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Status

Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
I crave death
2 likes
2 yrs ago
Everything I learnt about NFTs have been non-consensual
2 likes
5 yrs ago
while(inDream=true) {otaku.salary()+=}
5 yrs ago
I don't know who this Boltzmann fella is but he owes me a physics test and a whole lotta trouble
5 yrs ago
Can someone please explain why my discords are on fire about this forum right now? I just woke up and I don't have enough coffee to read a bazillion status updates
2 likes

Bio



Most Recent Posts

Posting my character sheet proposal here. Hopefully I'm not too late.

Name: Ciern Perelion
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Appearance:
((Will attempt to find an approporiate picture))
Ciern's build is on the shorter, thinner side. He bears a quite a few bruises and scars, particularily burns along his left arm from abusing his fire magic too much. He does his best to cover it up with bandages and give off a clean look, trying to live up to the finer standards of the Iron Roses. It's unclear if it is really effective at hiding, or if his real reason is that he cannot bear the sight of them himself.
He smiles often out of courtesy, and his default expression is a peaceful but sombre smile. But careful observers will realize that he rarely does truely smile, and from time to time Ciern can be seen spacing out and looking off into the distance. Despite so, he insists it's nothing to worry about and simply that he is tired from travelling around.

Personality:
In a contrast to his past reputation, Ciern is a passive and soft-spoken knight. He reserves judgement and deliberates in many decisions in favour of listening to all opinions first. He is careful to not offend anyone, and generally avoids confrontation with allies or peers. Fiercely loyal to the Order and even more so to the Knight Commander, if pressed, Ciern is willing to fight to protect the Order and serve his purpose.
Ciern also suffers from a near debilitating levels of low self-esteem, and rarely rises to defend himself from insults, abuse or accusations. He can't take compliments and will have no idea how to respond to affection or praise, becoming confused or ignoring it entirely. His sense of guilt and inadequacy often prevents him from taking the initiative and acting out of line, and he feels it's best if it stays that way.
Others could mistake Ciern for someone with a weak will, but it's quite the opposite. Having survived several battles and years on the run, Ciern's determination and zealous pursuit is unrivalled; akin to a fading fire, dying but never fully extinguished. He believes that if life was hell, then he must live it to repent for what he had done, no matter how much hardship he must endure.
Otherwise, Ciern likes coffee and muffins, and thinks it's sacrilege to put raisins in any muffin, especially if it's the chocolate kind.

Brief Backstory:
Former knight of an smaller, lesser known order called the Order of Obsidian Judgement. The Order mostly kept to itself, fighting for the protection of a sacred mountain shrine. Although Ciern was still an initiate, he was spoken of as a prodigy for his prowess as a spellsword, wielding both close combat and arcane spells with devastating efficiency.
But for unknown reasons, the Obsidian Judgement ceased to communicate with the outside world. After a while, a scouting party was sent to investigate the silence; and found the Judgement's keep destroyed in a catacalysmic battle with no survivors. Further investigation found one note - that Ciern had set the keep on fire and destroyed the Order "to make an example", and that he was still alive and had escaped the battle.
After a few years, the former knight as captured. Although his sins were grave and Ciern refused to discuss his motivations for his actions, his skills as a fighter and genuine regret let him a special condition for the Order. In exchange for a life of fealty to the Iron Roses and pious repentance, Ciern was granted a shaky membership in this Order, though it was still a controversial decision viewed on many as too trusting of a former criminal.



Equipment:
Ciern's armor is a combination of a knight's plate armor and a mage's leather tunic, sacrificing outright protection in favour of a stronger affinity to magic and higher mobility. Its silver gleam and simple red decorations are devoid of any flair, save for the Iron Rose crest on its breastplate. It is polished and clean, if not scratched and well-worn from long term use. His left gauntlet is replaced with a glove with indents and channeling runes to serve as a focus for his spells, as well as handle more delicate objects. Ciern also carries a standard-issue sidesword with no outstanding modifications, as well as a dagger for general purposes.
Though Ciern has memorized the incantations for his spells, he keeps a tough parchment and pen to note down new incantations he comes across.

