Blackbeard

Starless

I've edited my sheet. I'll probably add to it over time but I think I'm happy with it now. I went over the Mythology and re-wrote it to read better. I hope it worked!

Anyway should we discuss everyone relationship? I don't think anyone is alive at the same time but following the timeline some character would have heard of others and vice-versa. Should we discuss to what degree those characters are known and how each hero feels about any others he has heard of?

Starless

@Transience 60,000 years!! damn I'm going to place my guy further back in history then XD We are all within 4k years of the modern era which seems a little strange to me so I'll give my guy some more wrinkles when he wakes up.

Starless

@Jack Travidi All of the legendary heroes (Bar yours) are said to have died 1000 years or more ago. The Starless has only come to fruition roughly 500 years ago, 500 years after the last (again bar yours) hero had died. As such the basis is the heroes should be at least 1000 years old by now, apart from yours whom, from your mythology, was 16 when the gods fires had started to extinguish. Placing you firmly 500 years after the last hero was meant to have died (one last time, apart from yours) being at the beginning of the Starless era makes you the youngest and most recent hero.

That's how I interpret the situation.

Warhammer 40K: Task Squad

@Zetsuko

Starless

I've edited my appearance and abilities section so they read a little better. I had some godawful sentence ordering in there >.<

A point I want to bring up, is that throughout my mythology I've never actually named which god is said to be my father. It seems that the most logical choice would be the god of winter, or something along that vein. Do you need me to elaborate on him at all?

Also at some point (Probably not tonight?) I will edit his mythology a little, taking out the parts about him supposedly being killed and coming back (oops) and including the fact that when he went to conquer the world he didn't get far outside of the eastern lands as he found them to warm and so didn't think them useful or some such reason (Another connection he could have to being the god of winters son?).

Edit: I could also do with naming the mountain, and the pass in the story.

Warhammer 40K: Task Squad

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It did not take long for Silverlain to get to the point, he began to elaborate on their situation to which Anomander could only listen. It was when he proposed the idea of settling down on Soliaire that Anomander showed any emotion, smiling to himself in the irony.
Long desensitized to the types of images that accompanied the mission file, Anomander looked upon the details with dead eyes. He was not interested in quashing rebellions, but it served his purpose. The arbiters seemed to be having a particularly difficult time with one Rolf Devran. An Anarchist, as he was so dubbed. The title only displeased Anomander. People claiming to be anarchists simply wanted to rock the boat when they weren't getting things their own way, none truly knew what it meant to cause utter chaos, simply for the sake of doing so. His eyes passed over many pictures of maps, individuals and riots. As Silverlain explained the involvement of a priest Anomander immediately thought to have the situation evaluated.
Although it was wrong to actually call the Emperor a god, many believed him so. As such religious cults would often rise to the defense of their would-be savior. Religion, as Anomander saw it, was simply a way to control people. There were beings powerful enough to be considered gods in the galaxy, Anomander had seen proof of that, however to believe said beings had anything other than selfish intentions was foolhardy.

The presentation continued as planned, but roughly halfway through Silverlain caught Anomanders attention. 'Unharmed'. This man who had started a revolution, whom had acted against the rule of Marximus himself and had struck blows against the Arbites, was to be spared? Shuffling slightly in his seat Anomanders mind began to play with the various reasons that could unravel the governments intent. He must be worth something to them? Was he previously a man of note? did he have something in his possession? Or could it even be a matter of family? Anomander found an equilibrium in these situations, he hated not knowing what was really going on, but he coequally enjoyed the chance of discovering hidden knowledge.
The emphasis Silverlain put on not harming Devran gave Anomander another problem. If things got heated and a fight ensued, Anomander might not be under complete control of his actions. He couldn't guarantee that Devran would be spared his unavoidably wild powers. He relented that he would have to take a back seat on this occasion, at least as far as Devran himself was considered, if the pictures were anything to go by there would be apt opportunity to deal with the cultists under his regime.

As the questions and answers proceeded Anomander resumed his distant stare at the boards of information. This assignment seemed relatively mundane but something about it, particularly about this Devran, unnerved Anomander. As if he had to prepare himself, Anomander assumed that something would present itself during this task, something that would bring to light the true nature of Silverlain and the man he called his governor.

