BurningCold

The Tales of Winding

@Bombardier But if he eats it only to have it recycled through his body... where did it come from in the first place?

The Tales of Winding

@Bombardier Where the hell does that thing get all of the dung?

(It's an interesting concept though)

The World of Blood Compact

@Wraithblade6 I'd support bringing them back anyways. (And not just for Kane) I think they added an interesting dynamic to the game. Anyone that dislikes vampires but also dislikes Soldier is sort of SoL to a degree. I might have to change Kane's goals to work with the vampires to bring down Soldier.

Fall of Vedrus

Helmut

Helmut

Name:
In another life, the creature was Lionel Whitedrake, brave knight and dragon slayer. Nowadays it is Helmut, seeker of coin and warrior for hire.

Gender:
Not as if that much matters to it anymore, but in life, it was a male.

Age:
Centuries, it must have been. Not that the creature can truly remember whatever the case may be.

Race:
Whitewashed bones groan and creak, and an unrest soul rises from it’s final resting place. The sight of the armored skeleton is a ghastly one.

Side in War:
Where there is coin, the creature can promise it’s aid.

Appearance/Description:
Helmut is of average height, with hidden strength imbued by necromantic energies. It walks with a head held high, purpose in every step taken. One might believe the creature thinks itself a man.

Backstory/Bio:
The creature was not always as such. In time’s long forgotten, it was a boy. The boy was named Lionel, firstborn son of the proud Whitedrake family. Lionel was trained from an early age the ways of the sword, and of the shield. A good sword to plunge deep into the hearts of beasts and men, and a better shield to protect against a wyrm’s fiery breath or a rival opponents own weaponry. Lionel was training to become a knight.

And so, time passed, and the boy was no longer. Now a man stood in his place. The man was named Lionel, firstborn son and knight of the proud Whitedrake family. Lionel was regarded far and wide for his skill with a sword, and with a shield. They say he turned the fiery breath of dragons to ice, how fearful they were of his presence. The time for slaying dragons had ended though. Now the country turned to war. Man against fellow man, kin against kin. This was so much simpler than dragon slaying, yet undoubtedly more complicated. The first few skirmishes went well for Lionel. So did the first battle. The knight had distinguished himself, and was given command of a large company. Indeed, Lionel was nigh on unstoppable, no man could best him in fair combat. The rebels knew this, and had grown to be afraid. So they bested him the only way they could. With trickery. The knight rode upon his horse, comfortably safe within his own lands. He was on leave to visit his wife and fledging daughter. It had been so, so long since last he saw them both. Indeed, he was comfortably safe within his own land. So he did not expect the two arrows that plunged their way deep into his back, nor the sensation of tumbling from his horse down the bank and into the river that lay on his left. The river carried him far, and he became washed up in some subterranean cave. The knight tried to move, or call for help, but the pain was far too great. Lionel was dying.

And so, time passed, and the man was no longer. Now a creature lay in his place. Decades later, an enterprising necromancer came upon the creature. The spell was cast, and the collection of bones now known as Helmut rose. There was a problem for the living, however. The spell was cast improperly, and the creature was under no oath to it’s supposed master. The young necromancer’s blood stained the cave rocks, and his deceased body took the creature’s place lying at the bottom of that forsaken hole in the ground. Unsteadily it shambled out of the cave, wisps of memory tugging at it's mind. The creature paid them no heed, and strode into the world.

Choice of Weaponry:
The creature fancies a sword and shield, it believes them to be staunch weapons.

Garb:
It wears the same armor in death that it wore in life… or what’s left of it at least. Steel plate and iron links protect this knight’s ancient bones.

Personality:
The creature is as complex as a dwarven puzzle cube. Indeed, sometimes it is vocal, and other times silent. Sometimes callous and pragmatic, and in some situations almost caring. It's true intentions and feelings can never be gleamed through it's unchanging face. Helmut is highly unpredictable. However, there is one consistency. If there’s a job somewhere, you can stake your life that the creature will find it.

The World of Blood Compact

@Wraithblade6 Any word on my character?

The World of Blood Compact

Assuming Kane gets accepted he'd fit in great with Purge. Any chance we can see those guys come back? (The OP sort of teased at it but I don't know if it's out of date or not)

Fall of Vedrus

Och, sorry about that gents (and ladies?). Better late than never!

App

Name:
In another life, the creature was Lionel Whitedrake, brave knight and dragon slayer. Nowadays it is Helmut, seeker of coin and warrior for hire.

Gender:
Not as if that much matters to it anymore, but in life, it was a male.

