thinking about playing path of exile...standard league. if anyone wouldn't mind playing with a newbie...let me know. probably gonna go ranger or marauder. that's all > . >
@Calmgale are you still accepting people who are interested?
yeaaaaaap~
edit x2 (x3) combo; finished invari. she's awesome. or something! also added the plot thing to the info section and a little character sheet thing for convenience. y a y a y a y!
Race: Beastkin {Bovine} (i like beastkin, ok?! shut up!)
Title: None, yet, officially...and she can't think of one for herself (there are just soooo many possibilities!)
Age: 16
Appearance: Invari tends to draw glances due to her tremendous stature and "endowments". As a Bovine-type Beastkin, it is only reasonable that she would be possessed of ludicrously large breasts; though this still tends to draw glances from the more "mundane minded" folk of Kallore. She is undeniably large in all aspects, towering over most other mortals she encounters, standing at just under seven feet tall (more if ya include the slight rise of her ears). Being thick of limb and somewhat more slender about the waist, she does cut a certain form of feminine figure; though this is often overshadowed by the sheer expanse of her shoulders, size of her hands and cloven hooves. She once possessed a tail.
Her face is wide, somewhat rounded and possessed of slightly larger than normal features; eyes and mouth being veritably large, even for one of her race. Invari's skintone is somewhere just on the edge of being deep and honeyesque. She keeps her hair cut relatively short, small curls lingering just below her cheek; light brown, matching the liquid pools of her eyes. A somewhat flattened, broad nose sits above labrose lips, completing her, as said, rather broad features.
Invari adores gold, wearing heavy hoops through the base of her ears and one smaller through the side of her right nostril. Her attire is often plain, in comparison to most, with simple tones; and even though she tends to change clothing regularly, it is the bits of armor she wears that draws the eye from it. Golden, too, in coloration, but battered and bereft of any real shine; she wears gauntlets, greaves (altered to allow a bit of room for her hooves and a few inches above them) and a heavy collar about her neck. These are a gift from her mother, and she cherishes them greatly. She carries a heavy mace at her side (pretty ugly thing, honestly) and a tower shield on her back.
Personality: Invari Lashe has never been quick witted, nor particularly mindful of the world that surrounds her. However, this does not necessarily make her the 'slow' Beastkin that she appears the be on the surface. Invari takes her time in most things, thinking slowly and acting quickly; though, under pressure she tends to be at a loss and looks to others for directions...barring this she often reacts instinctively, relying on a 'fight or flight' mentality. She is reasonably pleasant and unerringly honest, though the nuances of sarcasm or subtlety are occasionally lost on her.
She is proud, to the end, of herself and all the things she's done and seen (though, admittedly, that's not a whole lot!) and strives to be a great warrior; hoping to earn huge piles of gold to make a comfy life for herself, the hard way. Invari has no head for Magic and is impressed by even the most simple of spells, but tends to be intensely curious about the functions of such things; be they actual spells or enchanted items. Invari enjoys meeting new people and making friends, though she can be fairly naive when it comes to the thoughts and feelings of others. Loyalty is something she prizes greatly and seeks to give to others, along with a shoulder to lean on. Despite her good nature and intentions...Invari can be greedy and impulsive where material goods are involved; perhaps even petulant, from time to time.
Affiliation: None, as of yet!
Abilities: Being particularly strong and quick. Hitting things with other things.
History: : One of Invari's earliest memories is of treacherous travel, fleeing from the Drasilian southlands with her family; fleeing flames and fangs in the arms of her mother, crying out in fear...only to be silenced with a gentle touch upon her brow. Smoke rose and screams filled the air, roars of pain and defiance as some turned to face the pack of Monsters that hounded them. She remembers glimpsing the back of her father's hulking form, an arm outstretched behind him, urging the others onward. The rest became a blur; cacophonic noise and the ground lingering just beneath her swinging feet...fear still caught in her throat...her mother's labored breathing.
Having fled the more immediate dangers of Drasil, Invari and her mother (Manishare) found their way into the Attenian heartland...to the bustling city of Yivishiin, where they would make a modest home. Time passed and those painful memories fled, along with thoughts of fear. While Manishare was a protective, even overbearing woman, Invari would often slip away to do as she pleased; roaming the streets with other displaced Beastkin, or Human urchins (when they felt it appropriate to employ her already impressive muscle) making what mischief she could, or simply lazing about. It was on those streets that she first entered combat, rather than simply hearing of it.
