[CHAR] Rogues' Castle (High Fantasy, Sandboxish) - Apply!

[RyanTadashi]

Jeko the Knife

Name: Jeko “the Knife”

Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Age:
25

Profession:
Assassin
Gang:
The Bleeding Hearts

Picture/Description:
At first glance, one would think he is nothing but a normal, skinny kid – and in all reality, that's what he is. Nothing about Jeko would make somebody look at him a second time, and that's exactly how he likes it. Jeko is an average looking boy of average height. He has uncombed, jet black hair and a thin stubble darkening his chin. His face is plain enough, but there is more than just a hint of mischief behind his deep brown eyes. Jeko appears to be much young than he actually is, a mask of innocence over his underlying savvy.
Personality:
Jeko is an ambitious and curious young man. He sticks to the shadows, always listening, always scheming. He constantly tries to better himself, making connections and showing his worth to anybody that can help him climb the ladders of social status and wealth. He is confident in his abilities, smiling in the streets, for he knows that he will always be protected by the people he knows and his nightly activities.

Jeko Appearance

History:
Jeko's father left him when he was extremely young. Because of this absence, he never had any desire to keep his father's last name. His mother was a slave to her sticky weed addiction, too unwell to work. The only value Jeko represented to his mother was as a source of income. He was sent out onto the streets to slink around, gathering up whatever he could and selling it to one of the local fences. If he didn't learn to be constantly making money, he wouldn't have a place to live. Luckily, Jeko quickly adapted. He is naturally inclined to all activities that require dexterity, picking up survival skills quickly.

Once he arrived at rogues castle, Jeko immediately plugged himself into the strongest group, The Bleeding Hearts. He worked hard to prove his worth to the leader, Mordrag Desertheart. He skated through the castle, sticking to the shadows, hiding behind corners, the entire while gathering information. His stealth abilities were so strong that the Bleeding Hearts started tasking him with assassinations. His natural inclination towards this ended up filling his pockets and opening his schedule; he no longer needed to worry himself with small time spying.

Combat Proficiency:
Jeko is not one for close combat. He is a silent dagger in the night, striking and escaping before he is discovered. He has had to fight a bit during his life, so he is familiar with it, but it is definitely something he tries to avoid. Jeko keeps multiple knfies concealed around his body, always ready to strike first and dissapear.
Magical Abilities:
N/A
Skills:
Jeko is good with his hands, but he has never dedicated himself to learning anything productive apart from the criminal. He can pick locks, pick pockets, break and enter without leaving any evidence, and locate traps, anything that was necessary for him so survive in his morally ambiguous life.

Equipment:
Like his nickname, Jeko's preferred weapon is the knife. He has numerous knifes concealed around his body – in his boots and belt, strapped to his chest, in the crease of his back, and up his sleeves. He is very protective of his gold, hiding it like his weapons, not all in the same places. Other than his weapons and money, Jeko doesn't own very many possession, let alone carry it on his person.
Other:
Jeko's Reflections on The Rogues' Castle

Reflections on The Rogues' Castle – Jeko the Knife

Overview

“Thieves and murderers, monsters and vagabonds; they're all here. How I ended up here myself, I'm not certain, but this is a paradise for creatures normally forced into the shadows. It seems that you can't leave; you wouldn't need to anyway. There's a couple taverns, a foodhall, merchants, even a brothel. A good brothel mind you! This castle actually has a roaring economy. Apart from the conventional jobs, there are a fair few places to find your way with the few established gangs or groups. They keep all of the different people and each other in check. Pretty secure balance of power. The Bleeding Hearts, Cast Away Creed, The Bloodline, a few others; it looks like they pay a wage for their muscle, their ears, their silent hands in unsuspecting pockets. I've got the latter covered.

I'm not sure what's keeping people here. I hear that you try to make your way through the forest, but only end up back at the grounds. It's a beautiful castle – black brick, lots of plant life – but I'm not sure I like the thought of being trapped here. I'll have to make my way out there sometime soon. For now, I'm gonna talk to the leader of The Bleeding Hearts, big fella. See if I can make myself useful, get me some compensation.”