Starless

Updated but willing to change it if conflicts arise.

Starless

N O R C O K H A N

Theme Song


T I T L E S
Wolf in the Mountain | The White-eyed King

T I M E O F L E G E N D
30,592 Winters since


A P E A R A N C E

Due to the lack of artistry in his time, there are very few sources that can correctly gauge his aesthetic. It is true that he is taller than most men, standing at six-foot-six, but he does not tower over rooftops as is sometimes claimed. His eyes are not quite the pure white that is depicted in the tales either, they are in fact a very light shade of grey and whilst he does indeed have pupils, it makes his stare is no less forgiving. It is difficult to discern whether or not Norco is an ugly man for his ragged black beard, stained white in places, hangs over his mouth and chin like a chain-mail coif. Cheek bones sit high on his face, stretching his rough whitened skin that darkens ever so slightly in the crevices of his wide nose.

His attire in the books and fables has forever been an example of his barbarism. Scantily clad across his broad chest they like to infer that his skin is armour enough. The truth is that during his time Norco wore many furs and pelts of animals that he had personally hunted. A bears head sits on his shoulders, halved down the center of its head and turned forward to match his gaze, they act like pauldrons of a brutish nature. Cloths and leathers cover the rest of his body leaving only his hands and head uncovered and exposed to the elements.

A B I L I T I E S & W A R G E A R

Norco is known as a warrior king, one of the deadliest to ever live. A swing of his axe can cleave several men in twain allowing him to carve his own bloody path through a battlefield. Whilst he is not the most skilled warrior in history his disregard for his own safety makes him insurmountable, wounds and injuries have been said to heal in hours rather than days. A blessing of endurance, no doubt from his father.
Norco is also known to have a particular affinity for the cold. Having been raised in such circumstances this is hardly surprising. Beginning his campaign in the frozen east his battles have become legendary in their own right. Gliding across the ground with an unnatural ease a close mist shields him from those who seek him, his ambushes are renown. His prowess in the bitterness of winter went so far as to claim the snow itself was his ally.

Banemaw - The Axe Norco wields is known by this name. Forged in the blood of a great wolf and sharpened upon it's teeth, its blade is said to cause wounds that may never heal, demanding the death of any who feel it's bite.

M Y T H O L O G Y

In the frozen wastelands to the East, myth tell us of a man so huge that he could not feel the sting of arrow tips, that swords bounced from his skin as if striking a sheet of iron. That his very step would imprint onto rock. Indeed this hulking warrior, this behemoths legend has stretched to the very edges of the world and back. Passed down generations as tales told around a fire, everyone at some point has heard that name, Norco Khan.

Our story begins with a people known as the Kulgan. A clan of barbarians that lived at the foot of a mountain fixed into the eastern steppe horizon. Christened Ironmaw mountain, it served as the highest peak within twenty leagues, overlooking two smaller mountains to its left and right.
The Kulgan annually traversed the only safe passage through these mountains, eager to reach the bountiful forest that flourished on its far side. It was in the thirty-second year of Chieftain Kosk, a most notable leader in his own right, that those gatherers returned with more than roots and berries. In the snow covered mountain pass, a boy was found. Wrapped in a grey cloth, protecting him from the biting cold, his cries bounced from the rock faces and high into the air. It did not take long for the expedition to find the boy, sat upon a boulder free from the snow. The sole woman in the group stepped forward and picked him from the rock like a root from the ground. The very first thing she noticed were his eyes, a pure white with no pupil, no iris. She could describe them as two perfect spheres of marble if only she knew of the precious stone.
“A gift from the gods!” She exclaimed to the people traveling with her. A boy supposedly placed in their path so as to live a normal life, but he would grow to be anything but normal.

