[CHAR] The Forests of Death (Dead)

[EWillden]

Name: Ishmael Peliaros
Race: Human
Age: 36
Class: Paladin
Description: He stands at a hieght of 6'5" and weighs 210 pounds. His weight mostly in muscle. He has long blonde hair and blue eyes. He weres a white tunic and white trousers. Each marked with the holy symbol of Corellan Lorethian. His boots and cape matching them.

Biography: At the age of eight years old, he was chosen. Barely able to process what the real world was outside of his home. His parents fearful of what would come of him if he stayed in the villiage they had lived in. Not wanting him to have a life of crime like most of the boys they let the order take him when they came to enlist people into it. They said they saw great promise in the boy. In those years growing up in the order he learned everything that it stood for. It stood for the innocent, the pure, the righteousness of all life on this planet. He was put through tough times. Trials he thought would be the death of him. Each time he overcomer those trials he became closer and more one with the Great Pegasus. His armor forged from the sweat of a elf and branded with the holy symbol of the order. At the age twenty five his training was over. Well the toughest parts where. Now the next step was to face the world and use what he had been taught. Corellan still had trials for him, moments of learning and he braced for them. He was ready. He knew he was.

When he turned thirty five he was already well known in the city of Shar'es. He was gifted with his own steed and the holy weapons to combat the enemy with when they came to face him.

Skills: balance, handle animal, ride, divine knowledge, tracking, intimidate, diplomacy, bluff, and heal.

Spelllike Abilities:
Holy Bolt- With a command of his voice he can hurl a bolt of pure holy energy towards his target. This attack does bonus damage against demons and undead.

Banish- This spell is used to banish demons

Magic Circle of Protection - While in the circle all damage and attacks from the undead or evil in general is halved.

Bless- Blesses the targeted weapon with the light of Corellan Larethian. This gives the weapon a boost in sharpness and power.

Bull's Strength - Increases his strength

Bear's Endurance - Increases Endurance

Lay on Hands - Heals the wounds of a person or himself

Greater Lay on Hands - Heals all allies within a twenty foot radius

Equipment: Holy Greatsword, Holy Fullplate (minus helmet), and Holy water.
His horse is a white horse built with strong legs and muscles and has its own blessed armor.

[Afina]

Name: Ramara Rawn
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Age: 27
Height: 5' 5"
Weight: 115 lbs
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Hair color, texture, length, style: Golden blonde with ash streaks,silky texture that is worn simply half way down her bacl

Eye look, shape & color: Pearl blue eyes with Amber flakes. Round eyes that slant slightly at the litter edge

Skin Tone: Tanned with peach undertones.

Body Type: Thin toned body over all with very powerful legs muscles.

Voice/Accent: Her voice has a tad deeper intonation than most women and is slightly raspy.

Clothing: Forest green wrapped leggings, bodice and sleeves are covered with rich tanned leather thigh boots, corset and shoulder guards.

Armor: None

Weapons: Two long bladed daggers are worn at her waist, two thin bladed short swords are worn crossed over her back, multiple silver throwing daggers are secured in her belt, on her thighs and tucked in her boots. Poisoned darts are secured to a release hidden in her forearm guards that can be fired for distance if needed.

Spells: None

Natural Abilities: Agile, acrobatics, gymnastics, ambidextrous

Skilled: Ramara is a skilled assassin; knife thrower, swordsman, close combat fighting, grappling, take down techniques, pressure points, stealth, lock picking, tracking, find traps and hidden passages. Plays the Vielle, a skill she learned growing up.

Personality: Quiet most of the time but can be loud and is rather untrusting, hard to get close to. She prefers to be left alone and detests asking for help. A very stubborn woman who prefers to do things alone than in a group. She can be quite volatile if provoked and tends to be a bit moody. Even more so than her older sister Sana Rawn and does not have as kind of a heart.

History: She comes from the Rawn Troop of Gypsys and is the younger sibling of Sana Rawn. She always admired her older sister Sana and when she saw Sana leave she decided when she came of age she would do the same. Over the last years she has honed her skills and searched for her sister but to no avail.

