Invisible

Starless

And thus a hero awakens to find grave robbers in her family tomb... sounds like fun thing to find after being dead nearly forty-two thousand years.

Starless

The Rise of An Ancient Hero

The dull thrumming of what could only be identified as chanting rang through the cell which the lone woman sat in. She was Pricia, the Beast of the Forests, and was due to for an execution. She always felt that this would be how her life would come to an end. It was expected that one who could shapeshift would face persecution wherever their powers were known but never did Pricia think that the same people she save a few weeks earlier would wish to kill her. It was always the thoughts of slighted warlords and merchants whose plans were thwarted by the little girl who was no more intimidating than a little kid which led to her death. Afterall, wouldn’t a man known if nearly fifty separate villages want revenge on a girl who beat them? But, even with the unexpected way of her death coming at her, Pricia had already forgiven the people of the village and was at peace with her death. In the end, Pricia knew she would be welcomed into the Great Forest which Goethia had promised her.

The cell door opened and a guard entered as timidly as a squirrel would approach a man offering food. He was obviously afraid of the woman but he had no reason to fear her for she had no reason to resist his simple directions. “G..g..get up you monster! I...i...it’s time for your execution!” The man shouted as he held his spear down towards her. If he was more calm, the spear’s tip would be pointed right at her throat but his current state made it so that it was waving all over the place.

"Your spear is all over the place, love. If I wished to resist, I would only need to dodge what would most certainly be a missing jab. But lead that way dear, I have a meeting with my Goddess.” said Pricia as she stood up and moved towards the door. The walk of shame began down a long, dank corridor built of wood and stone. Each step was closer towards the end and a tightness in her chest nearly caused her to panic. It wasn’t the fear of death which was causing it but the realization that those who she had called friends would be hunted and killed simply due to their association with her.

The blinding bright sunlight which exists at noon was the first of a very few things which the Hero would seen. Man thoughts ran through her mind as time seemingly slowed down and the officiary of her execution announced her ‘crimes’ against the people. Would she be remember as a hero or a monster when she was long gone? Who would even remember of her existence? Her family? Her Friends? Who would care to remember the history of a woman known as a monster? Goethia was her reprieve in the afterlife. She was like the mother who loved Pricia no matter what she was, who she was with, nor how she acted. There was a great sadness in her heart that she had failed, she had not brought the world to peace.

Above her stood a single man dressed in all black and wearing a mask which covered all his features. He was to kill her and yet, he felt a great sadness as he looked down at the young girl who was to die. Tears welled up in his eyes which only the closest observer, Pricia included, could see.”Worry not for the lives you must take but for the lives you save by taking them. It is a great sadness for hundreds to die just because one wasn’t killed. I am no exception to this matter. Take my life and show them that you are worth the title you hold of Executioner.” Pricia stated with all the kindness that the world had ever seen from her. She may have known herself as a hero but even a hero must day so that people may carry on through the world. With a single movement the blade of the executioner’s sword came down, reaving neck from body.

Darkness consumed Pricia’s vision until a flash of light blinded her. She was in a forest at night populated by all the creatures. It was a true beauty and one which the young girl gladly welcomed. She sat in the top of the trees and meditated to the sound of wind. But something felt wrong. The light beyond her lids were getting darker and the wind was dying. The wind quickly became replaced by a harsh whisper. Her eyes opened to find the forest corrupted and dying, the stars gone except for one, and her body bound to the trees by vines.

”Come back to the World of the Living Hero of Goethia.”

The young hero awoke to utter darkness and a searing pain in her neck, almost as if a fire were burning there. Such an odd dream she had while she was meditating. Yet, as she tried to sit up her head smacked against solid stone. Panic set in and all of Pricia’s control slipped away as she transformed into a large humanoid wolf and threw the stone away as she stood up. She quickly transformed back after being blinded by a bright light and looked around at her surroundings. She was in a tomb and, ancient though it was, Pricia had a feeling that this was a place she should recognize. It wasn’t until all the dust settled that she saw something which nearly stopped her heart.

’Here lies Sir Darian and Madam Maria of Bolgaria.’

Her...her parents coffins lay right before her which meant she was in her family’s tomb. But that was impossible, she was dead and never would Goethia torture Pricia like this. It wasn’t until she looked down and saw that her clothes were crumbling as if nearly aged for thousands of years. “Hey! What was that sound?” called a voice from outside the tomb.

