the elixir lay sealed within a Black Tower situated in the heart of the frozen north. Unbeknownst to them, the Ancients who constructed the tower still watched over it, counting down the days until the Ascendants would come to purge corruption from the world. When the Empress and her knights discovered the elixir at the apex and drank thereof, their fates were sealed.
It wasn't long before Erudessa, the Immortal assigned to the governance of this world, tracked her down and ended her reign at the end of the Duskblade, the only weapon able to slay an immortal. As she lay bleeding out on the floor of her palace, trembling as a mortal chill seeped through her, Casca pleaded with Deus to give her another chance.
As her world turned to gray and her tears dried upon her cheeks, she received an answer before the last breath faded from her lips:
One.
Legends:
Mark Reggie stood at the doorstep of his house, briefcase in hand, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's good to be home."
No sooner had he opened the door than three children piled into his arms. "Daddy! Daddydaddydaddy-" See, now this is why coming home is the best part of the day. He kissed each one of them on the forehead to the tune of delighted squeals. A moment later, they all scampered off to resume playing a rousing game of Mechs & Militia.
His wife came downstairs and folded her arms. "Did I just catch you kissing other people?" "Mhm, real lovely ones too." "That's true. Not like I'm jealous or anything, baka!" "If I kiss you, will you quit teasing me with historical references I don't get?" She giggled. "Historical? That's a first. It's an anime reference." "An ani-what?" "It's an Old World thing. Kisses first, explanations later."
As the two of them prepared the evening meal together, Mark said, "So I learned something about our family history today." "At work? For work-related matters?" "Surprisingly, yes. As part of my research into the Imperial Era, I found records of people bearing the Reggie name. Turns out it's related to the name Raege. Ring any bells?" "Wasn't there a queen or something by that name?" "Exactly. Casca del Raege, the last Empress of the Dragan Empire. We're blood-related by her sister's line." "I'm so sorry." "Haha! Well, I'm not. It's really fascinating. She conquered the world when she was just 16, but the long war, combined with her expensive social programs, incurred so much debt that the whole country's economic system collapsed with her death. She went a little crazy toward the end of her reign, seeking out some 'Elixir of Immortality' in Northaven Tower." "The Northaven Tower? The space defense installation?" "The one and only. They called it the Black Tower back then." "Pfft, that's hilarious! She seriously thought she'd find immortality in there? Good gawd, she must have been nuts." "No kidding. Dragged all thirteen of her knights into it too. It apparently got her killed when she got back to the palace." "History is full of strange people, isn't it?" "It certainly is, honey. It certainly is."
To my dearest Kiel,
I finally got my hands on that blasted tablet! Remember how I said the elves have been hoarding Ancient relics, such as the Ancient Tablet? Well, I did some...negotiations, and managed to acquire the tablet. I'm told they found it near the central Black Tower, which doesn't surprise me, given its origins. It's a strange little thing, made of what is best described as boneskin, that produces an illuminating image when touched. I'd call it magic, but one enterprising mage managed to restore its powers with a makeshift electric plug, so it's probably more like incomprehensible technology (as usual). Absolutely fascinating.
But I digress. We couldn't access the information stored within for the longest time, until I noticed a bit of text. I happen to know a little of the Ancient tongue, and I thought it was asking for a "password." So I called up the Imperial codebreakers to have a go at it. It turned out to be the right decision, because they managed to guess the unlocking sequence after a few tries.
I've been reading through the thing in my spare time, and I found something very disturbing: our records of the Void War are woefully incomplete. Some time after civilization began on our world, seven Gates opened up around the continent, and from them billions of Void warriors poured forth. Yes, you read that right - billions. All the combined might of the Imperial Army could barely defeat just one of them. The Ancients battled them on equal terms, from what I gathered, with a combination of infantry, war golems (mechs, they called them) with drivers inside, and vessels in the sky that would dwarf any seagoing ship.
The Ancients nearly lost that war.
Kiel, I'm scared it will happen again. I've seen the dormant Gate under Drakengard Palace. I can feel its wretched powers flowing through it again. When I'm near it, I struggle more to contain my flames than before, and it's started to glow a little. World leaders think the Gates are merely a source of mana. They don't understand! The world is in apocalyptic peril, and they're just...sitting on the threat, like it's some kind of throne! We have to do something. Each one of those Gates lies underneath a country's palace, so we'd probably have to conquer the whole world in order to shut them down ourselves!
I don't know, Kiel. I'm only the thirteenth in line to the throne. There are twelve siblings ahead of me and fourteen siblings behind me who are all much more capable kings and queens than I am. I keep falling asleep in economics class. Nobody will believe me. I'm tempted to just let the next king take care of it, but I think Wesley would sooner laugh at me than take my warning seriously.