[EWillden]

Name: Nova Lysanthir
Race: Elf
Age: 400
Class: Battlemage

Description: Nova stands at five foot six and weighs only a hundred twenty pounds. She has been seen wearing a white dress ,but rare so. She mostly wears a dark leather suit with her white boots and gloves. Her white breastplate centered on a-cup breasts. With her pauldron only slightly protecting her pelvic region. Her long pink hair is wild and untamed and her eyes are red.

Biography: Nova is the first and oldest of two daughters under Ellisar and Maylin Lysanthir. Her strong will has pushed her into the field of the witch hunter. She find herself more at use finding the evils that hide within their borders then sitting at a chair all day. She felt it was better this way. Much better indeed. However, because of her family she has become a target for most. After five attempts to take her, killing the would be captures, she thought they would give up. She was wrong.

Skills: Ride, Handle Animal, Balance, Swimming, Acrobatics, and knowledge of the arcane and divine.

Spell Like Abilities:
Fire Arrow- With a command and a thrust of her fist or hand she sends a bolt of flames towards the target resembling a arrow
Fire Bolt- Launches a weak ball of fire at the target.
Fire Ball- Launches a fire ball that has a aoe effect damaging those close enough to the impact of target.
Fire Breath- Gives he the ability to breathe fire like that of a Red Dragon.
Firestorm- This spell throws multiple fire balls at a target.
Flame swords- Summons a pair of swords created from fire into her hands. She can choose to only have one if she desires. The swords cut like a normal weapon would only they do a additional damage with fire.

Equipment: Side from the armor and clothing described above. Nothing

[Salrynn]

Name: Inyata Fierro

Race: Half human half Elf

Age: 19

Class: Pirate

Description:

Inyata Fierro

She wears a typical female’s pirates dress which is purple and turquoise , adorned with lace patterns near the bust area, under her bust she is wearing an under corset which is leather, going over it with a striped ragged material along with a belt, for the skirt the turquoise colour comes into play and is cut and sewn onto the upper half of the skirt, with a turquoise skirt going underneath the dress. all complete with fishnet tights, pirate boots and her very own pirate hat which has a red ribbon adorned on it..

As in appearance she has fair skin with blue eyes, her ears are greyish blue, with red outlining her lips and freckles decorating her cheeks lightly. Her raven black hair nearing her bottom, being the typical pirate female she also wears a pearl necklace which she has possibly stolen during her expeditions and a hooped earring each on both of her ears.

Biography:

Inyata was your typical female pirate… childish, fun and hyper, when she joined the pirate ship she was orphaned by two rogue pirates, one which was the captain's daughter.

During these 19 years the captain who she called grandfather has taught her everything a normal everyday pirate would do… which was stealing, invading, fighting and them top-notch bad pirate-like tunes, but she was spoiled; Inyata even was given a special jewel by her grandfather which was told to keep safe, this annoyed quite a few male members of her crew who wanted that jewel badly. But then one day something drastic happened… Her ship was invaded, not by other pirates though. It was invaded by an evil band of necromancers who wanted to capture Inyata for some strange reason, she did manage to hide but she witnessed all her shipmates dying… In a bid for help she managed to wait until the ship had anchored in a town and snuck out immediately in bids to find help, not that she really wanted to due to trust issues.

Skills:

Stealing
Singing (Pirate rhymes, ya know?)
Lute-playing
Climbing
Beer-making
Team-player
Operating/commanding a ship
Trickery
Swimming
Pirate-like invasions

Magic:
(NOT APPLICABLE)

Equipment:

One Cutlass
One shortsword
Spare fishnet tights to strangle others

[Goldeagle1221]

Derrix “Nightbane” Herchiv

Derrix “Nightbane” Herchiv

Early thirties

Derrix is an extremely tall ‘human’ man, standing at six foot eight and bearing broad shoulders that shelf the body of a well trained soldier. His visage holds two golden eyes that pierce his gaze below a head of short black hair. His cheeks are lean and show a strong jaw, but also more interestingly the hold each a bull’s horn tattoo pointing up. His entire body from the top of his head to the soles of his feet are spiderwebbed with red and pale scars that spiral, twist, and carved their way all around him, with no exception, and including his face.

The clothes of a city man covers his torso and legs, wearing simple soft cotton tunics of blues and whites and dark rough trousers over leather boots. Not a weapon adorns his black belt. In the stables he keeps his white horse of enormous size, on scale with his own giant’s stature.