Jeko “The Knife”
Personal Journal
1530 Post Sundering

Utilities

“So I've joined up with The Bleeding Hearts. They've got me doing a ton of surveillance one some of the other gangs. Seems the balance of power is a bit more tense than I first thought. Well, at least I've got some spending money. Not enough for the brothel yet, but I'm eating regularly at the hall – pretty good food actually – and the Full Moon tavern serves up a fine enough lager. There's got to be wizards around somewhere, because a few of the skeevy little merchants that scuttle underfoot are selling some legitimate magical items. I've got my eye on this cloak that helps me blend into the shadows. Definitely don't want to get caught with my spying, especially by those pale freaks with the fangs in The Bloodline. Something not right about them.

Anyway, I found out where the food they serve is coming from. I was failing to impress one of the girls that works in Fairy Tale – the brothel – when I saw a group of people heading into the forest. I tailed them, only to find that they're poachers! They led me to this grove where I heard them talking to somebody... well something. Almost like the voice of the trees, the wind, nature itself. Whatever it was, it told these lads that the circle? was intact and the summoning? would continue. Bizarre. Long story short, I wasn't caught and they returned to the castle with a bear, two rabbits, and a score of decent sized birds.”

Jeko “The Knife”
Personal Journal
1530 Post Sundering

Gangs

“There's definitely something happening around the castle. The Bleeding Hearts have been the top dogs for awhile, but I'm not sure if that is going to last long. We still have the majority of the Hunters – guys who go out... where? I'm not sure where they go, but they come back with a lot of things from women to food to alcohol to gold. For some reason the Hunters have been chosen to actually leave this place – I'm still looking, still no luck – and the best ones are all in the Hearts, our boss Mordrag Desertheart definitely not least among them.

The Crowned Killers are insane, but predictable. They love bloodshed, but there's no ambition there.

I'm fairly certain that everyone in The Bloodline are vampires now. Incredibly creepy. That would explain their arrogance though. Those lot are always proud of their breeding.

The Bulls would be a problem if their three leaders weren't so incompetent. The muscle of ten ogres between them but I'd say they add up to less than one brain.

The Cast Away Creed is a threat. They have really been gaining positions in the Hunters and in all of the other important circles around the castle. They used to only have this massive man, Arrow, in the group, but now they have six or seven positions. The Creed is odd, they have this strong sense of honor and justice on the surface, but I think they're really the same as us. They won't admit to any espionage, but I know I've noticed some of their scrubs tailing me when word gets out that I have a new target.

There's a struggle coming, I'm sure of it. I've just got to make sure that the winners are Mordrag and the boys, the ones who are going to keep me around afterwards.”

Jeko “The Knife”
Personal Journal
1531 Post Sundering

Portals

“Things are still tense, but nothing's happened yet. Mordrag never told me, but I've definitely been promoted to assassin. They have me doing a hit every other week, and it pays infinitely better than anything I could have made just spying. I have a lot more free time now, so I still sneak around and look in on people, but only for my own knowledge. Boy has that knowledge been interesting.

I was on the thirtieth floor, snooping around some old crates, when I felt something not unlike the feeling I got in the forest when I was following those poachers. I was on my guard, but completely unprepared for the funny little dwarf I found fiddling about behind one hallway door. He was over some sort of magical apparatus, looking like he was working some sort of scale or balancing some sort of tool. Well apparently he has been the one working with the hunters. That magical... whatever it is... opens up special sorts of doors that take the Hunters to different lands where they do what they do best. Hunt. Whatever the castle needs, the Hunters... acquire... Is the castle turning into a bit of a sausage feast? Bring in a crop of elf or human women to balance things out. Too little money? Coins. Too little money? Some top class goods for people to spend money on. Its no wonder that the Hearts have been so successful over the years. They've got the largest say in the distribution of anything we bring back. I know I have to get myself into that group.”