Manishare made due for herself and her daughter by unloading crates that came in from caravans, making certain that neither she nor Invari had to suffer discomfort while in the city. When at home, she would often demand Invari's attention; recounting more pleasant stories of the past, or telling her legends about adventurers. This is where the overbearing mother made her grievous mistake. Invari was instantly enthralled, after hearing these tales; much to Manishare's chagrin. Arguments were had, tears were shed...and forbiddances made.
Yet, on the day committed to the remembrance of her birth (twelve, was she, at the time) ; Invari's mother presented her with several pieces of armor. They were not golden, truly, but that did not matter to the girl...what mattered is how the light glinted from their surface, how her face was reflected in it; distorted by the bends and small waves that danced across the armor. She was in love. There was nothing in the world that could part her from the adventurer's path.
Since then, she has parted ways with her mother (though it took her nearly two and a half years to gather the heart to do so) and made her way into Drasil; returning to the land of her birth a stranger...with only a mace at her side, a shield on her back, armor around her neck, arms and legs and a considerable amount of strength. She wandered nigh aimlessly; until being informed of the bureaucratic nature of becoming a recognized and Ranked adventurer within Drasil.
Only recently has Invari come to Oakheim, stopping to pay her respects at the Stone of Nine before beginning her journey to Essia.
wip fledgling. almost done. woooooo~ WOOOOOOO! (moo?)
ok, so, here goes some stuff...i'll probably pull all of this info together and put up an OOC here in a little bit. bc i like what we've got here...four people is pretty awesome. we're pretty awesome!
anyway, here's a plot starter idea. check it oooooooooout.
As something of a rite of passage, before heading to Essia, it is common for fledgling adventurers to visit the Stone of Nine (in a small grove a few miles outside of Oakheim, if'n ya don't recall) to both pay their respects and immerse themselves in the very ideals (whatever those are to the individual) of adventurin'! Fate connives in interesting ways, when the Gods are absent or busy playing at their own devices. It is here, gathered around the Stone that we first view OUR HEROES (that's you. yeah, you! oh! and probably me, too!) as they pay their respects and reflect on the journey yet undertaken. Unbound by familiarity or companionship, these strangers stand with a great distance between them; soon to be united by the machinations of Fate its self.
Reality is ever attempting to right the wrongs within it, to restore a semblance of balance to the worlds it contains. These strangers are the instruments of Fate, yet to be tuned. With silent steps, a hooded figure arrives and places a pair small offerings at the base of the Stone (as is customary for those who wish to pay respects). A tiny thing, the first, wrapped in nothing but paper; the barest edge revealed. A bone fragment, jagged and yellowed, peering out; wordlessly enticing these gathered strangers to gaze upon it. Beside it a translucent shard, silver mist swirling lazily within. Before these strangers have been placed the beginnings of discord and suffering...but also the essence of hope.
The stranger flees as quickly as they had come, giving no glimpse of their face (wonder who that could be...), leaving the choice before the fledglings; already knowing the tune they will play and the chaotic steps that follow their raucous melody.
Fate, the stranger knows, is a predictable force...
so, yeah, that's how i'm thinking we're gonna roll these bones! i mentioned earlier that there'd be a little rough patch in getting the story started...and that's it, right up there. SOSOSOSO! let. me. know. what. you. think.
edit; ooc will probably go up before i finish elise's whole huge back story thing. look F O R W A R D to it! (though it will be pretty much just the same thread with things a little more organized and some more information here and there! stick with me on this one, ok?!~ ok!~)
still working on elise and the backstory and stuff. i know some of this is still vague and that character ideas and the plot its self haven't really been touched on a lot; so i'm gonna lay some of that down right quick and in a minute!
feel free to ask questions and stuff~ it'll help me and you help me and you to do stuff together!
the hype train rollllllls on, everlasting...something~ something insane~
let's. all. make. noises. like. a. train.
fixed up elise's character sheet a bit...her story is kinda important to what's gonna be going on, so i suggest ya check it. i'm not done...not by a long shot, but, uh, still! ^_^'
spookyedit; ghosts and skeletons on this page! ohhhhhhhhh mMMMmmmMMmmmmy!
calmedit redux; totally added the names of the nine heroes and their titles...aaaaand some basic info. race and class and whether or not they're alive!!! (though class is an abstract concept...so...uh...yuh and, i guess, sometimes, so is living...)