Derrix spends his time hidden away, writing countless pages of ink or charcoal. He usually is carrying a spare piece of paper and writing utensil: Those who commonly see the quiet man assume he is a poet, and a poet he will tell them should they ask.

Secrets

A locked chest of foreign make and words conceal a sword and strange winged armor, along with a cape. In the pitch black of night, you will notice a soft white aura glow from his body, as if turning the darkness itself. Should he brandish a weapon, it will flash and glow a bright white, and should he charge, he shall do the same.

[Warrior in the Shadows]

Name: Wade
Race: Human
Age: 30
Class: Fighter
Description:
He stands at 5'8" and is more athletically built, if not for his slight beer belly. Otherwise the rest of him is well muscled. When not in his armor(the stuff he is wearing in the picture), he'll be wearing brown pants, with an earthen blue tunic(very much looking like a hoody), black leather boots, and a belt. Under that he wears a white linen shirt and small black shorts as undergarments.

Biography: He was born to a peasant family in a small plot of land owned by a simple lord. He had a normal peasant life for most of his teen years, until he was whisked away as a man-at-arms for a sudden war that no one really cared for except the lord, whom might lose his plot of land. Wade had grown up a very sheltered and inexperienced boy, not really keen to how the world worked or how brutal it could be. It wasn't long before they brutalized him into becoming a hardened man-at-arms, being an infantry man made him favor walking over horse back riding. As such, he doesn't ride, he runs.

Eventually Wade started taking up many different habits, all very distasteful, but all in the name of staying awake and alert or just being at ease. He was keen to smoke many different natural growing substances, such as marijuana and tobacco, never taking things that creatures created for the specific purpose of getting inebriated. Of course, he still drinks alcohol.

He's lost many friends over the years and been very bitter over it. He has taken a good share of beatings and wounds. His body is scarred and burned. If it were to be said, he has taken more mental wounds than anything else, having seen so much death since his early adulthood years. He's been part of genocides of people groups, mass slaughters. He's killed women and children. He was part of the purge of the savages, back in his early twenties. He remembers well the deaths of several different families during the purge, one in particular was at his hand alone.

After he made sergeant-at-arms, he was given a small plot of land. He left it in the care of his family, elevating their status, and taking himself off to adventuring. He hoped to one day bring many spoils home to them and retire from this life.

Skills:
He's excellent with bladed weapons, going for a standard loadout of a short sword and a round buckler. He's as proficient with a crossbow as anyone else. Normally you'll find him using anything as a weapon. Often he'll take damage, but because of his brashness, he tends to scare the more inexperienced attackers.

Equipment: He carries a shortsword, a round buckler shield, and a light crossbow. He doesn't carry very many bolts for the crossbow. He has his armor, plate, and a rucksack, filled with the assortment of necessities for travel. He also has a pipe with tobacco and another more powerful leaf(which he has a good amount of).

[Afina]

Name: Regalia Montoya

Age: 47

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Personality: Regalia is an older woman and with age comes patience, to a point. Her outward demeanor is calm and collected, much more proper in her speech than one of her background would one would think. She is ever calculating in both her words and her movements, always weighing all the possible options before her before she acts or speaks. Though time has taught her that sometimes all the patience in the world cannot accomplish things and has been known to turn completely in her demeanor at a moment notice to get the job at hand done. Not surprisingly these outbursts have cause new issues to arrive but in the end they get the job done and her point across. Regalia will fight for how ever can afford her skills and will do as she must to fulfill her contractual obligations. Her word is her bond as long as those she is signed too do the same. When not under contract she will do what she needs to survive as best she can and has a tendency to push herself into situations that have nothing to do with her if she feels that some injustice is being dealt.

Religion: None. Being born and raised on the high seas one would think that she would have a head full of superstitions but she has found little use for them over the course of her lifetime. Seeing the damage and divide that various religions have caused, she has chosen to remain neutral when it comes to these manners. She has never been able to grasp the need to blame a God or Goddess for death or peace. Life is life and if she is going to go through life, she plans to do it on her own terms and not on the whispered answers to those who claim to speak for the powers that be.

Political Stance: Regalia has none, she feels not allegiance to any kingdom. Alliances can change at the drop of the hat or at the flip of a coin. She is from the sea, ever changing, and acts like the sea. She wanders through her life as the winds direct her. Sometimes the times are rough and brutal; at others they are clam and make your marvel at your surroundings. In her life, she has only ever sworn her allegiance to one and it was not for God or Country, it was for ideals. That was long ago though and now the only allegiance she has it to the coin until she finds a cause worthy of her attention.

Magics: None

Appearance: Regalia is an older woman, though not the less stunning; standing 5 foot 7 inches tall without her boots, with an athletic build. Long raven hair falls from a side part on the crown of her head, it speckled with grey and white strands that bring out her cobalt eyes. Though she has long left the sea behind, she still dresses as she would when she was a captain. Somethings never change. She has sharp features but time and age have softened her over all appearance. She speaks in a soft yet commanding voice, never wanting to be mistaken as an easy target. She is too old for such trivial games.


Dragon and Gun, not included, accessories sold separately.

Possessions: The Schiavona that she carries was her fathers, beautiful as it is deadly, crafted by her grandfather long before she was born. A well crafted blade, it moves quickly through the air when swung and never let Regalia down. On her person, she has a small satchel attached to her belt that holds her papers of identification, her title as Wizard, some money for day to day expenses and letters of recommendation from various people of nobility she has worked for over the years. When traveling, she rides an Ebony stallion that has been with her for years and knows how to deal with her riding style. The saddle bags hold changes of clothing, dried foods, skins of water and wine, grooming and cleaning materials as well as a few odds and ends like parchment, coal, wax and her seal. Tied to the back of the saddle rests her sleeping items and a small canvas tent she can set up if the rains hit.

Skills/Abilities: Being raised on the sea she knows all there is to know about running a ship, having captained The Maelstrom for nearly a decade before she retired. A Pirate at heart, she is a true swashbuckler, a skilled swimmer and diver. She knows how to raise the sails, control the crew and has a vast knowledge of knots. (What else is a girl do to when out at sea for months on end.) She has commanded fleets at sea and is a walking encyclopedia of Sea Warfare. A skilled fencer, one of the few to obtain the title of Wizard, she is deadly and quick with her Schiavona, following in her families footsteps. The fact that she is ambidextrous doesn’t hurt.

Though she is not a Corsair anymore, she has taken the last decade coming to grips with her land legs and has spent that time training in various fighting form. Having had to learn to brawl at the high seas, she is knowledgeable in close quarter hand to hand combat and knife throwing, but that is not enough to the lands. Over the years she has worked on keeping her footing both on deck and off, slowly transitioning to being a woman of solid terrain but has never lost her abilities to fight during even the roughest of storms the seas can bring.

Having to rely now on a steed instead of her ship to get around, much of her first years on land were spent becoming skilled with riding and fighting on horseback as well as wilderness survival and land military tactics. Her skills have been utilized by many an army and her ability to think differently than most who are in such positions, due to her upbringing and gender, she has proven time and time again to be a valuable asset.

Having seen and participated in so much over the course of her life and remaining in no one place for too long, she has become well versed in the art of diplomacy and tact, never using her female wiles to accomplish the job. She prefers tactics where she does not have to worry about some young fledgling subterfuging.

History: Regalia was born on the high seas to the Captain and one of his flings, aboard The Maelstrom. During a hurricane while she was young her mother was tossed overboard, never to be retrieved. Her father was anything but the parental type, especially to a daughter. He had no idea how to raise her and was tempted for a time to leave her at the first orphanage he could find at the next port.

Packing her bags he was about to lead her off the deck when she picked up his Schiavona to hand to him and began to play around like children do. He found it amusing and yet it was time to go, reaching for the Schiavona she quickly side stepped him and switch hands with the blade, swinging it around with equal skill in her other. This intrigued him, seeing something in her for the first time that reminded him of himself. The decision had been made and he would raise her.

Over the years he trained her as any apprentice, never giving her any breaks due to her blood or gender. In fact he pushed her so much harder than what was needed, fearing that she would be at a disadvantage. She proved him wrong and the day when she was presented to his Fencing Master for testing she received the rank of Wizard. As she received the title she remembers looking at her father and for the first time in her life, she saw pride. From that moment on her life was set; she would take over for him when he passed.