“I don’t fracking know Jerald! We are suppose to be alone here. Ain’t nobody know where this rotting castle is otherwise.”

People were in the tomb but why were they calling a rotting castle. None of this made sense but Pricia had no time to ponder any of her questions as two grave robbers walked into the room. They stopped at the sight of Pricia standing in the coffin which she was entombed in and stared at the stone slab on the floor. “Ey brother, they told legends of a woman who could shapeshift didn’t they?” said the tallest of the grave robbers, a man most likely no older than twenty-six and obviously hadn’t eaten in weeks. His brother, a rather portly and obviously drunk man, nodded in affirmation while he backed up. They were both afraid of the woman who now stood before them, knowing not that she had been died up to this point nor that she meant no harm.

”What...year is it?” Pricia barely eked out as her vocal cords struggled to make any sound whatsoever.

Starless

Now I feel the urge to change the time when my character was alive as well. I feel as if she would be an ancient hero rather than one more recent. That aside, I am going to be pretty much polishing up Pricia's skills and abilities as well as refining her Mythology and adding more to it. Probably will change the last two paragraphs of it as well, didn't quite like how they are written now that I look at them.

Starless

Beast of the Forest



Theme

N A M E / A L I A S

Pricia

Beast of the Forest & The Fair Maiden

A g e o f L e g e n d

41,692 years ago



M Y T H O L O G Y

Ancient myth tells of a man who possessed the soul of a giant beast of the forest known as a Torgarian allowing him to become one with the creature. This man was a knight, a king in fact who thirst was not for blood, nor money, nor power but for the peace which all but never existed in the lands now known as Ansus. Rather than kill the opponents he fought on the battlefields of a castle formerly known as the Borgar Village, he would fight using nothing but his palms and would focus on hitting pressure points to paralyze his foes. Borgar Village is no more than a castle now ran over by vines and ancients creatures which supposedly guard the tomb of this king. Some say his bloodline still runs through somebody in the East Ansus but once again, this is all just a myth.

And even a myth has its own fallacies, ones often picked up over time by misinterpreted words or the slight change in them to suit the times and those who rule over the group telling the myth. The truth can indeed be found in Borgar Castle which hides under the shadow of the Lone Mountain known as Urgain, or King’s Crown in the language of the Borgarians who once lived there. Written on a single tombstone, faded by time and the many passing of beasts and man alike, lies the below.

Here lies Princess Pricia, heir to the Borgarian throne and Strongest of her Kind.

Princess Pricia.. she died much younger than she should have but that is what happens to heroes who are seen as monsters. Even if your intentions were of the best for your people, one cannot escape the mob started by a rumor created by some drunkard in a tavern. The princess is truly the ‘man’ of myth who possess the soul of a Torgarian, or Shapeshifter as they were known in the tongue of the Borgarians. Having been born with the Mark of the Wild, Pricia was granted the power of shapeshifting by the Goddess Goethia, Queen of the Wilds. As such, Pricia could change between many creatures as part of her birthright but she could not always control them. When she was very young, Pricia would occasionally shapeshift into a wolf and try to play with people in this form, not knowing the she was any different from them of course.

When the young Pricia was nine years of age, she was sent away to the Monastery of Goethia- less a monastery really than a giant tree growing above a lake where Goethia’s worshippers lived- to train and control her powers. All members of the Monastery were marked by Goethia as Pricia was but their powers only allowed them to ‘commune’ with Goethia through the act of rituals involving incense burning. The young princess spent much of her life learning with the Priestesses before leaving at nineteen and swearing a vow to tell nobody of her training with them nor of her powers. But when the time came that her small Village came under combat, Pricia had to transform into a direwolf and defend them. When it came out that the Princess was the person who had attacked them early on in her life, she was driven from Boragar and went off into the turbulent world alone.

At least, that is what she thought she was when she left the comforts of her village and went into the roads beyond. Goethia contact Pricia herself and called her to take up arms against those who wished for war simply for the death it would bring. So, the princess spread across the lands which have now become Ansus and brought down groups of bandits and warlords whose only goals were to cause chaos. To aid Pricia on her Journey, Goethia gave the young woman the Staff of Nature’s Breath. But not even the Goddess could foresee the Fair Maiden’s death at the hands of people who believed her a monster simply due to a single rumor. In the end, the last sight Pricia saw was that of a crowd cheering to cut her head off. Not even a single person shed tears that day for her parents were dead, her village falling apart, and any friends she had were due for an execution as well. Yet still, her body was delivered back to castle where she was born and she was buried.



A P P E A R A N C E

Pricia stands at an unimposing four feet and eight inches tall and weighs just under ninety-two pounds. Despite her looks, Pricia’s body is all muscle and her training with the priestesses of Goethia taught her how to fight without having to be much stronger than your foe. The girl is light on her feet and hardly makes a sound as she moves through the world. But this does not mean that she doesn’t stand out of course. Pricia is known for wearing vibrant green robes and clothing which stands out even in the dimmest light around her. Never has anybody seen the Maiden with long hair and even getting a glimpse of her cutting her hair seems next to impossible. It is almost as if her hair never grows anymore. Found on her right shoulder is the Mark of the Wild she received from Goethia.



A B I L I T I E S / E Q U I P M E N T

Once upon a time Pricia bore the Staff of Nature’s Breath which had been blessed by Goethia to allow her to manipulate the air as if it was a part of herself but the staff was taken from her when she was captured for execution. Somewhere in some king’s castle probably sits a simple looking staff that no man has touched since it was taken from Pricia. The Maiden was also given a pendant which allowed for the normal animals of the Wilds to identify Pricia as a member of Goethia’s ilk and thus pass through nearly every forest in the land unharmed. But, like her staff it was most likely taken and may quite possibly be worn by a Queen who thinks it just a beautiful trinket passed down through her family. Either way, all Pricia is left with are the powers granted to her by the Mark of the Wild and even they are not quite what they once were.

No longer can Pricia transform multiple times throughout a day as, with the death of Goethia, the Mark’s power has faded from it former glory. Now the Mark only allows transformations six times a day. The most common form Pricia can take in her transformations is a sort of mix between a dire wolf and a human, the Hound of the Wilds Goethia once called it. Its true name is Kallimor, a beast which is sentient enough to wield weapons and wear clothing but still can be copied by the Mark. Though, the copying of a Kallimor is imperfect as it simply enhances Pricia natural form instead of making her into a Kallimor in full. While in this form, Pricia stands at six feet tall and weighs nearly a hundred and thirty-six pounds. Pricia takes on the strengths associated with the creature she transforms into which also means that she gets the same weaknesses.

Starless

I'd say I'm done with my character now. Oddly enough, the colors I chose actually work together as it would seem. I just sort of randomly picked them in hopes of them looking nice against the greyish-black background of the Guild.

Starless

Also no idea where you guys get such awesome pictures. I'm just using an actual person because I have no idea how to find something like what I'm looking for outside of that.

@Jack Travidi

I just google for people, generally this is done through Google Images and will almost always contain the term deviantart as there are quite a few artists there who make beautiful art such as the ones which currently exist before you. One man I visit often for pictures, mostly to look at really, is Las-T.

Starless

No Longer a WIP

Beast of the Forest



Theme

N A M E / A L I A S

Pricia

Beast of the Forest & The Fair Maiden



M Y T H O L O G Y

Ancient myth tells of a man who possessed the soul of a giant beast of the forest known as a Torgarian allowing him to become one with the creature. This man was a knight, a king in fact who thirst was not for blood, nor money, nor power but for the peace which all but never existed in the lands now known as Ansus. Rather than kill the opponents he fought on the battlefields of a castle formerly known as the Borgar Village, he would fight using nothing but his palms and would focus on hitting pressure points to paralyze his foes. Borgar Village is no more than a castle now ran over by vines and ancients creatures which supposedly guard the tomb of this king. Some say his bloodline still runs through somebody in the East Ansus but once again, this is all just a myth.

And even a myth has its own fallacies, ones often picked up over time by misinterpreted words or the slight change in them to suit the times and those who rule over the group telling the myth. The truth can indeed be found in Borgar Castle which hides under the shadow of the Lone Mountain known as Urgain, or King’s Crown in the language of the Borgarians who once lived there. Written on a single tombstone, faded by time and the many passing of beasts and man alike, lies the below.

Here lies Princess Pricia, heir to the Borgarian throne and Strongest of her Kind.