Appearance: Snow white hair elegantly cascading over delicate features, Elise has always been pleasing to gaze upon. Though, her gaze, often, leaves others unsettled. Deepest azure peers from beneath those alabaster waves, bearing the slitted pupil and oblong eye-shape of her kind. Slender shoulders bear the weight of silver pauldrons, smooth and ever polished; bereft of any scratches or dents. Between the pauldrons, at her back, flows a grey, hooded cloak; clasped at the front, a white tabard covering modest breasts and a toned form. She is tall, among her kind, standing nearly at six feet tall; perhaps more if you included the rise of the feline ears perched atop her head...similarly porcelain in coloration to both her hair and skin.
Around her arms are wrapped grey silken gloves, though on her right arm she wears a light sleeve of plated armor. Her waist is wrapped in a skirt of chains, bound together by silver clasps; beneath which lies a pair of well-worn traveling pants, brown, burlap and loose, held in place by the same clasps that link her skirt. Elise's legs are clad in long boots with metal strips evenly spaced along them, beginning at the ankle and going upward to the cuff of the boot; which ends at her knee.
Personality: Elise is known to wear a sad smile, most of the time; the smallest upturning of her lips that does not quite belie the burden she carries behind her eyes. She is often polite, though can, from time to time, be aloof or brusque with those in her company (which, admittedly, she doesn't keep much of anymore). At times, she may came across as self-righteous and tends to be extremely stubborn when she sets her mind to something. However, Elise tends to attempt keep to herself and avoids speaking beyond what she feels she must. Ever determined, she has not stopped adventuring since the Heroes' victory over Dekruvitomen and has developed a habit of drifting from place to place; accepting contracts from the Keepers or simply assisting the locals with their problems as she is able.
It is said that she used to be quick to laugh and quick to anger, mercurial in all aspects of her life...leading some to believe that, somewhere along the way, the Silver Glint lost her luster.
Affiliation: Nine Heroes {Former} Star-Crossed Company {Former}
Abilities: Runewielder, Genesis.
Elise has come to know well her Runes and utilize them to their fullest in combat. While most Genesis Runewielders tend to craft and create things from their Elemental Principle, Elise uses the Runes to augment herself (as well as her armor and rapier, from time to time) and increase her speed to nigh ludicrous levels; it is through this that she earned her title...along with her swordplay and flair for slaughter. Her Whisper is a simple word, over and over. "More" the Runes cry into her mind, bursting through and infiltrating her thoughts. More speed...more power...more blood.
History: It is unknown exactly when Elise's family left the Volanci heartlands and made their way into the small village of Oakheim. What is known, however, is that Elise was always seen with a blade in her hand; a blunted thing given to her by her father. An adventurer, himself, before a festering wound (inflicted by the foulest of Void Magic) took his left leg; 'reduced' (as he would say) to a simple blacksmith, though not one of incredible skill, he sought to shape his daughter into a true warrior...a valiant protector of the innocent, as he had been in his hayday. Little did the Titan of Meita know that he would succeed in a grand fashion. Without his guidance, it is impossible to tell what would have become of young Elise...without his knowledge of Runewielding and swordplay. With Theron (Elise's older brother) in Drasil, pursuing a life of mercenary work in the Star-Crossed Company and Emirra (Elise's mother) long deceased, Veiss (the Titan) doted on his daughter and pushed her every day to better herself...but also to better the lives of those around her.
At the age of thirteen she left home, at the behest of her father but spurred by her own eagerness to venture into the Drasilian heart...to Essia its self to find her brother and join the Star-Crossed Company. She rarely speaks of the few months it took her to traverse the Monster-ravaged countryside. It was only then that Elise began to understand why she had first picked up a blade. The Sundering was something rarely talked about in secluded Oakheim, where the local Mages took to creating wards against the Monsters and folk continued about their lives normally...albeit nervously. It is uncertain when she first saw a mortal die...or when she first killed a mortal, herself. Certain is the fact that she joined the Star-Crossed Company nearly one year after leaving home; though Theron had apparently already abandoned their group to head into the Dreamlands, seeking some Elven assassin that had made an attempt on his life mere days before her arrival.
In the employ of the Star-Crossed Company, Elise honed her skills against Monster and mortal alike...rising quickly in both Rank and prestige. This bit of renown did not earn her the title Silver Glint, but it did earn her the fight that would inevitably lead to the title being placed upon her head. Tempa, "the Firebrand", a fiery warrior of considerable skill and possessed of a deep passion for combat arrived at the Star-Crossed Company's Guild Hall as a herald of the Black Adder Guild; issuing a formal challenge from Cers. Tempa was to face a champion of Malik's (the leader of the Star-Crossed Company) choosing. Malik, impressed with Elise and eager to see Cers and the Black Adders bested on the field sent her forth without a second thought; accepting the duel and setting into motion events that would inevitably lead to the formation of the Nine Heroes.
As with all formal challenges, the duel was to take place in the Keeper's Amphitheater. With both Guilds gathered, the terms were set by Cers and Malik. There would be no duel to the death, but the losing faction would disband their Company and gain the others' champion. No hesitation met these terms, Malik and Cers both slavering at the idea of their rival's pride crushed before the gathered masses. The Keepers brought their Magic forth, ensuring that neither would suffer permanent injury; and the battle was joined.
Sparks and embers danced in the light of a setting sun, silver and flame meeting one another for the first time. Somewhere, in their duel...a friendship...a kinship formed. Their smiles were true and there was an unbridled joy in Elise's heart that drowned out the Whisper echoing through her mind. The woman before her was perhaps two years her elder and better suited to the warrior's life than she; a blur of orange and red that sought to slip through her silver slashing shield. Each blow was met with another, for what felt like hours; until the full moon blossomed overhead. Until that night, Elise had never faced her Shadow Self...and, perhaps, she would have succumbed to it...if not for Tempa's intervention.
Elise would not recall the spectacle, nor the surge of Monsters that followed in the wake. When she awoke, in Oakheim, sprawled in a familiar bed, The Silver Glint was the name now etched into her heart. Tempa informed her of this, after Veiss had assailed her with his affection and, to the disdain of the Titan and The Silver Glint, that the Star-Crossed Company had been declared disbanded. Balking at the notion of joining the Black Adders, Elise prepared herself for harsh life under Cers and his ilk. With a throaty laugh, Tempa dismissed the idea; explaining that she had no intention of letting someone like Elise join the Black Adder Guild...and that she had lost interest in the idea, herself, seeing riper opportunities in having The Silver Glint in her debt.
Yet, despite being nestled back in her home, in the company of her father and several familiar faces...Elise's heart was heavily restless. She had failed the Star-Crossed Company and, by way of her failure, caused one of the oldest Guilds in Drasil to be broken; its members cast to the wind, and simultaneously, though inadvertantly, in a way, spited the Black Adder himself (a man of great repute, for his cunning, combat prowess and lack of creativity). It did not sit well with her that she had been spirited from the Amphitheater, but, in truth, she felt a kinship with Tempa and much preferred her company over that of what she expected from the Black Adder.
The world outside of the small hamlet Elise had become so accustomed to was more warped during the time she had been rendered unconscious. Darkness now touched the land...almost palpable as it lingered and permeated all within Drasil. Mortals found themselves prone to indulging their dark thoughts and Shadow Selves became increasingly common. With the rise of the Shadow Selves came an abundance of murder and strife that the Divided Kingdoms had not witnessed in several centuries. Elise observed the change with horror, seemingly noticing it for the first time...and found hatred growing in her heart; a maliciousness born of righteous indignation, and swore upon that seeping stain on her soul that she would find a way to end it.
Time passed slowly, thoughts of the suffering world eating away at her. She was a swordswoman grown from strife, but the needling feelings that swirled within her demanded action; fear and determination rallied against what she feared to be an insurmountable foe. She knew that Eldra's Shadow had Sundered the Goddess of Compassion and Order nearly a decade ago; and plied his vile whims against the land she had once favored most. Yet, when had he ever shown himself to the mortals; aside from his grand, terrible invasion into the mortal world? Where was the Masked God hiding himself? What reason did he have to shy from the realm he, now, by all rights, claimed sovereignty over? Questions that gave her hope. Confiding in Tempa, she found solace...confiding in Veiss, she found an answer.
Her father was the first to utter the name in her presence. Though, she would later come to find that Kalayron had long been a figure of near mythical reputation amongst the Faithful of Eldra. Said to be her Avatar, the only one capable of truly drawing upon the power of the Goddess, he resided in a monastery hidden from the cruelty of the world; offering refuge to those who would still follow the Light that Eldra left behind. "The Protector", he was named...and it was he who would surely know how to combat the Dread Shadow. So it was that Elise had come to know of Asmosa, the original resting place of the Heartshard (before it was given to the Elves for protection, in years past, by the monks; fearing that Dekruvitomen would seek its destruction), and a holy place to the Faithful. Far to the north, in the scorched and shimmering expanses, where Monsters roamed in vast hordes and the land its self seemed to bend to the will of Darkness. Elise resolved, then, to seek out The Protector and his counsel. The Firebrand agreed eagerly to accompany her, lusting for an opportunity to pit herself against the most fearsome foe that the world had to offer.
