A Lowly Wretch

Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

Got my opening post up. Isn't my longest but it should suffice.

Just to note in case of future confusion: That isn't an emoticon in her sentence. It's literally what she said. Sort of like a note of curiosity. I swear I'm not just trying to meme on everyone.

Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

Step, step, step.

The foot-worn path gave way beneath her massive greaves. Plated boots pressed into the dirt, her tremendous weight causing her to sink an inch down into the earth beneath her which each step. Her armor was dented, scarred and chipped. Nails driven through the extra plates she had covered over old broken gaps in her armor with dug into her flesh. She had hammered the ends of the nails down so they wouldn't poke and tear into her but the bent ends still grinded into her through the threadbare holes in her gambeson. They were of little concern. There was no pain to be felt from them as they rubbed into her shoulders with each and every sway of her enormous breastplate.

She had traveled many days and nights along this path. A traveling merchant had informed her that there was a town down this road. A couple months travel he said. He had made it sound like it was a long time but it really was quite short for her. Each day was but a moment flickering on past her unnoticed. Despite how unhealthy it was for her sanity the time she had spent wandering the great sea floor had taught her many a trick on how to pass time by. She could walk for years on end with little to no thoughts on how long she had been walking. She found that acknowledging the passage of time made it feel all the longer. Perhaps she did not craft such wisdom in such descriptive phrasing but it more or less meant that in summation.

Whether or not it was a long or a short time she eventually did arrive. In anemic daylight she stood before the old wooden gate which led into the heart of the city. Ordinarily there would be guards watching from the walls and checking the wares of travelers passing through but there were none. With the loss of the clergy's sway they found themselves more inclined to serve themselves rather than the city. Those who hadn't turned to banditry were hidden away like most of the citizens were.

Step, step, step.

The cobbled stone paths held her footing much better than the dirt road just beyond. They hardly sank at all beneath her armor's impressive mass. She continued on through the streets, moving along down her way. Through the narrow slit in her helm she scanned what little she could see as she was on the lookout for a smithy or perhaps a tavern where she could look for some work. She needed the coin and she needed repairs.

A place to sew up this cut in my pants would be nice. She considered as she peered through the thin slot in her helm. Instead of those things however she found people who were running past, running away from something. Well, perhaps they were running away from something. She couldn't really tell. Often times if people were running it was either towards or away from something. Perhaps there was something they wanted to get to that she missed? Maybe the carnival was in town!

Oooo! She did so enjoy carnivals. She reminisced upon a time her father took her, her three sisters and her five brothers out to see the carnival. It was quite a magical time in her life. As she lost herself in bygone memories she was quite unaware of who or what was ahead of her until she almost smack dab in the middle of it.

Step, step... Stop.

Her ponderous endless march slowed to a halt as she looked up at the scene before her. A man and a woman stood at one side of an orc and a large winged lizard stood at the other. Quite a spectacle indeed. With her anchor sat upon her shoulder, an ancient rust-bitten tool splashed with the old brown stains of blood it has spilled which as a whole made the orc look small by comparison, She looked up and marveled at the unusual sight.

"Owo? What's this?" She wondered aloud. Her voice, while pleasantly cheerful in both sound and tone, rang with an unearthly resonance and seemed to drag on towards the end of each sentence. She stood by and looked on at what was going on, all too curious about the big lizard with wings. From an onlooker's point of view they'd see a warrior clad in so much armor naught could be seen below but the dismal yellow glow cast by the dark eyeless pits in her unseen sockets.

Well, that and the ship anchor she had rested on her shoulder.

Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

With my character done I shall begin upon her opening post.

Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

Gangraena

Name: Gangraena.
Age: 12002.
Race: Undead(Human).
Sex: Female.
Description:

Truly a figure which most would dread to see coming at them. She stands at an even six foot tall and weighs a solid one hundred and ninety pounds though most wouldn't be able to tell since she looks like she weighs half that. Most would assume a warrior such as herself would have sizeable muscles but her body looks soft and feminine, at least the parts that remain. Given the fact she's animated with dark magic muscles are hardly necessary since biologically speaking she has no right to be moving at all, let alone with such strength.