The next few years were spent teaching her everything he knew about the seas and The Maelstrom. The crew, having known her since she was small, was ever faithful to her and her father. She was the daughter so many of them never had and did all they could to make sure she was ready when the day came. It came peacefully one night when out on calm waters. Entering the captains’ room, she dropped the tray of food she had brought him for dinner when she saw him hunched over his desk atop of his maps. Finding he had passed away, she kissed his brow and had him buried at sea. She was now the Captain of The Maelstrom.

Life was good on the High Seas, even finding love in her first mate Tseng but it was not to last. During a battle in one of the many unnamed wars for God and Country, he fell to cannon fire as it ripped through the main deck. In one fell swoop, she lost her ship, her love and her home. Swimming to shore she decided that unless mountains were moved, she would not step back on the deck of a ship. She hasn’t since.

Since that fateful day she has wandered the lands, selling her skills and knowledge to whomever she felt was worthy or, in desperate times, whoever paid the best.

[Inertia]

Josef Raulyn

Name: Josef Raulyn

Age: 18

Race: Human

Job: Cleric

Description:

Josef

Neutral Good,

Josef is toned, not to a great extent, but could be deemed above average. He focuses on his healing, but is a capable combatant, wielding his one handed warhammer on his right hand.

He dons robes, white ones to be exact with chainmaill laced underneath. While this does not absorb alot of damage, it does save him from a few deadly attacks. His warhammer is blessed by the light, increasing the damage it would normally do. He is trained in using his warhammer, two handed or one handed, he can hold off enemies by himself, but he is young and relatively inexperienced. He also has a penchant for reading.

Biography:
When he was young, he was separated from his father, Adrian Raulyn. The separation happened when his house was infiltrated when two assassins had entered their homes, with the intention of murdering Josef and his parents at the death of night, and had it not for his father's intervention, Josef might have been killed that day. His father instructed his mother to leave and take Josef with her to be safe. Through tearful eyes and clashing of swords, Josef's mother, Katerina Raulyn fled the scene.

They traveled far, not hearing from his father. Josef never knew that his father was being chased by Assassins from an organzation unknown, and he grew to slightly despise his absent father. A disease suddenly struck the area they were living in, and his mother, Katarina was struck by said disease. Josef tried his best to raise money, at first it was honest jobs- but he soon figured out that that itself would not be enough and he soon resorted through unlawful means. He pick-pocketed and stole, bread, medicine, coin, anything to help out his dying mother.

It was one day when he was pick-pocketing a robbed individual, Josef thought that she would have more money than normal. Sneaking up to her, he was abruptly caught by the hand. Fear struck Josef and he hastily began apologizing, saying that he needed it for his mothers health. The individual, who didn't wear any displeased smiles, simply told Josef to lead him to her. Running back to her mother, the robed individual, revealed to be a Cleric tried her best to cure his mother, but it was far too late. Josef's mother died then and there, and he was all alone again. Though he tried to stay stoic, he broke down crying right there.

The Cleric, Rosalina Montier, took pity upon the young kid and decided to take him in. She taught him the way of the Cleric, how they are supposed to be in the light and help all those who are in need. For some peculiar reason, Josef had a natural aptitude- a talent for the arts. He absorbed the lessons taught to him, and even his Mentor was surprised at his pace. He was soon promoted to a full-fledged member of the order.

Other:
Relative- Cousin of Artos Raulyn and son of Adrian Raulyn

[PlateFace]

Name: Beowulf Randale (Formerly known as Nick Randale, He renamed himself after he enacted the Ritural of the blue-moon which caused his permanant Transformation.)
Age: 20
Race: Lycanthrope
Class: Brawler (Hand to hand Combat.)

Skills

Beowulf Can transform into a Larger form of the Dire wolf, allowing people to ride on his back.
Beowulf Posses a power known as the Moon Phasing this power allows Beowulf to change the phase of moon he is aligned with and the various Bonuses with each of the phases. He can Only change Moon's when outside of combat due to the need to meditate. Each Cycle can only be used once except for The Crescent-moon cycle and the Gibbous-moon cycle. There is only one cycle that allows for an immediate change to another cycle with out meditation.

New-moon phase:This Phase Is Beowulf's weakest cycle, But allows For those in his wolf pack and those around him with blood of the wolf to go into a Blood lust.
Blood-lust: Beowulf goes into a near unstoppable blood-lust, ignoring all pain and danger, However after the blood-lust end's His moon cycle changes immediately to the first-quarter-moon cycle. Like all other unique skills he can only use this in New-moon Phase.