When the two set forth from Oakheim, it is uncertain...some would say weeks, others mere days after Elise's vow to venture to Asmosa. And for some time it would go unnoticed that a Standing Stone (a relic left by the Beastkin, a simple stone...standing. s'pretty big.) in a secluded grove now bore two simple symbols etched into its smooth surface; an oath made in secret, a pact binding together two who would bind together nine. This Standing Stone would become the Stone of Nine, where each of the Nine Heroes engraved their symbol and swore their oath; once they had all been gathered. Tempa and Elise walked and fought, side by side, battling Monsters that would assail small hamlets...or deal with particularly fierce bandits on the roadside, help farmers replace their wagon wheels and all sorts of heroic (if sometimes seemingly excessively diminutive) minutiae, along their way to the vaunted monastery...to the Avatar of Eldra...to a solution.
Kalayron proved to be reserved about the two, glimpsing Tempa's sins and seeing the Darkness lingering within Elise. With some reluctance, and, according to some stories, after days of pleading from The Silver Glint, The Protector left his sanctuary with the two; erecting a barrier after his exit, allowing only those with benign intentions into the temple. He would draw the next of the Nine closer, proposing a plan to seek out a powerful True Mage taking refuge somewhere within Drasil. So, with nothing but a small lead, an increasingly close friend, and one of the most powerful priests in Kallore at her back, Elise set out for Essia.
The journey proved far less dangerous than expected, given their combined might; and within scant days they arrived at Essia's gates...only to find them aflame. While Essia had held firm against Monsters, the ire of Seralle was something far more than the Essian Guard could easily handle. Cast in the shadow of roaring, towering flames, slender lips let a smile pass over them; Seralle Of The Shadowed Countenance turned to the others and offered a humble bow, saying that she had been expecting to run into them. Pressed about the mounting flames at her back, Sera (as she preferred the diminutive, obviously...bc otherwise it's a mouthful) simply smiled and waved it away; stating that it was nothing more than a misunderstanding and that no one (aside from that poor gate) had or would be harmed by the flames. With a wave of her hand, she dispersed the blaze and laughed; offering her services to the group, for a nominal fee (though she never actually collected on her stated price...and what she actually stated is subject to speculation).
So smoothly had things progressed, that the inevitable snag (the first of many, actually) would finally be encountered.
No one knows what lies beneath the mirrored mask...even to this day, nor why he drew his blade against the gathered four. Yet he did, but not before the first of the Heroes had walked into a trap. Goldbrook was a village founded on the principle of mercantile; a bustling city in the midst of a river, suspended on wood and bound with ropes. It was here that a rumor had lead them, seeking an item (specifically a pendant) that was said to contain a Shard of Eldra that had been repurposed into a weapon...something capable of weakening Dekruvitomen, should he ever come into its radiance. They found the city silent, but not abandoned...countless bodies littered the streets; bloodless, but all prone, with no sign of a struggle. Elise and Tempa, helpless against whatever malady had been placed upon these people, stood watch as Kalayron and Sera began attempting all within their considerable power to awaken the slumbering (yes, really, they were all k.o'd).
He appeared from a distortion in the air, rays of the midday Sun glancing violently from his form in streaks of distorted light. His armor was strangely smooth, pulling in reflections from all around, though riddled with black fissures that distorted the images. His frame slight and sickly, to the estimation of those who beheld him. Though silent, the drawing of his blade (which, strangely, was not present when he appeared, but seemed to be pulled from the same distortion that still licked at the world around him) was challenge enough for those gathered. The Knight of Cracked Mirrors faced the four...and bested them. With a slight scoff, tossing his blade back into the ether, he finally spoke...in a voice that seemed almost alien, so absent was emotion or inflection in its tones. The Knight told them that there had never existed such a weapon...and that there never would. That the God of Chaos and Death would have to be slain by more difficult means. That they would have to Sunder him, as he had the Goddess. Before Elise could press the question of 'how?!', the Knight of Cracked Mirrors absconded; leaving no trace of his presence behind. With his vanishing, the people of Goldbrook awoke...with near instantaneity. Hailed as heroes, despite their thorough trouncing, they did not linger long in the city.
wip. tidying up. working on. be done soonsoonsoon.
edited again for like the thirtieth time; put some MORE history up, LOTS more to come. FIGURED i'd just MAKE HER HISTORY, LIKE, A HUGE EXPOSITION DUMP OR WHATEVER. SO PLEASE READ IT AND i...hope it's not awful...