Her skin is a blue tinged grey like that of a drowned corpse. Her body might be a bit less bloated than the average floater but she looks no less drowned. Her hair is a murky dark green, not unlike kelp. Her hair is straight albeit messy more often than not and cut just above her neckline. Her face while bearing some slender femininity is a bit rounder, a softer jawline with cheeks that are more full with a lower cheekbone that accentuates the eyes which... Well, require some explanation.

The sockets which once housed eyes are empty now. More than that the eyelids themselves are missing as well, leaving the eye sockets open up to the edges of the skull, leaving only the eyebrows. Inside the hollow apertures her eyes once occupied is a deep darkness, an abyss so black staring deeply into them can leave one's grip on sanity loosened. As though swimming in the shores of the fathomless darkness which appears to stretch on for eternity are two spheres of winding light in an unearthly yellow hue, one mote for each socket.

Her armor is no less imposing than herself despite it's piecemeal collection of parts. Her helmet is a large dark iron greathelm, concealing all but the intangible clots of yellow light that serve as her eyes which shine through the narrow eye slots. Her body armor was actually taken from a famed "Turtle Knight", a massive breastplate far too heavy for any average knight to use. It's plates are half an inch thick and curved in the shape of a turtle's shell, something most knights would find unmanageable but she doesn't seem to mind it's motion restrictive design and excessive mass. For shoulder protection she wears a large set of dark iron pauldrons. On her arms she wears dark iron gauntlets and vambraces. Her legs are protected with a set of gilded but scratched iron greaves complete with once elaborate cuisses that look like whatever designs they were embossed with has been smashed into a spangle of loose metal atop the plates. Her weapon is a large ship anchor which has been covered with more than few centuries worth of rust, wielded by the loop it's tied by. It's attached to a chain which is wrapped several times around her left arm which is her dominant arm.

Notable Belongings:

- Her anchor. Despite the endless years of rust the old makeshift weapon's thickness had ensured it's survival so far. It may be pocked and riddled with old barnacle shells but it still holds up to both the rigors of travel and the trials of combat. The chain attached to it's ring is a recent addition, the original one having broken apart deep below the waves quite a while ago.

- Her armor. A collection of borrowed pieces from foes she has slain. Some parts are even segments of armor that have been strapped or crudely nailed onto preexisting articles. She tends to show preference towards heavier, more protective gear.

Backstory:

In the beginning Gangraena was the daughter in the lineage of famous knights. Practically every single member of her family had gone on to serve in knighthood, most becoming the stuff of legends once they shuffle off their mortal coil. Man and women alike, there wasn't a single member of her family that didn't fight. She was strong yes but to call her slow witted would be an understatement. Even the wooden training dummies took quicker to learning the arts of combat than she did. Still, she eventually did learn a thing or two though her basic technique still basically boiled down to "Hit target real hard". When the time came she was knighted and sent forth on her very first mission. She was to sail across the Ondorss sea alongside a detachment of her fellow knights as well as a crew to man the ship. It was there they would reinforce a fort bordering barbarian lands.

Of course right in the middle of their voyage a terrible storm struck, overturning their ship and sending all aboard it off into the roiling waters.

Most of the sailors aboard the ship drowned that night but Gangraena's fate was chosen by a different force. As she drowned shadowy forces dragged her below, pulling her body well into the depths. Her form drifted in between the great oceanic crags and into the great tear in the earth's face below the waves.

So deep below she was pulled. She was dragged into depths which in ordinary circumstances would hold pressures too great for the soft bodies of most surface dwellers. This was no ordinary circumstance however, dark magic protecting her from the dangers of the deep until she was brought into a long forgotten temple which had sunk into the ocean ages ago. This mysterious entity took her into it's flooded halls and set her upon it's unearthly altar.