First Quarter-moon Phase: The First quarter-moon phase give Beowulf and those around him with Blood of the wolf a Boost to their Magical Powers and Magical strength.
Claw of starlight: Beowulf's Claws become imbued with the power of the stars and a as a result give off a magical energy allowing Beowulf to tear through some of the toughest foes and armour alike. Can only be used in the First Quarter-moon Phase.

Full-Moon Phase: The Full-moon Phase Allows Use of his strongest powers, and makes him stronger and more resilient to damage.
Howl: Beowulf begins to howl this Either calls his wolf pack or emboldens them with fury, making them strong and tougher. He can only Use this in the Full-Moon phase.

Third Quarter-moon Phase: This moon Phase Allows Beowulf To take more both Physical and Magical damage, This is a primarily defence based phase
Moon light coat: Beowulf imbues his fur and skin with the power of the moon, making his skin glow with energy, While in use any magic attacks that are physical (They affect his body not his mind or spirit) Are absorbed and go to regenerating his body healing his wounds or Recovering his stamina. Can only be used in third quarter phase

Waxing/waning Gibbous-moon phase: The Gibbous-moon phase is a Strengthening Phase and is one of the more useful phases.
Moon-light Howl: Beowulf howls imbuing magical energy from the moon to all wolves and Those with wolf blood to hear it causing them to become Frenzied. while In the Frenzied state they will become faster and stronger and feel no pain for the duration. Can only be used in the Gibbous phase and is less effective on the second use for that day.

Waxing/Waning Crescent-moon phase: The Crescent-moon phase is a regenerative phase that can be used Twice per day.
Second-wind: Beowulf Rapidly Heals all wounds in a short period of time as well as regenerates most of his stamina.

Equipment: Beowulf carries nothing with him.
Description:

Picture Of beowulf

Picture of his wolf Pack

Bio: Beowulf was born of the Randale Clan, Which were known to be powerful werewolves, Growing up Beowulf learnt the ancient technique of Moon-Phasing he learnt this technique very quickly and mastered it in a very short amount of time. His clan Was Then killed off by a band of Monster hunters, Known as the Odd-eyes for their ability to see monsters that hide in the form of humans, like werewolves. After the death of his family being the sole survivor, He committed a Ritual that cause a permanent transformation making him permanently in his monster form. Beowulf is a skilled fighter, and uses primarily his Claws and teeth to fight, Only occasionally using a weapon. He also leads a Pack of Dire wolves.(Like Normal Wolves Only Dire.)

[Masternipple]

Name: Tusk

Race:Half-ork

Age: 24

Class:Barbarian

Description: https://wrathofzombie.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/half-orc-2.jpg He is a 6'4 half orc with heavy thick black burn scars from his torso up weighs about 245

Biography: When he was just a child his mother had given him up to an orphanage unable to hide him away any longer nor live with the shame with being disgraced by his father and having a half-orc as a son. After he arrived at the only place that would accept him he fell in love with a high elf girl who unlike anybody else he had met before did not look at him as an ugly creature rather she thought he was strong she respected him and loved him in a way he had never thought possible for himself. (Her name is Ava) This orphanage became his home until he was fifteen when something terrible happened. A Small band of thugs disgusted by this house of tieflings and half breeds decided to burn it down. They set fire to all the entrances and slaughtered anyone trying to exit. Tusk was outside at the time miserable after being scorned by one of the caretakers for "playing too rough" with one of the orphans a problem he's always seemed to have but in the distance he saw the smoke. He came rushing toward the building hoping he could get there in time. When he arrived the men had left but Ava was under a pillar it had some how managed to not crush her but the flames were beginning to reach her. Tusk ran to her rescue and tried to lift the pillar off of her but to no avail. The flames reached her and she was aflame burning a slow death, and tusk as well he never gave in he stayed in the flames trying to pull, push, lift this piller off her his anger and strenght where not enough though. He stayed in the flames until she was long dead his hair and eyebrows scorched off (they grew back) and his torso up was forever burned to show the world his failure no matter how much time passed. He then began wondering looking for redemption, a purpose, anything to ease his pain.

Skills: Relentless endurance,heavy armor proficient, fast movement , Rage , Spirit of the bear resistance (activates with rage),

Equipment: cloak, plate armor (cloak is worn over it) Maul, heavy crossbow 50 bolts, necklace given to him by Ava (he is so damn big its a bracelet for him)

[EWillden]

Name: Gorgamesh The Crazed
Age: 38
Race: Orc
Description: Him:
His Axe:

He has large tusks, one of them chipped. And a large scar across his face. His armor covers more of his body then shown in the picture.

Biography: Gorgamesh was a orc in his prime, still is. He was the perfect image of what Gruumsh wants for his kin to be. Perhaps even too good for their tastes. He was such a murderous orc and a vile one at that. They called him the crazed one. One feature that made even the toughest of orcs nearly puke was that Gorgamesh would devour those he had killed. Yes devour, cooking them and eating them. He brought so much fear ,that the chief had him banished, afraid the Gorgamesh would some day dine on him one night. Gorgamesh was hurt by this and it effected his mentality a bit. He thought he did good for the tribe and they betrayed him by banishing him. He hated them for it, the whole lot of them he hated. He even turned from the great one eye as well. Gruumsh could have prevented this turning and voiced his opinion on the matter ,but no. He just sat there on his ass and let it happen. Gorgamesh never forgave him or his tribe for it. He devoured his kills because it was a moral breaker for the enemy or anyone who would wish to challenge him.

The first month in the wilds was tough for him but he managed to make the best of it. He used everything he got his hands on to survive. He even learned how to make traps and even made his own armor from bits and pieces of those who fell to his axe. His prey of choice was mostly outlawas and brigands. Fools to stupid to not try and and best a orc at his best or his worse. He added a notch to the shaft of his axe for each kill he made. The bottom half of the shaft was nearly fully notched. It made it clear that he had killed plenty in time.

He lived alone in the deep parts of the forest east of Shar'es and from there he survived. He only killed those who tried to fight him. If they left him alone he left them alone. Although when he saw outlaws or bandits. He gave no quarter. No one would care if a few assholes went missing. Eventually he confronted his tribe once more and slaughtered every last one including the chief. He then proceeded to eat the chief.
Eventually he made friends with a guardian of the forest. A rare site to be seen, the sight was of a nymph who lived in a lake. She was freinds to all and everyone if they deserved such. Both never though such a friendship would take hold. I mean she was a nymph who was good and he was a orc who was bad. However, hearing his story and how he made peace about it she felt pity for him. She gave him permision to hunt and eat in the forest, as long as it was in reason. Like killing to eat was one thing.... to kill for sport was another.

Demeanor/Attitude: Mostly calm ,but crazed. His attitude is kind of scary as he finds certain things others wouldn't rather soothing. However, he losses it if he sees another orc. Their betrayal never sit well with him. He likes elves though and pretty women. He finds their beauty soooo enchanting.

Other: He has with him carving tools for various jobs. Skinning, being one of them. He also had a tool for carving hard fruit or vegetibles. He also carries at his waste skulls. Skulls of his greatest foes and the ones he hated most. The orc chief of his tribe was one of those very skulls.

[Salt Me Senpai]

Name: Malachite
Race: Orc
Age: 22
Class: barbarian
Description: she is tall a muscular, her hair is very long, red, and moved all over to one side, she has broad hips, and a thigh gap. Her armor is made of bone and fur, covering her wrists, her ankles, and her neck, otherwise her lady bits are covered with a fur breast cover and a loincloth. Her tucks arent incredibly big, but they are larger then most females.
Biography: Since a young age she loved to bash things, her siblings, the bugs, animals, other orcs, anything she can hit she loved to test how hard she could hit it. As time went on, she got bored and left her tribe to find her own calling, thinking she was too strong for her tribe, and not wanting to be the next chiefs wife. She traveled most of the land near her home, and fought anything she could, killing other stronger enemies to increase her own battle skills, and to someday be strong enough to make her own tribe.
Skills: Orc rage, incredible strength.
Equipment: fur undergarments, and a massive chunk of iron, leather wrapped around one end as place of a handle, this was originally a stone club but after years of use it showed it was filled with iron. Otherwise, she has rations and dried meat in a leather sack, and a small cask of water, as well as a large fur cloak with to protect from extreme cold.