Skills:
As a spellsword, Ciern is trained extensively in both swordsmanship and arcane arts - and weaving the two together in one fluid style, he is a devastating, chaotic combatant and lends credance to those who considered him a prodigy. Ciern's fighting style is a mixture of both observation and aggression. Although he will attempt to learn and study his opponents before making committing moves, he has no trouble switching quickly to an aggressive style once he had adequately learnt his opponent. He will relentlessly pressure his opponents with quick parries and ripostes, attempting to outmaneavour his enemies and give them no time to retaliate.
Ciern's spells focus the chaotic spectrum of magic, specifically, fire and lightning. High in pure destructive power but also carrying risks of self-injury and mana upkeep, Ciern mostly limits himself to small-scale projectiles in conjunction with his swordplay to further add pressure to his opponents. However, Ciern is reluctant to use offensive magic and has since abstained from using magic unless truly desperate.

Other than battles, Ciern is fantastic at cleaning and general housework, having put on household duties several times when he was a part of the Obsidian Judgement because of his magic having the tendancy of being a little too destructive. He seems a little embarrassed of this, but will not object if asked to employ his skills.
Hello, just airdropped from OOC, looks interesting!
Are there background qualifications for the knights? As in, no former criminals, convicts, etc?
Is this still open for newbies?
Idk if I will join, but respect for amount you put into this and encouraging other ancient societies man.
Callum nodded and mentally pumped his fist. Kellin's response confirmed his suspicion. He had met a few of them on his many escapades, his younger self desperately wanting to hang out with the "cool kids", and his intuition from the experience didn't fail him this time. He still found the street kids cool, like brave pioneers against a cruel circumstance. Unlike himself, all coddled in the despicable opulence, though he guessed his circumstance was just a different kind of bad luck.

He scratched his neck and straightened back up. He felt bit more confident in telling his past to Kellin. "My old man kicked me out, so I reckoned to come here instead." He said candidly and laughed like it was a bad joke, though there was a tang of bitterness Callum couldn't erase. He was glad, he was sure of it. "It was bad in there, anyway."

He followed everyone else to the Welcoming Committee. Most of their introductions flew over his head, but he was interested in the alteration teacher. She wore a rather interesting choice of clothes and sandals, looking like she just flew over from Osuun with her traditional clothing. She didn't look like the punchy sort alteration teacher, but who knew. Nonetheless, he would probably see her quite a bit, so he just grinned as her eyes scanned over his direction.

As he looked around the place, he did find himself a bit queasy. Though he knew they were two separate places, the Perenias Castle and the Academy did feel similar in scale and architecture. Callum took a sip from his flask. He'll just have to get used to it.

He spotted an Osuunese boy (or Callum guessed, judging from the clothing) hurrying over from the airship and waved at him, to let him know that the main group was still here. And just in case he got lost. Callum knew he sure would be, though admittedly Callum's pathfinding skills were probably below average.

@baraquiel
@DrowsyPangolin
"Callum." He took the handshake. He got a better look at Kellin, now that he was closer. Definitely a main dispeller, seeing as the staff was not the only lead thing that the boy was carrying. Most likely some sort of lead manipulator, though Callum heard that such were rare. Callum's extent of lead usage was a foci, and it was really just a tool to counter ranged attacks.

Callum recognized the subtle hints within Kellin's mannerisms. They weren't noticeable or notable at a glance, but taken together, it was clear to Callum, who peered into this side of the world that his family desperately refused. The accent, the confidence, rough edges and the way he carried himself. This boy used to be street leader, Callum's gut feeling said. And Callum agreed.

"So, how'd you come here?" Callum asked, testing to confirm suspicions, before getting interrupted by the bell. "Arrived, huh." He rubbed his neck. Well, he had no luggage, so he could walk straight through. He waited for Kellin to see if he had any luggage to attend to.
Callum was about to respond to Xanara before being interrupted by the rather oddly dressed woman popping up and introducing herself. The head assistant, apparently. She looked rather flamboyant, though he was more interested in her magic. He had heard of teleporting before, but to see someone spontaneously and freely manage the discipline was impressive to see. Teleportation, temporal warping...Callum puffed one side of his cheek and jokingly pouted to himself.

