CadenGallic

Schism: Blood of Heroes

I wonder if Maxwell knows what being a TV dinner feels like.

RWBY: Chronicle of Vault.

The leaders did indeed turn. The grey haired boy just curled his lip in irritation and prepared to do battle with his fan axe weapon. The girl in the elegant dress simply giggled and fluttered her large fan blades before heading into the crowd, twirling with elegance and grace as she began cutting the dark creatures into ribbons. The man in the high hat simply turned and smiled, looking at Julio. He placed a finger to his lips as, in an instant, he seemed to vanish from sight, without a trace.

His three lightning shots hit three of the Beowulf, a small lightning field taking out a larger number of them as the remaining large forces continued to surge forward. The Ursa were the bigger targets but their feet were hidden behind the packs of Beowulf, so he only managed to land one shot on one of their legs and that only served to slow it somewhat. The Grimm were closing in as more students emerged from the woods.

Whilst Asher's clone scouted out, the fox Faunus wasted no time in going on ahead, using his agility to leap over the wider rivers. A few hiding Beowulf attacked the clone as it rushed past them as the students from the savannah behind were beginning to catch them up. A particularly large river cut the middle of the terrain that would be hard to cross.

Conra Chronicles - Encroaching Darkness

Oh shit
I actually need to post something now!
Better get on that...

RWBY: Chronicle of Vault.

"Good idea." The fox Faunus seemed to agree with him and, as he had feared, was more than capable of keeping up with him, possibly even being faster than him as they left the savannah behind and moved onto the second stage of their Gauntlet.

Beyond them stood grassy banks and running between them were trickles and streams of water, all running from a singular source over to the left of them, but creating many rivers inbetween the grassy islands. There were no bridges in sight and some of the rivers varied from a simple step across to a decently sized width that nothing short of fording or swimming could pass them. Worse still, Grimm were present, lurking at the river sides.

As the three leaders, now with Julio behind them, raced across the wasteland, they seemed to slow down in fear. Ahead of them, a large crowd of Grimm were barelling toward them, Beowulfs leading the charge with four hulking Ursas picking up the rear. And only four stood before them, to take on the large crowd.

RWBY: Chronicle of Vault.

Sweeeet stuff brah. Love the doppelgänger alluding to his semblance, really adds to the pic.

RWBY: Chronicle of Vault.

The Deathstalker's tail was frozen up as his blade cut through one of its joints and kept the thing solid. As it began to scuttle to turn and locate its attacker, Asher was able to get off his second strike against the hulking scorpion. His blade, heated, sliced through its top armour and kept going, not stopping til it hit the craggy ground of the savannah beneath them, effectively bisecting the beast as whatever life it had left after such a blow, came across in spasms of its claws and legs. He'd done it, with such a successful blow, one of the three Death Stalkers was dead.

"That was so wicked!" The fox Faunus who had given him covering fire ran up to him through the crowd, a look of awe on his face. "I've never seen anyone take down a Death Stalker with such ease..." Asher's work seemed to have given other members of their group ideas as the girl with the flail was taking on a second of the Death Stalkers, smacking her heavy weapon into its side as a loud explosion emitted from it, knocking the creature.

The grey haired boy smirked up at Julio as he took the opportunity to rush on ahead of him, joining the duo already ahead of him as the last branches of the tall trees of the forest gave way to the second stage of the Gauntlet. Beyond the forest, the ground was cracked and earthy, barren and dry, small fissures running up the ground, dead trees bent over with skeletal branches brushing at the skies. Amidst it all, they could even see small bones half buried in the dirt. But the land was flat and open, allowing for superior movement. Their second stage was a wasteland, by the looks of it.

Conra Chronicles - Encroaching Darkness

The Gentleman

Name: Dren Rache
Race: Human
Age: 25

Appearence:

Cloaked

Uncloaked

Personality Information: Sly and smooth, Dren is something of a wordsmith and could talk a man into selling him everything he owns. Something of a manipulator, Dren tends to use another person’s words against him. This can make him somewhat obnoxious. He holds himself in high standing and is very prideful, often acting posh or upper class despite the truth being anything but.