The people of the Kulgan took the infant in, raising him as one of their own. He grew, and grew fast. By the time he was seventeen he could match any man around for size. They were no strangers to watching him achieve feats they thought impossible, from picking up felled logs in the building of huts to large for any other to carry. Or the most famous of his fables, the confrontation with a colossal dire wolf which he dispatched single handedly with nought but his hands, earning him the name ‘Wolf of the Mountain’. It wasn't until his early twenties that Norco began to wonder of his origins. He had been told the story of the baby in the mountains many times before, yet if left too many questions unanswered. That winter Norco left the village, he headed for the mountain pass in search of those answers.
A year passed and the Kulgan heard nothing of their adopted son. Some feared his death after traversing the pass in the dead of winter, a pilgrimage none dared to take. Another winter passed, another followed. It took five long years, when his fate had been decided, that Norco stepped down from the mountain to the people he once knew. Norco was different, in the five years he had seemed to grow only larger. His face and body showed exactly what it took to survive as he did for so long, muscle and sinew tying all of his limbs in place. He had become a man. The people gathered at the villages edge to watch a Goliath stride towards them. A man few believed to be real, a man with pure white eyes. The woman who had lifted him from that rock nearly two decades ago fell to her knees as she recognized the nearest thing she had to a son.
His gaze pierced her with an air of pure might, taking a knee himself, his face softened for the slightest of moments as he took her hand. The words he spoke in that moment have been written in the history books of almost every civilization since, "The Wolf returns".

Norco Khan quickly became one of the most legendary warriors alive, single handedly he dragged the small village of barbarians to the heights of a recognized world power. Indeed since that day it has been said that to travel to the east is to walk into the jaws of a wolf. They spread throughout the east in startling fashion, crushing anything and anyone that stood in their way. With Norco as their leader, the Kulgan were a seemingly invincible people. It took several decades, yet the Kulgan at one point in history ruled the entire eastern fringe of the known world. Mercifully for those who dwelled in elsewhere the great clan were reluctant to leave the frozen steppes, they were too acclimatized to the cold and struggled in every season but winter.
It was not until he reached the age of forty-seven that Norco met an enemy that he could never hope to defeat, time. His hair grew white, his face sagged and wrinkled. The white-eyed king, as he would come to be known in the histories, was laid to rest in the very place he began his journey, the mountain pass above his old village. A pile of stone rests, sealed together and immovable as if to match the man underneath. Some say that whilst walking through the mountain pass, you can still hear the cries of a young baby boy. Alas his tomb has never been found by the many adventurers that have strived to traverse the east. Some think the legend was never true.

Many years later the bards of younger nations would sing of his journey into the mountain, the five long years he spent in the numbed pass of Ironmaw mountain. It was rumored that atop that mountain, Norco questioned the gods. Bellowing his frustration towards the heavens in a thunderstorm so violent it cast a shadow across the world. A single bolt of lightning struck the hard stone ground, meters from where he knelt. A dire wolf. Larger than any living beast approached Norco from that scared rock. It did not bear its teeth, it did not advance with aggression. It simply sat in front of Norco Khan. He did not know it, but that wolf was no beast, it was a god. The father of Norco Khan had come to stare his descendant in the eye, to give his final blessing. His survival in the mountain had proved his worth and he was accepted by his progenitor. The wolf tipped it’s head skywards, to which Norco followed. Confronted by a strange alignment of stars, in the shape of Ansus, a cloud drifted across its expanse. A cloud in the shape of a wolf's head. Norco Khan, the wolf in the mountain, the white-eyed king, was to become the mightiest warrior the world had ever seen. It was a title that he undeniably lived up to.

The Kulgan, under new leadership managed to continue their reign for a few years. However without Norco, they could not resist the empires that lay on their doorstep. Year after year the Kulgan lands shrank, retreating back the cold, bitter wastelands of the east. Even today there is still a town at the foot of the Ironmaw mountain. They no longer call themselves Kulgan, but their blood is linked, and they still await the wolf in the mountain to descend once more, to lead once more.

"And when you die,
The only kingdom you'll see,
Is two-foot wide,
and six-foot deep."

_{- Extract from the saga of Norco Khan -}

Starless

I....I think I'm finished?

I'm sure it's dragging behind compared to everyone elses but I hope its good enough. Please let me know if there are any problems. Also if there are any peculiar turns of phrase or incomprehensible sentences please let me know, I don't have the best prose.

Warhammer 40K: Task Squad

I'll follow JB. I had a post but things have moved faster than I anticipated.

Edit: Enjoy!