Well Judge, what were you saying about meeting people like me, eh? Where the boxers at?

Or the Judge was taking the mick of him when he said that. Or he was hoping too much to find those like him just in the arrival ship. Yeah, that was probably it. The world of magic was diverse, after all, and he had to admit that he took up a niche corner.

He nodded as Xanara moved along to Linxi, and noticed her...popping? She disappeared, though there were faint distortions in her wake. He frowned and searched around the room, to no avail. In a few more moments, he saw her back in the room, next to the assistant. Hmm. He guessed she wasn't as in grasp with her spacial abilities, and popped up in the wrong place or something. He secretly was glad he didn't take her offer.

He guffawed and moved along the groups of students. Everyone seemed to be fraternising, anyway, so he guessed he should say hello to some folk, too. He looked around and saw a girl guarded by a group of shadowed creatures, talking to a boy with a book. Warlocks, he guessed. He weren't afraid of demons or the warlocks who made a pact with them, but there was a feeling of unease about it to Callum. And the fact that the figures looked so otherworldly didn't help.

He turned away and idly stared at the bumbling students, leaning against a railing, looking for others. Huh. He spotted a boy carrying dull metal equipment. He looked down at his own bracelet. Lead. Definitely lead. He wandered over and nodded with a grin. "Hey there! You're a dispeller too?" He held up his bracelet, hoping to strike a connection.

@DrowsyPangolin
Callum gave a low whistle as he watched the world around them slowed down like a flip book winding down to just pages at a time. Callum was impressed, he had to admit. He was expecting some weird trick like, "I can read your mind" sort of deal, but this was a surprise to be sure.

Sure glad she's just using it for dancing...

He made sure to keep in contact with Xanara (which he assumed was what let him be in this temporal distortion), but stretched above other other students and watched as someone yawned in slow motion, as if waking up from the longest sleep ever.

"Well, this does make me look lame in comparison, heh." He mumbled to himself. Though he had no intention of learning the secrets of this magic, it was quite a skill to have. He turned back to Xanara. "So can you do other stuff? Like speed up time instead?" He grinned and joked, "I am itching to see the landing soon."
Callum scratched his head. It's one of those folk, huh. Callum did have his own views on the matter, though he wasn't eloquent enough to express it, and couldn't be bothered enough to have a sudden philosophical discussion. Plus, he was hardly one to be swayed by said discussion, so what gives?

"Just umm, think of it as self-expression." He said simply, and left it at that. Hopefully that should suffice and tide him over.

Psychics. He had heard all sorts of strange and rather unsettling things about psychics gone awry. Expending too much of their mind, throwing their own sanity out of wack. Subjugating people into living puppets, or just convincing them to do terrible deeds with a whisper. Probably all false, though his family loved to toot that horn.

And now, he was offered a hand by one he just met.

Eh, what's the worst that could happen?

He took it.
"Oh, right. Name's Callum. Callum Perenias."
House Perenias was rather famous in northern Cresia, particularily due to their political ties with the Cresian ruling rank. After their contribution of arcane firepower in the Great War, they were granted much of the wealth and reputation they hold tightly today. They were known for their fierce elemental magic and pious intent. Unfortunately, they were also known for their lavish conservatism. Fortunately, Callum was already disowned and falsely labelled as a bastard anyway, so he couldn't care less. And to Callum's hope, "Perenias" wouldn't be known to Xanara. Or anyone in here, for that matter.
"I'm here because uh..."

1. My asshole parents kicked me out.

2. It's here or I go to the slums.

3. I want to stick it to all the doubters.

"...I want to learn more about alteration and dispelling to fight better." Callum chuckled at his own dilemma. "Yeah, let's go with that." There would be no need to necessarily hide his reluctant reasons, but no need to mention them either. Callum was thick, but he knew enough not to dump practical strangers with information.

"And you're..." Callum surveyed Xanara. She didn't dress like a mage. (Then again, neither did he.) He skipped necromancer and artificer. She leant on the more shaman-psyhic area. He had met very few shaman (shamen? Shawomen? He had no idea) before, so it was more of a blank guess. "Are you a shaman?"

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