Brief Backstory: Dren Rache was born in the slums of the town of Diremound, a seedy underbelly of crooks, cheats, liars and slaves. Dren's parents leeched off of the scraps of the city and Dren too was forced to live like them. However, as he grew up, he began to notice he had a keen eye for distinction, mostly in what he could steal from street vendors and other people. He began to grow knowledgeable in materials and herbs, even starting to combine them into chemical remedies and toxins for selling in Diremound. It earned him enough currency to finally make something of himself, when his parents passed away from disease.

Dren left Diremound and made for a richer city as fast as he could, using his knowledge and wares to earn enough coin to make himself look better, desperate to distance himself from his past in Diremound. To this end, he hired a tailor to create clothes for him, a long red cloak and matching top hat to make him appear far more regal and important than he truly was, hiding his rags underneath. He also donned a pair of white gloves to hide his gnarled hands from his work at the cauldron. He also took up sorcery, obtaining his cane in the process and practicing his work outside of the city. Soon he became a more well known figure, for both his resplendent appearance and his wares.

Current Events: Diremound has recently been overrun by monsters and Dren is simply seeking to sell his wares and ritz it up with some of the more important people in town.

Skills: Dren is a skilled mage, having a firm grasp upon magic. He is not a professional, but he knows his way around most forms of a spell. His preferred element of choice is ice. Dren is also a skilled alchemist, having sold his own brews, tinctures, tonics and salves. Given enough time and the right ingredients he can whip up whatever is needed. Dren is also generally intelligent and uses this well in combat, as well as boasting a silver tongue to charm his way around certain individuals, though this has just as much chance to land him in hot water.
Gear:
Trice Majestos Cane: A black walking stick with a gold bottom and rounded orb at the top, emblazoned with three star symbols on the hilt. Whilst normally functioning as a walking stick, the cane also has potential as a magic catalyst and is Dren’s primary form of defending himself. He supposedly made the cane himself and no-one has been able to prove him wrong yet. He also named it.

Item stock: Dren keeps a healthy supply of support items from his travels and a few he whipped up himself across the lands and makes use of them in tough situations. He also keeps a light supply of black powder bombs which he particularly enjoys the use of.

Anelace: A thin silver elongated dagger, a short sword more than anything else. Dren rarely ever used it due to being unskilled in swordplay, it is strictly a last resort.

Etc: Dren is petrified of his old poor life and will go to great lengths to ensure no-one ever knows he was once a lowly beggar, hence training himself to speak eloquently.

Conra Chronicles - Encroaching Darkness

Woop woop~

Godless Ichor (Dark Fantasy/Action)

The firebomb's explosion swallowed up the three bandits for a moment, badly burning three of them as the knight was busy finishing off the other two crossbowmen with strong strikes of his sword.

"You goddamned scum!" The man in the cloak snapped as he threw himself at Eldarin, wrapping his arms around him and quickly trying to stick him with a dagger.

Godless Ichor (Dark Fantasy/Action)

"Good boy, good boy. Be thankful, really, if an imp got you, he'd be picking you clean like a vulture." The cloaked man smiled as he rose to his feet and prepared to take his goods, when the large bandit with the shield suddenly made a loud sound of disgruntlement. "Oi, Gulley? You alright?" the cloaked man looked over at him. He was just in time to watch the large bandit keel over on his front and fall down dead.

From the cave entrance, surrounded by a glowing halo from the sunlight outside, a knight stepped forth into the cave. He was clad head to toe in pale blue armour, a billowing white cloak flowing behind him and a white plume upon his helmet. In one hand he held a large broadsword with a golden hilt. In the other, he held a rounded shield with a metal brim around it, a symbol in the center of a goblet dripping over with a black liquid. His mere presence radiated valor and majesty.

"Cowardly thieves, have you no shame in stealing from your fellow man?" he spoke to them as the bandits suddenly turned on him.

"Damn you!" the cloaked figure snarled as his fellow men turned on the knight and fired. The knight brought up his shield and blocked the arrows, dashing forward and swinging his blade, connecting with one of the men and knocking him into his fellows. For now, all the bandits attention was on him.