Please write to me, Kiel. I need your guidance. And a hug. And maybe a kiss while you're at it. You know what? Just come see me. I'll have the royal chefs make us some pound cake with strawberries and frosting. Ride safely.
Love, ~Casca
Combat Affinities: Axes, and polearms in general, are her strong suite. Her personal weapon is Ruin, a flaming rocket-axe. With it, she is nearly unstoppable on the battlefield. Armed with just a regular battle axe, she can smack a fully armored man to the floor or tear through a tree in one swing. With Ruin...the room might not be big enough, and steel not strong ehough. While she is not the most talented axefighter in the world, she is the strongest, bar none. Unarmed Combat, namely boxing. She's not terribly good at it, but she'll win a street fight. She has an untapped talent for it.
"If you should flee, do not let the Empress see your back, for you shall behold it with her when Ruin finds your neck."
Magic Affinities: Fire Fire: "Did you think that because your life cannot spark a change alone, that nothing can be changed at all? Life is like a tinder. It does not burn long, and it does not burn hot. But it burns, and that is enough to start such a fire as shall burn all night. Do not abandon the future because you are not the kindling or the fuel."
House Raege is a family of pyromancers, and Casca is the pride and joy of their lineage. She can wreath herself in sacred flame and walk barefoot on an open fire without incurring any harm. It is said to be a blessing from Deus upon her household, and as such ought to be used only to smite evil and slay the wicked. Casca mainly uses it for intimidation purposes, and the number of lambs she's cooked with it is...not zero...
Christina Kennedy looks much like she did in her previous life - tall, powerful, and regal. Even at 16 years of age, she towers over most of her peers, both in stature and drive, and the confidence in her step still etches her path to the future.
Personality & Biography: Christina has not changed much since her reincarnation. Born into the Kennedy political dynasty, she was poised to live a life of luxury, trained to foster connections with powerful figures until her eventual induction into elite society. But at six years of age, she had an encounter that changed her life forever. One day, she escaped the family mansion into the city, and there met a Disciple of Deus. The love shared by him and his family made an impression on her, and she yearned to find a life like that for herself. But when the Kennedys learned of this, they were incensed, and abused their connections to destroy the Disciple and his family. At first, Christina thought their destruction was mere coincidence, but as friend after friend disappeared from her life over the years, she became suspicious, and started looking more closely at her family's dealings.
What she found horrified her. The Kennedys had their tendrils in all levels of government, and she discovered that they'd destroyed hundreds, perhaps thousands, of innocent lives, some of whom she once knew personally. Determined to exact vengeance for the injustice inflicted upon her friends, Christina enacted a plot to distance herself from her family. The Kennedys would not let her go easily, so she had to make them want to separate her. She began a campaign of embarrassing them at public events, performing poorly in her studies, committing misdemeanors, and generally making a nuisance of herself until, when she turned 16, she became eligible to transfer to Kurtzpel Academy. The Kennedys jumped at the chance to move her away from the public eye.
Once at the academy, Christina enrolled in legal studies and martial arts, along with the usual array of high school subjects. She would have her vengeance upon her family someday in the court of law, and this was just the first step.
Talents: Public speaking, martial arts Academic Affinity: criminal law
Physical Description : Jack is tall with a lean build, which could even be considered lanky at times, with blond shaggy hair that often covered one of his bright baby blue eyes in an aloof manner. He has very thin eyebrows, which are already hard to see with his hair color. His eyes seem relaxed, and that of an old wise man. His lips are rather thin and always seem to form an awkward smile, as if he's happy all the time. The rest of his features are sharp and chiseled, giving him a rather graceful appearance. Personality Description : A benevolent, sharp, young man with a chip on his shoulder. He's confident in his ability, yet unsure of the people around him. Often times, he underestimates his friends but never his enemies. He's paranoid at times, causing him to put up a barrier to people that rub him off the wrong way. He can be very driven and dedicated when he takes something seriously. Otherwise, he tries to live life carefree when he can. He's a selfless, well-rounded person, which makes him an ideal student at the academy. Bio Description : Hailing from Cardiff, Wales, Jack moved all around the U.K. when he was young. From the large booming fields of Scotland, to the tight bustling cities of England, and the grand mountains of Ireland, Jack moved all over the place. Eventually, he settled in Liverpool, England for a few years. His manner of speaking seemed to develop quite exponentially and he was rather outspoken as a child. On top of that, he took a great interest in sword fighting, but more specifically fencing. As he moved around, he joined local minor leagues for his age, competing against other kids. He became fiercely good at fencing, but never stayed in one place long enough to prove it. On top of this, he was getting increasingly good at boxing in his free time.... WIP Talents : Swordfighting, hunting, fishing. Academic Affinity : Theoretical Historiography Extra : TBD
Physical Description : A stoic faced ancient with a body built like stone. His tall lanky body was scarred from battle after battle. His hair was a faded blond, which looked like it had been grown out for a while but maybe whitened from stress. His eyes were dark in color, but never seemed to settle on a color. He was defined in muscle, with a more structured jawline. His outfits usually consisted of a cloak above a set of finely crafted armor. Bio Description : An eternal adventurer who had roamed most of his known life. Heroic deeds were part of his daily routine, yet his righteous acts slipped right under the radar and went without notice many times. Going as far back as the first kings, he had never sought out fame and glory. Our hero's story was a rather unremarkable one in history, yet some truly know the man behind the many names.