When she awoke everything was grey. Strange symbols littered the walls and statues of some olden ichthyoid deity were scattered about, some mostly intact and others not so much. Without any instruction or purpose she started to float about without direction. As she swam from the temple she was starting to float away so she grasped for something to hold onto. She managed to grab hold of the anchor which had fallen off her ship which was destroyed in the storm. With the anchor weighing her down she was able to set her feet on the ground and begin upon her long trek, dragging the anchor along behind her like it was some old oar.

_
From then on she simply walked. She had no direction to follow so she'd simply walk until she ran into something and then try to walk around that. This continued for thousands upon thousands of years. Though long as such a trek might be it could of been shorter but she had a terrible sense of direction and often wound up walking in circles for many years at a time. Sometimes she would fall into pits that could swallow mountains and occasionally she'd run into mountains that make those of the surface world seem pitifully small by comparison. Being a realm vastly larger than the surface land it's features often dwarfed those that appeared above

After such an unfathomably long time spent wandering the vast sea floor she eventually came upon a shore. Trudging up this deep sea creature of undeath continued along the sandy coast until she found a quaint little fishing village. At first they were terrified but after a while they came to accept that she meant no harm. She spent a fair amount of time among them, slowly learning their language and how to fish. Over the course of many generations she eventually got the hang of both.

Such was life until a humble mercenary company came through one day. They were a respectable bunch of warriors who needed a place to stay and restock their supplies. When they saw how strong Gangraena was they were thoroughly impressed. They offered her a place in their company if she wanted to fight alongside them. She accepted the offer and went along with them the day after. Since then she's fought many battles, now wielding her anchor as a tool of death rather than just an old keepsake. Over the years they'd lose men both to battle and to sickness. Eventually after a few bad bouts of combat the company was all but wiped out. It was just her and the captain who had suffered severe wounds in the end. He decided if he did survive his injuries he was just going to retire on what funds they had left. Thus Gangraena was the only remaining member of their company.

Since fighting was what she knew best she decided to just keep up what she'd been doing so far. She traveled the land now a lone mercenary, killing for coin to afford repairs on her armor. Then the cataclysm happened. Since the power she was bestowed rested within her it was almost as if nothing had changed. She felt no weaker and now there was more demand for mercenaries than ever before.

This is where her story begins.

Magic:

She's been reanimated by a dark, ancient power that calls her physical form home. As such there's a number of changes to her, some simply being facets of being undead and others brought upon her by the forgotten one's power.

Firstly as a member of the undead she no longer holds the needs of the living. She does not need to eat, sleep, drink or even breath. Diseases and poisons sit idle in her flesh for her blood had ran still long ago. She no longer experiences fatigue and can exert herself endlessly without fail. While she no longer feels pain nor the comforts of warmth she still holds a dim sense of touch.

She has no eyes of the tangible variety but she can see perfectly fine, not only in the light but also in the darkness no matter how tenebrous it may be. This comes at the cost of being able to see in color, leaving her only able to see in shades of grey. She no longer holds any sense of taste or smell either.

In addition to the traits of her undead are the dark gifts bestowed upon her. She holds a strength far greater than any mundane man or beast. The entirety of her body is connected by this strange power so that even if an arm, a leg or even her head is removed she can control them no less than when they were still attached to her. Not only does this long forgotten essence keep her flesh from rotting like some mere cadaver but it also protects her from the harsh tolls of the water. While the beasts of the sea once respected the pact that was made between the waters and her sunken benefactor that may have changed since the cataclysm. Where once no beast of the waters would prey upon her now only fate knows which water dwelling creature still respects their ancient oath.

Though sometimes a boon undeath carries a number of drawbacks as well. The most notable drawback is that as she is no longer alive her flesh does not knit together over time like the living do. While she may not decay every wound she receives never leaves her. Her only means of maintaining structural stability is to patch together the skin with thread and, in more severe cases, to nail metal braces to the bone.

Due to the nature of the power animating her any remaining magic derived from the gods of light and life will naturally react negatively when exposed to her dark essence. Necromancy however is especially effective on her given her undead state. This can be either a boon or a curse depending on the whims of the necromancer.

Strength = 10.
Perception = 3.
Endurance = 10.
Charisma = 5.
Intelligence = 2.
Agility = 2.
Luck = 8.

Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

Good evening everyone. This rp has drawn my interest. If I may ask, is this rp still accepting new members?

The Gray Garden: A Crow's Revenge

Daisy

While she had been listening on to her explanation of the world she had arrived in she soon found her guide now asking for her to look up at her. Had she really been so obvious in her attempt to avoid rousing suspicion? Her expression of uncaring stillness gave way to a small frown upon being confronted on the matter. She looked up, keeping her attention on the lady while many a person's fears swam closely overhead.

"Pardon." She replied quickly, looking at her with unbroken focus whilst the tall cloaked avatar loomed over them both. He was as still as the dead as he looked on but in truth he was carefully watching both the two who were speaking with his summoner as well as the rest of the crowd. A silent guardian was he.

Daisy simply waited, expecting more from this one. She quietly hoped she hadn't misjudged this one's usefulness.

The Gray Garden: A Crow's Revenge

Indeed. She hadn't put her hood up yet, she had been mostly looking down towards the ground so as to not see the fears up above. The hood doesn't hide people's fears either since they're not concealable through physical impediments.

The Gray Garden: A Crow's Revenge

Reading up on the last post I noticed Vanille was asking for Daisy to remove her hood. I don't think she ever had her hood up since she arrived.

Razelia: The Kingdom Of Magic (FINISHED)

Thessir

Well, the turnabout worked though the problem had yet to abate. He had initially thought the fellow was a decent warrior but it seemed the guy had little luck holding off the blonde one's temper tantrum. He looked about to see if any guards were en route.

Well, if you want something done right you gotta let suckers distract 'em first.

Thessir quickly shuffled off into a nearby alleyway where he took shelter in the building's shadow. From there he lined up three knives, one in his left hand and two in the right.

"You, sir, are in despirate need of a lesson or two in sportsmanship."

_
Following his words which rang out to the blonde menace were three knives in subsequent order. Tossing with his main hand he quickly flit the extra knives to the main hand, one after the other until all three were issued forth. His aim was for two of the knives to meet their mark on the young man's back and for the third to strike the meat of the leg on the side closest to him.

While he definitely did not expect his attack to fell the aggressor it was sure to hurt and with any luck it would take his attention off the beast-kin for long enough for him to teleport to safety, just like how he teleported the two of them off Thessir himself.

In short order Thessir himself used the corner of the building to cut off their line of sight of him. Out of sight he sank into the shadow and vanished from the spot, emerging in a different alley well apart from where he previously was. His distance from the two hadn't grown or shrank, he had simply maneuvered around them so they would no longer know where he was. A simple tactic to mislead the blonde one and create an opening for the beast-kin while keeping himself well out of harm's way. This way he didn't even have to use is signature spell either, saving him some extra skin he was sure he'd rather spare in the next fight instead of out there dealing with hooligans.

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist [A Quirky Fighting Game Inspired Roleplay Reboot]

Al

Smash! Crash! Crunch!

The sounds of his legs and fists crushing stone and steel alike was a constant throughout the ongoing struggle that was this battle. With a brisk sweat running down his brow he suddenly heard a loud inhuman voice call out from one of the entrances.

A large reddish grey demon looking guy with a big club was floating in towards the center of the arena. He had said something in Japanese which, of course, Al couldn't understand a lick of. From everything he had seen this guy clearly had to be the ringleader or something to this whole mess of statue men.

Just as the floating guy was about to fly into a long speech in Japanese about something Al turned, yanking his fist from the middle of a statue man's chest and pointing directly at the large guy.

"Hey!" He shouted at the horned fiend before he could even get through a sentence of what he was trying to say.

"Shaddap!"

Wasting no time Al leapt from the stands, his feat cracking the concrete beneath them and sending a cloud of dust & pebbles up from his launch. In a fairly straight arc Al soared at the demon looking thing with his elbow straight out in front of him. He was going to try and clock the horny bastard with a diving elbow drop with the idea of catching the fat dork off-guard since he was gabbing away.

It was far from a fool-proof plan.