Jeko “The Knife”
Personal Journal
1531 Post Sundering

Mordrag Desertheart

Name: Mordrag Desertheart

Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Age:
43

Profession:
Hunter
Gang:
The Bleeding Hearts

Picture/Description:
Mordrag's appearance closely mirrors his wild personality. His dirt brown hair hangs to his shoulders, jutting in all directions and meeting his chest-length beard. Both unwashed, his hair and beard might contain bits of food from any time in the past week. Mordrag is a towering hulk of a man with thick, corded muscles from years of fighting mingling with layers of fat from years of drinking and eating. He has strong features with a powerful jawline and bushy eyebrows set in a heavy, furrowed brow. His blue eyes contrast brightly with his tanned and sun weathered skin. Worn over his broad shoulders is a sleeveless burgundy vest, buttoned only halfway up to reveal abundant black chest hair. His black pants have a multitude of pockets attached or sewn in, each filled with different objects. Black leather boots and white cloth wrappings around his wrists finish of his daily outfit. When ready for battle, Mordrag's adds a black, hardleather single pauldron with an attached canvas torso covering to his attire.



Personality:
Mordrag is truly one of a kind. Rude, explosive, and constantly joking, his strong personality certainly makes an impression. He is easy to make either a friend of an enemy of. Mordrag is both a fighter and a lover, the former making his gold, the latter losing it.

The bear of the man has a few odd quirks. In his belongings, one will find more ridiculous trinkets than anything of actual value. Whether stolen, bartered for, or looted off of a fallen foe, random items seem to continue to make their way into Mordrag's possession. In addition to his item collection, the big man prides himself on his quick judgement of others. These judgements weren't always right, but boy were they made quickly.

History:
Born in the center of a nomadic barbarian tribe to a single mother, Mordrag never knew his father. Because he was always larger than the other children, Mordrag was forced to be a warrior from an early age, beating down every other boy who stepped up and tried to prove their strength against 'the big one.' These small victories fed continuously into the man's confidence, giving him boisterous and hedonistic tendencies. Not the most intelligent, even of his barbarian tribe, the big man grew into the only role he could find, as the muscle for smarter, smaller men.

After working security for a few years for a small satellite of a powerful spicing company, the Yellow Traders, Mordrag caught the eye of labormaster who brought him back to the company's center of operations. Upon his arrival, the bear of a man discovered that the three barons with disputed sovereignty over this area had decided to work together to bring down the Yellow Traders after feeling threatened by their quickly growing influence. A combination of warehouse raids and forced boycotts – through intimidation, bribery and blackmail – brought about the fall of the great spicing company, and subsequently, Mordrag's unemployment. Mordrag then went on to wander the world, acquiring companions in his quest for riches and earthly enjoyment. Because of their experience, the group were often employed; however, taverns and brothels frequently saw them goldless.

It isn't clear how Mordrag came to find his way into the Rogues' Castle, but he has been the undisputed leader of The Bleeding Hearts and the Hunters for over a decade. He is a confident, charismatic and brutal leader, well-loved by friends and respected by all.

Combat Proficiency:
Just like his outward appearance, Mordrag's fighting style mimics that of a large bear. He utilized his massive size to overwhelm his opponents, crushing or stabbing them from distance with the long reach of his arms and polearm together. Up close, the large man's thunderous punches are accentuated by the studded rings hidden under his hand wrappings. He is not the quickest or the most agile, so he is used to receiving more blows than he delivers; however, the man is able to survive by always making sure to hit much harder when his opportunity arises. Though he is inventive in no other way, Mordrag has an affinity for dealing pain.
Magical Abilities:
Is brute strength and a lack of planning a magical ability? No? Then N/A
Skills:
Everything from Bashing Skulls to Smashing Skulls.

Equipment:
Mordrag has a tendency to collect a random variety of objects in his many pockets from rocks to jewelry to food items. He is fascinated by each item in his collection be it rare or mundane. Strapped to his back is a specialized (or improvised) marteau de lucerne – long polearm shaft ending in a spiked, double sided meat hammer with an extended spike on top. Underneath each of his hand wrappings are a couple of two-fingered rings, each equipped with a large, square stud to aid in his 'persuasiveness.'

Lucerne Hammer

Other:
N/A

[Mivuli]

Tylan Hallaw

Name: Tylan Hallaw

Gender

Male

Race

Human

Profession in the Castle

Hunter. As a navigator who knows stealth like a brother, Tylan could be considered a veteran smuggler in the castle, who steals out into the night, and returns only when he has chests of vied for commodities and the sharp salty scent of sea spray on his skin and in his hair. He is known around the Castle as an established Hunter, who has no compunction about raiding trading galleys for a laugh, and their wares.