When he was first awake, the world was rather dull. The world was full of beauty in nature, but the simple animals did not pay him any attention. He was seen as a predator, thus he was avoided by most. After enough wandering, it seemed as if the first tribes of man were sprouting. He finally had found someone that looked like him. He had learned to hunt and to fish, and in return had taught them how to grow and how to sew. One fateful day, another tribe had come across his own. It's easy to think of this moment to be the first time weapons were used not on an animal, but on man himself. In efforts to protect his own, the hero protected his peoples in the only way he knew how. It came to him as instinct, but to his own, it was monstrous. It was also at this point animosity was felt towards man for the first time. At this point, he had become an outcast and he was leftto roam once again.
When the first villages started to erect, the Hero had thought to earn man's trust back by protecting them from harm. From time to time, creatures of the woods had come out to challenge man, and the Hero had thwarted their plans. If the creatures weren't enough, men of fortune and of evil seed sought out man's riches. The Hero struck them down, and the town never truly knew any different. The Hero didn't care. It was for the greater good, and the greater good insisted that every man has the right to live freely. This started our Hero's quest to protect mankind, and our hero's quest to save whoever needed saving, wherever in the world they were.
In time, villages began to sprout up into kingdoms. In kingdoms, knights were born. Taking the opportunity, our Hero took on the mantle of being a knight and served the people, refusing to take sides of any king. Although he was never recognized and never held land, he was still viewed by many as a knight due to the getup. With armor covering his whole body and a stallion as white as snow, he rode his way into chivalry and honored man well. It would take a fateful day to discourage his knightly garb, and that day would cause him to lose quite a lot of faith in mankind.
As our hero one day awoke from his humble abode, he coughed up a nasty, terrible cough. His vision was clouded and his eyes felt dry and burning. He grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around his body, holding it around his face as he tried to navigate his way outside. He slammed himself through the front door and looked back to his home in horror. The home was burning down to a pile of ashes, and his horse nowhere to be found. He looked down at his ash covered body and realized he was left with nothing but the clothes he went to bed in. Our Hero did the only thing he knew to do. He wandered.... WIP Legends : Any legends or stories about your character prior to being reincarnated. Combat Affinities : Strong suits of physical combat. Styles, martial arts, but no actual chuunibyou finisher moves? Magic Affinities : N/A Extra : TBD Name of Gem : A fractal of your past life that you carried with you. Holds your twenty status points for combat in the future. Stamina : How sturdy is your body? Strength : How macho are you? Dexterity : How nimble is your body? Intellect : How wise are you? Faith : How faithful are you to God, or the previous gods of your old world?
I'm kinda interested, but before I make a CS, I have two questions: 1. What's with the Stats in the Revenant Profile? Does that mean there will be some sort of dice-rolling involved? 2. What does "Action Romp" mean?
@Amaranthine 1. There won’t be dice for for typical combat, maybe some player scuffles down the line could be resolved that way. But as it stands the stats are more of a numeric measurement of your current level in each category. Having 10 Strength makes you a relatively strong teenager that lift weights with some effort, having 100 makes you a muscle god who could punch holes in mountains.
2. Action Romp is just a less gritty and more lighthearted action telling. As the RP will definitely not take a serious tone at the start of the story it fits pretty well.
@Versa Ah, that answers one of my questions about the revenant profile. May I make a suggestion about it? Given that the gem appears to be a magical item of some sort, I expected it to offer supernatural abilities to its holder. As such, I propose the following systems:
Give the numbers more meaning and Oomph.
0: Below average (weak) 1: Average (normal person) 2: Above average (healthy, regular exercise, good genes, the calm one in the family) 3: Uncommon (professional athlete, respected thinker) 4: Unique (Albert Einstein, Michael Phelps, Martin Luther) 5: Super (Spider-Man, Batman, Captain America, Iron Man) 6: Super Duper/Magical (Flash, Thor, Todoroki, Bakugo) 7: Nearly invincible (Superman, All Might, Deadpool) 8: Walking nuke (Goku, Light Yagami) 9: Overpowered (Saitama) 10: Isekai protagonist (Kirito)
Instead of numbers, abstract it to simplify things.