Age:
Centuries, it must have been. Not that the creature can truly remember whatever the case may be.

Race:
Whitewashed bones groan and creak, and an unrest soul rises from it’s final resting place. The sight of the armored skeleton is a ghastly one.

Side in War:
Where there is coin, the creature can promise it’s aid.

Appearance/Description:
Helmut is of average height, with hidden strength imbued by necromantic energies. It walks with a head held high, purpose in every step taken. One might believe the creature thinks itself a man.

Backstory/Bio:
The creature was not always as such. In time’s long forgotten, it was a boy. The boy was named Lionel, firstborn son of the proud Whitedrake family. Lionel was trained from an early age the ways of the sword, and of the shield. A good sword to plunge deep into the hearts of beasts and men, and a better shield to protect against a wyrm’s fiery breath or a rival opponents own weaponry. Lionel was training to become a knight.

And so, time passed, and the boy was no longer. Now a man stood in his place. The man was named Lionel, firstborn son and knight of the proud Whitedrake family. Lionel was regarded far and wide for his skill with a sword, and with a shield. They say he turned the fiery breath of dragons to ice, how fearful they were of his presence. The time for slaying dragons had ended though. Now the country turned to war. Man against fellow man, kin against kin. This was so much simpler than dragon slaying, yet undoubtedly more complicated. The first few skirmishes went well for Lionel. So did the first battle. The knight had distinguished himself, and was given command of a large company. Indeed, Lionel was nigh on unstoppable, no man could best him in fair combat. The rebels knew this, and had grown to be afraid. So they bested him the only way they could. With trickery. The knight rode upon his horse, comfortably safe within his own lands. He was on leave to visit his wife and fledging daughter. It had been so, so long since last he saw them both. Indeed, he was comfortably safe within his own land. So he did not expect the two arrows that plunged their way deep into his back, nor the sensation of tumbling from his horse down the bank and into the river that lay on his left. The river carried him far, and he became washed up in some subterranean cave. The knight tried to move, or call for help, but the pain was far too great. Lionel was dying.

And so, time passed, and the man was no longer. Now a creature lay in his place. Decades later, an enterprising necromancer came upon the creature. The spell was cast, and the collection of bones now known as Helmut rose. There was a problem for the living, however. The spell was cast improperly, and the creature was under no oath to it’s supposed master. The young necromancer’s blood stained the cave rocks, and his deceased body took the creature’s place lying at the bottom of that forsaken hole in the ground. Unsteadily it shambled out of the cave, wisps of memory tugging at it's mind. The creature paid them no heed, and strode into the world.

Choice of Weaponry:
The creature fancies a sword and shield, it believes them to be staunch weapons.

Garb:
It wears the same armor in death that it wore in life… or what’s left of it at least. Steel plate and iron links protect this knight’s ancient bones.

Personality:
The creature is as complex as a dwarven puzzle cube. Indeed, sometimes it is vocal, and other times silent. Sometimes callous and pragmatic, and in some situations almost caring. It's true intentions and feelings can never be gleamed through it's unchanging face. Helmut is highly unpredictable. However, there is one consistency. If there’s a job somewhere, you can stake your life that the creature will find it.

[Always Open!] - Goldenrod Radio Tower!

I'm not really feeling it here guys. I'll pull out now before my character ends up leaving too large an impact and gets tied up in anything. Best of luck in future endeavors to you all.

The Tales of Winding

Any way we can track down the two blokes from the interest check that haven't shown hide nor hair here?

The World of Blood Compact

Dropping a new character

Kane

Name:
Kane Abellian

Image:
(It’s not done yet but it will be soon)

Age:
24

Species:
Half-Werewolf Cyborg

Goals/Faction:
He wants to prevent vampires from taking over the world, but at the same time believes that Soldier must also be destroyed.

Backstory:
A baby cries. It’s you. Mom smiles. She pats your back, calls you her dear little boy. Tears cease. Dad pulls you away. Comfort lost. This is his first time looking at you. He gives you that strange half smile. The first of many. He says you’re a bit small. Don’t worry, you’ll grow.

Swing. Crack. Whoosh. Sweat drips as you run. Third plate. Not bad. You look at Dad in the bleachers. Half smile. You see his eyes though. You know he’s proud. Shining stars. Not small anymore. Tall, athletic. A model baseball player. You win the game for your team. Good job.