Princess Pricia.. she died much younger than she should have but that is what happens to heroes who are seen as monsters. Even if your intentions were of the best for your people, one cannot escape the mob started by a rumor created by some drunkard in a tavern. The princess is truly the ‘man’ of myth who possess the soul of a Torgarian, or Shapeshifter as they were known in the tongue of the Borgarians. Having been born with the Mark of the Wild, Pricia was granted the power of shapeshifting by the Goddess Goethia, Queen of the Wilds. As such, Pricia could change between many creatures as part of her birthright but she could not always control them. When she was very young, Pricia would occasionally shapeshift into a wolf and try to play with people in this form, not knowing the she was any different from them of course.

When the young Pricia was nine years of age, she was sent away to the Monastery of Goethia- less a monastery really than a giant tree growing above a lake where Goethia’s worshippers lived- to train and control her powers. All members of the Monastery were marked by Goethia as Pricia was but their powers only allowed them to ‘commune’ with Goethia through the act of rituals involving incense burning. The young princess spent much of her life learning with the Priestesses before leaving at nineteen and swearing a vow to tell nobody of her training with them nor of her powers. But when the time came that her small Village came under combat, Pricia had to transform into a direwolf and defend them. When it came out that the Princess was the person who had attacked them early on in her life, she was driven from Boragar and went off into the turbulent world alone.

At least, that is what she thought she was when she left the comforts of her village and went into the roads beyond. Goethia contact Pricia herself and called her to take up arms against those who wished for war simply for the death it would bring. So, the princess spread across the lands which have now become Ansus and brought down groups of bandits and warlords whose only goals were to cause chaos. To aid Pricia on her Journey, Goethia gave the young woman the Staff of Nature’s Breath. But not even the Goddess could foresee the Fair Maiden’s death at the hands of people who believed her a monster simply due to a single rumor. In the end, the last sight Pricia saw was that of a crowd cheering to cut her head off. Not even a single person shed tears that day for her parents were dead, her village falling apart, and any friends she had were due for an execution as well. Yet still, her body was delivered back to castle where she was born and she was buried.



A P P E A R A N C E

Pricia stands at an unimposing four feet and eight inches tall and weighs just under ninety-two pounds. Despite her looks, Pricia’s body is all muscle and her training with the priestesses of Goethia taught her how to fight without having to be much stronger than your foe. The girl is light on her feet and hardly makes a sound as she moves through the world. But this does not mean that she doesn’t stand out of course. Pricia is known for wearing vibrant green robes and clothing which stands out even in the dimmest light around her. Never has anybody seen the Maiden with long hair and even getting a glimpse of her cutting her hair seems next to impossible. It is almost as if her hair never grows anymore. Found on her right shoulder is the Mark of the Wild she received from Goethia.



A B I L I T I E S / E Q U I P M E N T

Once upon a time Pricia bore the Staff of Nature’s Breath which had been blessed by Goethia to allow her to manipulate the air as if it was a part of herself but the staff was taken from her when she was captured for execution. Somewhere in some king’s castle probably sits a simple looking staff that no man has touched since it was taken from Pricia. The Maiden was also given a pendant which allowed for the normal animals of the Wilds to identify Pricia as a member of Goethia’s ilk and thus pass through nearly every forest in the land unharmed. But, like her staff it was most likely taken and may quite possibly be worn by a Queen who thinks it just a beautiful trinket passed down through her family. Either way, all Pricia is left with are the powers granted to her by the Mark of the Wild and even they are not quite what they once were.

No longer can Pricia transform multiple times throughout a day as, with the death of Goethia, the Mark’s power has faded from it former glory. Now the Mark only allows transformations six times a day. The most common form Pricia can take in her transformations is a sort of mix between a dire wolf and a human, the Hound of the Wilds Goethia once called it. Its true name is Kallimor, a beast which is sentient enough to wield weapons and wear clothing but still can be copied by the Mark. Though, the copying of a Kallimor is imperfect as it simply enhances Pricia natural form instead of making her into a Kallimor in full. While in this form, Pricia stands at six feet tall and weighs nearly a hundred and thirty-six pounds. Pricia takes on the strengths associated with the creature she transforms into which also means that she gets the same weaknesses.

Tada *Fanfare*

Dark Cloud Pirates (One Piece RP-Always accepting)

So many people running around outside the tavern... how big is this road that nobody is getting hit by accident due to somebody else's fight? While everybody is running about there is just a man who is literally a lightning bolt right now staring down two Marine Lieutenants. It sounds like quite the town if this is what they have to deal with.

Era of the End ~ Interest Check! (Dark/Modern/High Fantasy/Apocalyptic)

Interesting.

Starless - Unique Fantasy RP

Interested.