Gang

Unaffiliated. Tylan remains untethered to any specific gang, rather offering his services to any who can pay a worthy coin. He imagines some might be miffed by that, but it keeps things lively in this Castle.

Description

Tall, thin, and reedy, Tylan is extremely light – both on his feet and in terms of weight – with a mop of brown, unruly curls crowning his head. He is agile, with sinewy muscles and unadvertised strength. His eyes are a silver-green, flecked with blue, very much like the hue of the oceans he has cast his gaze over for years thus far.

Personality

Tylan is not always what he seems. He can appear mischievous, bordering on childish. His behaviour is not malevolent, but rather chaotic. Energetic, he comes across as high-spirited with his laughter and smirks. However, Tylan is just as likely to be chuckling at a joke, as he is to be scanning his companion for chinks in the armour, opportune for a dagger in the back. Innately dark-humoured, Tylan is – in reality – discerning and brooding, but does not oft give the impression of being anything other than immature.

Untrusting, and skittish around the strange, Tylan does not lend his loyalty easily, and will erect a fortress of suspicion around himself that takes twice as long to dismantle as it does to build. Similarly, Tylan is not to be trusted wholeheartedly. He will avoid base treacheries where possible, but should push come to shove, his survival will still take precedence over all else. This trait might make him selfish, and a craven, but it preserves him. His juvenility is for the most part deliberate and exaggerated, a constant dramatic performance. Tylan is no fool, but acting as one has given him the occasional advantage, that he plays to the fullest. Behind the japes and façade, Tylan is intelligent, cunning, and prone to the occasional moment of sobriety and generosity.

History

Tylan is a baseborn lad, son to a whore. Bastards aren’t few and far between, but the shame they bear upon their names like a cross above their hearts can be potent enough to follow them through their lives. The brothel his mother resided in was located just to the side of the harbour that was his birthplace, and Tylan’s earliest memory as a tyke was of him dodging around merchants’ stalls and crates of fish. He remembers toddling up a damp wooden plank, feeling it rocking beneath his feet, only to be plucked up by the armpits. The well-meaning sailor didn’t want to contend with barely-whelped stowaways, but Tylan needed only to flash a precocious smile for the sailor’s resolve to dissolve. Few ships at the harbour could close themselves to a young boy with harmless flashing eyes since. Tylan feels most at home onboard any deck, and learnt that day to beguile and charm to attain his whims.

His mother has long since passed, but Tylan found unlikely kin among the sea-bound. They entertain his company when they stop at port; bring him trinkets, and bawdy raucous stories of battle, trade, and women from far-away lands. When he was eleven he sailed for the first time on a maiden voyage. Though the journey was to a neighbouring port, and no further, it thrilled Tylan to no end. The rock and lull of the boat, the icy spray of the sea: he loved it all, and spent the next five years learning from the most lucrative of traders, pirates and smugglers how to man a ship, learning the ropes with deft hands.

Soon, he joined their ranks, as young as a stowaway, and was just as often steering the ships as he was cleaning their decks, until the pirates all agreed he was old enough when he reached his thirteenth name day to be called a man. Tylan quickly became recognised on the seas as a boy pirate with no peach fuzz to speak of, and merchants on raided galleys who first saw him often laughed, until they gurgled on their blood when their throats were deftly slit, or punctured by his spear. Like the band of smugglers he sailed with, Tylan knew no compunction or mercy, only the joy of loot and bounty after a successful raid. As he grew holder, they became more frequent, until Tylan all but forgot the bitter taste of a failed ambush.

Combat Proficiency

Knife-Handling (Master) – From deftly sawing through fisherman’s rope, to cleanly slitting a throat, Tylan knows intimately how to arm himself with daggers and knives. He isn’t half-bad at throwing them either, and his aim is something to boast of.

Spearing (Expert) – Lighter than swords, but with a greater reach, the spear is no stranger to Tylan, who has found the weapon practical on both land and sea. Tylan has speared fish-bellies for dinner before when he tired of maritime provisions and rations, and has fended off his share of incensed merchants in the markets with the nearest object – often a long skinny stick, abandoned by passing visitors. He knows how to flick his wrist just right to land a blow that thwacks against his opponent’s side, and how to drive the butt of the spear into another’s ribs and steal his air. He can also twirl a spear expertly behind his back and around his person, but that particular skill is reserved for cocky show-offs.

Archery (Intermediate) – Tylan did not spend much time on land, but half of it was devoted to learning archery from a kindly traveller who frequented the ports once a full moon. He favours his blades, but the utility of a bow and arrow is not lost upon him. Even now, he retains a bowman’s skills.

Combat Flaws – Suited for nimbleness and haste, Tylan does not have the strength to wield or swing a sword for long. Shove a longsword into his hands and he is like to bleed before the fifth cut. Wounds sustained in battle will also take their toll on Tylan, whose health is admittedly not the strongest, which is why his defensive stance surpasses his offensive.

Magical Abilities

NA

Skills

Sailing (Master) – Tylan is most at home aboard a ship’s deck. He has sailed the far seas, knows of many a shipman’s tale, and can don a sailor’s tongue when it befits the situation. His stomach is iron-cast as well when he rides the waters, and seasickness does not plague him. He can scale a ship-mast as well as a squirrel shimmies up a tree, and is easily mistaken for a monkey when he leaps from the ropes and riggings of a ship. Challenge him on a deck and he will likely toss you overboard. This makes him well-suited for ambushing merchants' ships on the waters, so that he may make his merry way off back to the Castle with treasures and goods.

Equipment

Rows of daggers lined like teeth in sheaths on a belt that hangs lopsided on his waist. He is no highborn lady, but that belt is the finest stitch-work Tylan has ever produced, and to take it away from him would incur his wrath like no other. Tylan also greatly favours the spear he keeps with him often. It is almost as long as he is tall, and when placed butt to the floor reaches past his shoulder. With a narrow varnished wooden shaft and a silver metal head Tylan finds soothing to sharpen and oil, the spear can be commonly found strapped to his back, slanted at an angle so as to prevent it from getting entangled between his knees.

Other

[malibootay]

Ourl Dalash Character Sheet

Ourl Dalash

Gender:
Male
Race:
Goblin
Age:
32

Profession:
Fence
Gang:
The Crowned Killers

Personality:
Ourl is a manipulator. He doesn't have much empathy for others, only for profit. He is not ambitious socially, but he is always trying to make himself a fortune. He is a wheeler dealer, constantly buying and selling everything he thinks might turn him a profit. Without a strong moral code, the goblin isn't above exaggerating (lying) about his wares, convincing (blackmailing/torturing) people to agree with him, or outcompeting (violently eliminating) his opposition. Ourl is a bit cruel and sadistic, using others to ensure his own position.

Despite his other moral failings, Ourl has a strong attachment to animals. He always looks to protect animals from the evil races, never permitting one to be harmed in front of him. He is a hardline vegan, refusing to eat anything that takes away from any animal's well being. For this reason, Ourl tends to eat away from the meadhall, for the smell of cooking meat and the site of barbarians chewing on slaughtered flesh makes him sick to his stomach.

Combat Proficiency:
-Blow Dart Marksman: Ourl is not especially strong, but he also isn't one to shy away from a fight. He will stand behind any sort of cover – walls, tables, his comrades – and pick his shots carefully. He is fairly accurate, but most importantly, always makes sure that his darts are fully supplied and without blemish. Often, his darts will be coated with various poisons with a variety of effects – paralysis, heart-stopping, rage-inducing.
Combat Weaknesses:
Ourl's entire advantage comes, not from his own abilities, but from the fact that he always stacks the odds in his favor. He plans every encounter ahead of time, and is supremely confident in his ideas. Because of this arrogance, the goblin is prone to being surprised after underestimating his opponents. Whenever he is caught off his guard, he is immediately forced to scramble, for a deep panic sets in whenever he is forced to deviate from his plans or think on the fly.

Skills:
-Salesman: Ourl is nearly always able to convince his customers of the value of his goods.
-Interrogator: Ourl is cruel and sadistic; he knows exactly how to convince people to agree with his best wishes.

Equipment:
-Blow Gun and a few score darts
-Various poisons, oils, and potions
-A large sack strapped to his back with whatever he is currently selling