Snow falls. Wind blows. Laughter in the kitchen. Your family invited the neighbors over to celebrate. Everyone loves Christmas. You’re not with them though. No. You’re in your bedroom. With a girl. She has her hands on her hips, standing in front of the door. It’s closed. Well? You see that look in her eye. She’s annoyed. She’s waiting. Gulp. You shuffle over to her. Now! You stand on your tippy toes to get closer. She’s two years older. You kiss her gently. You should see your face. Red as a rose. She smirks. This time, she kisses you. She leans down. Her lips are soft.

She moved away today. The kiss goodbye was tender, sweet. You gazed into her eyes for one last time. Not lovingly. No, you’re far too young for that. But adoration? Absolutely. You feel a bit down, but you’re strong. Don’t worry champ. She was only the first of many.

Dad didn’t come home today. Again. You remember the last time you saw him. Clear as day. He wordlessly kissed your forehead, tussled your hair, and walked out the door. Mom got drunk today. Again. You remember the last time she beat you. Clear as day. How could you forget? It was only a few hours ago. You lay crying softly in your bed, clutching the photo as you always do. That photo of you. With Mom and Dad. Smiling. Stupid child. Something inside of you begins to burn. Wildfire spreads. You’re angry. You walk into Mom’s room. There’s no need to be afraid, the alcohol knocked her out a while ago. You find Dad’s lighter. Same spot it’s always been in. Grab the lighter. Shuffling feet. Let the fire cleanse. Embers engulf you, and Mom, and Dad. Smiling. The ashes of that picture tumble into oblivion.

Swing. Crack. Groan. Sweat drips as you try to scurry away. Mom is strong though. Quick too. Hands grabbing. Child struggling. When she’s finished, you’re in pain. Bruised. Bleeding. You look at her face. Fury. Heavy breathing. Contempt. Happy birthday.

A voice screams. It’s Mom. You smile. You drive the kitchen knife further into her chest, and call her a bitch. Tears begin to fall. The screamings cease, and her lifeforce pulls away. This is your last time looking at her. The fire engulfs the house in mere minutes. You’re already out the door. She was your first victim. The first of many. You’re a bit rusty. Don’t worry, you’ll grow.

Chomp. Salt. Ketchup. Cheese. Beef. It’s a good burger. You’ve been wandering for about a year now. Don’t fear. No one is looking. The fire burned everything. You are a dead man. A clever man. Then you spy her. Cute short hair. Legs up to here. Low cut top. You walk over. Chat her up. Twirling hair. Nervous laughter. She wants you. That night, she gets you. You skip town the next morning. Better this way.

Warm and slick. Blood. Ridiculous. He should have given up the wallet. You need the money more than he does. It doesn’t matter now. One hundred bucks. A good haul. You rise. Rain falls. Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

Kind hands reaching. Gentle eyes pleading. Mom. Forgiveness. You give it to her. How could you not? Smiling faces. A knock at the door. It’s Dad. Reunited. Family again. You wake up. Cold sweat. Dream. Nightmare? Feet dragging, body slouching. Wash the face. Cleanse the impurities. You see yourself. You’re just like her. Monster. This isn’t right.

Struggling. Fighting. Arguing. Battle of the mind. Finally, a decision is reached.

You wince. Teeth gritting. You were asleep for the implants. Not this though. Wires, tubes, all over. Pumping someone else’s life force into you. You crane your head. There he is. The table next to you. The dead werewolf. They’re changing you. You’re going to be like him.

Mirror. Again. Operation successful. Not without complications. Something went wrong when they tried to put your new left eye in. You touch at the burned flesh lightly. Some scars heal. This one sure as hell will not. You paid the price of admission. Good job.

You’re right at home in Soldier. Plenty of creatures need killing. Plenty of ways to kill them. No one bats an eye, no matter what is done to them. They are the enemy. The fact that you are on the right side comforts you at night.

Anger. Shock. Betrayal. You’re being cast out. After everything you’ve done for them, too. They turned you into what you are. Now they are abandoning you. Vengeance is sworn. The vampires will be stopped, and Soldier will be cast down into their ashes.

Powers/Skills:
Kane’s training with soldier taught him all the ins and outs of handguns, and he can now use a number of them with ease and efficiency. His cybernetic eyes can grant him enhanced sight, thermal vision, and night vision. The procedure to infuse werewolf DNA with his own was a success, granting him the senses, speed, strength, and regenerative properties of one of the alaskan beasts. While not able to shift into a wolf himself due to his implants, his human DNA means that silver weaponry is only slightly more effective than normal.

Equipment/Weapons:
The black metal arm on his right side is made of a strong but light alloy, with retractable claws tipped with silver capable of easily rending flesh from bone. Additionally, he carries with him two guns loaded with silver bullets, a Colt M1911 and a S&W Model 629.

Themesong: