Avatar of DrowsyPangolin
  • Last Seen: 5 yrs ago
  • Old Guild Username: DemonicPastry
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 583 (0.15 / day)
  • VMs: 0
  • Username history
    1. DrowsyPangolin 11 yrs ago

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

@Moyai I'm sure there's a way that can work, how were you thinking about doing it?

@Timemaster Looks mostly good, there's just one thing, and its my fault tbh. I didn't explain the rankings on the stats very well in the OP. Basically, an S-rank is like top-tier, best-in-the-world level ability. It'd be unlikely for her to be quite that skilled already, though she could certainly get to that point. I would lower the S to maybe an A or a B and it should be good. Other than that though, she looks good, I'm a fan of the Phantosmia ability especially.

[@Everyone] I'm going to add an explanation for the stat rankings in the OP, and also I'll be adding another section to the stats: Control, which just covers your character's ability to control their powers. I had meant to add it originally, but I realized I forgot about it
@Lord of Evil

Great old oneesque demon

All tentacles all the time :3


Oh dear.

@Lord of Evilits certainly possible for them to physically manifest, though it would cause instant uproar if it happened publicly. As for what it would take, that would depend on the Demons situation. Basically, in the past there were several Demons, many physically manifested, that kinda ruled over humanity. Eventually humans developed sealing magic to imprison/weaken them. If your Demon were from that time period, it might require the seal to be broken/weakened to physically appear. If it were a later Demon, it might currently be able to manifest and is biding it’s time, or maybe is recovering from damage it sustained in its previous home plane. Really, it’s a case-by-case basis. Although, do keep in mind that a demon physically manifesting, especially one the powers that be didn’t know about, would probably be perceived as a super major threat
@PigeonOfAstora Muscle wizard is an entirely viable option! As far as the alteration magic goes, it can definitely reach superhuman levels, though in a student it probably wouldn’t be at an insane level just yet.

@Lord of Evil So pact magic in general would be the rituals and knowledge necessary to make a pact with something like a Demon. Not every Warlock would necessarily make use of it, since you have some who kind of end up in a pact by accident. However, pact magic also includes any special kinds of magic specific to the Demon you have a contract with. So if your Demon had a particular theme or concept that you wanted to reflect in your characters abilities, that would fall under pact magic.
Both of those concepts sound great! I like that Demon concept as well, seems like you’ve got the right idea. I’d totally be down for either of those characters, or both, if you wanted to run multiples. Either way, if you need any help with anything let me know!@ShwiggityShwah

Sure thing, sounds good! And no rush, should have plenty of time.@Lord of Evil
Awesome, happy to see you guys are interested! I've got the OOC up and running, so feel free to post any of your character ideas over there!

roleplayerguild.com/topics/177833-ark…
Arkus Academy


Aged spires of ancient stone peeked over the lush treeline, the glass of their vaulted windows glinting softly in the early morning light. Mist still hung hazy over the lake. From a distance, perhaps, the view would echo the prestigious and mysterious reputation of the old school. The spired administrative building cut the image of some ancient church or castle, an imposing and beautiful piece of architecture. The pale marble walls shown pink in the morning sun. Great prisms rotated on the tips of the building’s numerous spires, sending twirling cascades of multi-colored light pouring down onto the campus. The great gates already stood open for the day, revealing the rune-engraved red marble floor of the great hall. Golems and automatons busied themselves with preparing a host of decorations, as well as situating the stage that stood at the far end of the room. The ceremony had been repeated in a similar fashion for hundreds of years, and today it would be repeated again.

Despite the early hour, the campus was beginning to spark with life. Everywhere, decorations were being put up: brilliant streamers swam through the air like eels, multi colored willowisps fluttered about through the crisp fall air. The academy’s famous library, a great tower containing an unknowable number of texts, had begun to awake as well. Metallic wings propelled bird-shaped golems as they saw to replacing any defects amongst the thousands of gemstones that lined the exterior wall of the library. At night, the gems would glow, turning the tower into a pillar of gleaming color. It was for this curious decoration that the library was famously known as the Tower of Lights.

Soft, lilting music began to fill the air. Nowhere was this less appreciated than the series of buildings on the south end of campus. Blurry-eyed upperclassmen fumbled their way out of their dormitories, not particularly excited about the earlier-than-usual wakeup call. Still too groggy to even consider going out to greet the new students, they instead made their way to the cafeteria, which had been steadily serving breakfast since before the sun rose. Though not as awe-inspiring as some of the other buildings on campus, the low, red brick building had an air of comfort within its walls that was no doubt strengthened by the intoxicating scents that always floated from its doors.

The Hall of Instruction, a large building constructed seamlessly of smooth, black stone, was abuzz about the upcoming ceremony as well. Despite being in the shade of the great forest that surrounded the academy, the building was nevertheless vibrant and alive. Hundreds of butterflies flapped around the yard outside of the building, and vines bearing color-changing flowers had sprung up along the walls overnight. Instructors milled about the yard, some less amused by the decorative elements than others.

Even the forest seemed wholesome and comfortable. Birds sang in celebration of the morning, chipmunks and squirrels chittered and raced about through the trees, and silent nature spirits drifted through the trees, enveloping the woodlands in an aura of calm and serenity. A few curious eyes even peered through branches as the academy awoke in earnest.

While the rest of academy prepared for jubilation, the magi and constructs at the airship landing worked tirelessly to prepare for the newcomers. Obviously, the landing was the newest addition to the academy, a wide clearing of bright green grass lined by a low wall. The field had been landscaped flawlessly, and numerous carts and wagons were being produced to ferry the newcomer’s belongings to their new dormitories.

Indeed, the entire campus seemed united in the process of making the academy as welcoming as possible to the young spellcasters who would soon be making it their home. This fervor was more than a show of hospitality however, they had an ancient and influential reputation to contend with. For centuries Arkus Academy had instructed the magically inclined youth of Cresia, producing some of the most impressive spellcasters in the nation’s history. In recent years, however, the academy had begun welcoming students from the surrounding nations as well, a symbolic gesture to honor the peacetime following The Last War. This new policy had brought even more attention to the school, making the importance of a good first impression even more critical. Times had changed wildly, but the academy would continue to stand as an institute of learning, always seeking to reveal the secrets of the world to any student devoted enough to find them.




Hello everyone, and welcome to Arkus Academy! As you’ve probably gathered, this thread centers around an academy that trains spellcasters. New students are arriving at Arkus to study the arcane arts at one of the most prestigious academies for magic in the world. If you have any questions or need any assistance with making a character, I’ll be more than happy to help!

Rules:
1:No autohitting/autokilling another character
2: Please be civil OOC, if there’s a problem I’m sure we can work something out
3: All player characters should be between the ages of 12 and 18 and be first-years at the academy
4: Take care not to make your character too overpowered, don’t worry, they’ll get stronger over time.
5: You can start with up to two magic specializations at the beginning. Of course, this doesn’t mean you can’t learn more later.
6: Having multiple spellcasting classes is possible, but very rare. Most spellcasters will only have one class, but we’ll handle exceptions on a case-by-case basis.

Other Information













Arkus Academy


Aged spires of ancient stone peeked over the lush treeline, the glass of their vaulted windows glinting softly in the early morning light. Mist still hung hazy over the lake. From a distance, perhaps, the view would echo the prestigious and mysterious reputation of the old school. The spired administrative building cut the image of some ancient church or castle, an imposing and beautiful piece of architecture. The pale marble walls shown pink in the morning sun. Great prisms rotated on the tips of the building’s numerous spires, sending twirling cascades of multi-colored light pouring down onto the campus. The great gates already stood open for the day, revealing the rune-engraved red marble floor of the great hall. Golems and automatons busied themselves with preparing a host of decorations, as well as situating the stage that stood at the far end of the room. The ceremony had been repeated in a similar fashion for hundreds of years, and today it would be repeated again.

Despite the early hour, the campus was beginning to spark with life. Everywhere, decorations were being put up: brilliant streamers swam through the air like eels, multi colored willowisps fluttered about through the crisp fall air. The academy’s famous library, a great tower containing an unknowable number of texts, had begun to awake as well. Metallic wings propelled bird-shaped golems as they saw to replacing any defects amongst the thousands of gemstones that lined the exterior wall of the library. At night, the gems would glow, turning the tower into a pillar of gleaming color. It was for this curious decoration that the library was famously known as the Tower of Lights.

Soft, lilting music began to fill the air. Nowhere was this less appreciated than the series of buildings on the south end of campus. Blurry-eyed upperclassmen fumbled their way out of their dormitories, not particularly excited about the earlier-than-usual wakeup call. Still too groggy to even consider going out to greet the new students, they instead made their way to the cafeteria, which had been steadily serving breakfast since before the sun rose. Though not as awe-inspiring as some of the other buildings on campus, the low, red brick building had an air of comfort within its walls that was no doubt strengthened by the intoxicating scents that always floated from its doors.

The Hall of Instruction, a large building constructed seamlessly of smooth, black stone, was abuzz about the upcoming ceremony as well. Despite being in the shade of the great forest that surrounded the academy, the building was nevertheless vibrant and alive. Hundreds of butterflies flapped around the yard outside of the building, and vines bearing color-changing flowers had sprung up along the walls overnight. Instructors milled about the yard, some less amused by the decorative elements than others.

Even the forest seemed wholesome and comfortable. Birds sang in celebration of the morning, chipmunks and squirrels chittered and raced about through the trees, and silent nature spirits drifted through the trees, enveloping the woodlands in an aura of calm and serenity. A few curious eyes even peered through branches as the academy awoke in earnest.

While the rest of academy prepared for jubilation, the magi and constructs at the airship landing worked tirelessly to prepare for the newcomers. Obviously, the landing was the newest addition to the academy, a wide clearing of bright green grass lined by a low wall. The field had been landscaped flawlessly, and numerous carts and wagons were being produced to ferry the newcomer’s belongings to their new dormitories.

Indeed, the entire campus seemed united in the process of making the academy as welcoming as possible to the young spellcasters who would soon be making it their home. This fervor was more than a show of hospitality however, they had an ancient and influential reputation to contend with. For centuries Arkus Academy had instructed the magically inclined youth of Cresia, producing some of the most impressive spellcasters in the nation’s history. In recent years, however, the academy had begun welcoming students from the surrounding nations as well, a symbolic gesture to honor the peacetime following The Last War. This new policy had brought even more attention to the school, making the importance of a good first impression even more critical. Times had changed wildly, but the academy would continue to stand as an institute of learning, always seeking to reveal the secrets of the world to any student devoted enough to find them.




Hello everyone, and welcome to Arkus Academy! As you’ve probably gathered, this thread centers around an academy that trains spellcasters. New students are arriving at Arkus to study the arcane arts at one of the most prestigious academies for magic in the world. If you have any questions or need any assistance with making a character, I’ll be more than happy to help!

Rules:
1:No autohitting/autokilling another character
2: Please be civil OOC, if there’s a problem I’m sure we can work something out
3: All player characters should be between the ages of 12 and 18 and be first-years at the academy
4: Take care not to make your character too overpowered, don’t worry, they’ll get stronger over time.
5: You can start with up to two magic specializations at the beginning. Of course, this doesn’t mean you can’t learn more later.
6: Having multiple spellcasting classes is possible, but very rare. Most spellcasters will only have one class, but we’ll handle exceptions on a case-by-case basis.

Other Information











Rider

The Winter Palace


Rider held her breath as the projectiles tore through the air toward the charging viking. Several of the weapons sparked harmlessly against the unstoppable force of Berserker’s club, but even a force of nature such as he could not overcome the sheer volume of the attack. Blades found flesh, and the indomitable warrior dropped to the ground, still glaring at the Empress.

Catherine let out a shaky breath. At this range it was clear just how pale and exhausted she looked. Despite the glittering exterior of imperial confidence, she had clearly been pushed to her limits. The arm Berserker’s club had shattered earlier still hung limply at her side. Her remaining arm weakly gripped the hilt of her borrowed broadsword, its rusted blade shivering slightly as she held it aloft. As she stared at her fallen opponent, she noticed the change in her opponent. The mad warrior had seemed unstoppable earlier, a crystallization of unbridled rage and destruction… but something had weakened him. The Empress’ golden eyes surveyed the fallen titan before her. Whatever had sapped his strength, it had almost certainly saved her.

The glittering gems of Catherine’s crown began to dim and rapidly fade away. Her eyes flickered from a brilliant gold to a cool silver, peering into the furious coals that still burned in Berserker’s visage. She dared not move for fear of dropping on the spot. The last assault had drained her more than she’d predicted, and she could feel her sense becoming dulled by the second. She slowly lowered the shaking blade, drawing in a ragged breath.

“Farewell, Heathen King.”

The Empress’ gaze slowly drifted from her fallen opponent, looking back toward the crowd that had nervously watched the commotion behind her. Turning her head, she gave them a weak smile. Even in her exhausted state, there was something reassuring in her smile, a warmth that inspired the heart and soothed even the fiercest of anxieties. She watched as the worried faces began to form into nervous smiles and looks of amazement.

Unfortunately, these smiles were not to last.

The eyes of the crowd shot open in a unified expression of abject terror. Rider turned in time to see the risen Berserker dashing forward, but not in time to avoid his outstretched hand.

“KORONA VECH-”

The true name of her crown died in her throat, a faint flicker of energy all she was able to draw in before her opponent cut her off. Savage fingers clenched around her throat. Her lungs burned, starving for air as her feet raised from the palace floor. Desperation ran through every vein like molten iron. Her feet kicked at empty air in futile protest. The pitted blade of the broadsword hacked wildly at the madman’s rigid arm as hot blood began to pool in her throat. Her silver eyes fought desperately against the smothering darkness that was rapidly clouding them.

Numbness arced through her limbs like lightning. Her head buzzed wildly, and the ringing in her ears only grew more excruciating by the moment. Fingers tightened around her throat like an iron vice. Her vision blurred. Again, she raked the broadsword out at Berserker’s flesh.

The hilt slipped from her hand. Borrowed steel clattered to the ground. Weak fingers clawed at the hand that gripped her throat. The voice that echoed in her head was only vaguely familiar in her shuddering mind.

“Master… help…”
Rocco Moretti

A Baseball Field

Teeth clenched around a cigarette filter, digging into the paper as the unnerving cry of the alien monstrosity assaulted Rocco’s eardrums. His hand tossed away a spent magazine, grasping for another to continue suppressing fire. Too slow. An unknowable smell inflamed his nostrils as slick, misshapen fingers boiled away, constricting themselves numbly around the smoking barrel of his weapon. Another twisted limb emerged from the amorphous mass, malformed talons reaching out, grasping, greedy.

The flash of runelight saved him. Saber’s barrier halted the creature’s advance on the spot, tearing slimy limbs from bubbling body. Rocco shook ruined, wriggling digits from the barrel of his weapon as the abomination swung out with its writhing arms, hungry hands slapping harmlessly against the shield. Rocco slammed another magazine into his rifle, the charging handle coming back with a satisfying metallic click. The Magus nodded appreciatively to his Servant.

Saber’s blade struck out with animal savagery, rending flesh and steel, cutting away the ruined body of the vehicle and separating twitching hands from their limbs. As the prison of the Town Car was cast aside, however, Rocco became aware of the halted reality that surrounded them. Figures froze in place, staring blankly in an infinite moment. Something was very wrong.

Steely eyes hid a primal terror as Rocco surveyed the convulsing mass before them. Fingers tightly gripped polymer. Another burst of gunfire barked in rebellion against the otherworldly silence. “Saber, get ready to drop the barrier. I’m gonna to give you some space. Kill this… whatever the fuck it is.”

The Magus closed his eyes and focused. His father had always accused him of focusing on the wrong elements of Magecraft. The old man had been critical of his pragmatism, only picking up the bits and pieces of magical learning that seemed beneficial. He’d never been much of a scholar, but in those early days his father had taught him some things of note. For once, he’d do the old man proud.

Runelight faded. The creature drew back before them.

“Raffica.”

Magical energy surged through the ex-hitman’s body like ice-cold water slipping through his veins. An explosive gust of wind surged from beneath Rocco’s feet, sending him sailing backward as the monster lurched forward.

“Piuma.”

Rocco floated harmlessly to the ground several yards away, his body drifting easily through the air. As his boots met with the pavement, he let out another volley of lead from his Kalashnikov before making a beeline for a nearby alley. The weight-reducing effect of his previous magecraft still held, and each footfall propelled him several feet forward. He looked back as he reached the alleyway, watching as the hero stared down the monster.




Rider

The Winter Palace


Marble crumbled under savage footfalls as Berserker flung himself across the dimly lit foyer. Damaged as he was, his determination would not be quelled. For the smallest moment, the Empress felt a tinge of respect for the mad warrior’s refusal to retreat. Whether drenched in madness or not, such a will was something worth admiring… and worth testing to its fullest extent. Gleaming gold eyes watched as the floor cracked beneath the approaching viking.

One.

Borrowed tactics informed the Empress’ plan. It would have to be at the perfect moment. The slightest hesitation would doom her, a impatience and haste would do the same. Rider clutched the broadsword, holding it aloft before her. The blackened steel of the cannon glowed red in the darkened room, magical energy pushing them to their limits. Electricity crackled over the shuddering barrels, arcing across the smooth marble of the floor.

Two.

The diamonds on Catherine’s crown cast an aureole of crystalline light around her face. Embers awoke into a flourish of golden flame across the Rider’s tattered uniform, replacing it with a flowing dress of silk dyed royal purple. Jewels gleamed like snowflakes across its surface. Despite her battered state and utter exhaustion, the Empress stood steadfast as the charging madman drew nearer and nearer. A proud smile fell upon the queen’s face, lips curling in monarchic arrogance, even in the face of sudden death.

Three.

“Огонь!” Like a storm cloud split asunder all four of the guns roared to life. The oversaturation of magical energy send deep cracks branching through their bores. The heat collapsed their forms. The barrels burst under the sheer overcharged force of the blast, propelling their payload with the desperation of a final breath tempered into a defiant shout. An avalanche of appropriated steel flooded the air. A grapeshot of Noble Phantasms exploded from the bores of the guns. Swords, daggers, spears, and arrows sailed through the air, their steel glowing white-hot. The very weapons that Berserker had rained down on the crowd had now been turned against him, his gifts returned in a thundering delivery.

The flashes of the exploding guns illuminated the image of the Russian queen, framing her against a backdrop of flame. In that singular moment of blinding light, lips shaped unhearable words, and Rider’s golden irises met the gaze of the charging Berserker.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet