Jotunn Draugr

Fantasy 1775: The New World (looking for new players)

Name: Forseti Bjornson


Race: Haugbui/Draugr
-Magical Norse zombie, able to use dark magic to shapeshift and increase or decrease in size. His magical abilities are strengthened near graveyards and oceans, especially on cloudy days, but weakened the further he goes inland. Like other zombies, he is filled with a deep hunger for human flesh, but he also retains most of his human personality, allowing him to resist this desire.

Age: Chronologically 56, Physically 29

Appearance:
Forseti is a thin, gaunt man. His eyes are darkly outlined, giving the appearance of having not slept in many days. His skin is grey and lifeless, but his face is largely obscured by a thick beard. His body is likewise hidden by a thick navy-blue pea coat, leather gloves, formal pants, and tall, heeled leather boots. He stands with a stiff posture, and walks with a limp. His pockets are filled with herbs and tobacco, and a lit pipe is constantly hanging from his mouth. He carries a strong aroma of various burnt plants and alcohol. When on land, he waxes his beard and greases back his hair, giving the appearance of a proper sea-fairing gentleman. At sea, his hair blows free, and a primal energy radiates from his expression.

Personality:
Forseti is a very stiff, and heavily self-restrained individual. He upholds flawless posture, and strides with the utmost authority. Joy doesn't come naturally to him anymore, but he makes the effort to smile and play along with his comrades, for the sake of the group. He savours every opportunity to sit down, as though it relieves a great weight from his entire being, not just his legs. He's also a deeply spiritual man, who observes several pagan religious practices before going to bed. Over all, while he appears as a fairly young man, he displays the personae of someone far older.

Bio

Bio:
Forseti was a fisherman who lived and worked off the northern coast of Norway. His village had, of course, sworn itself to Njord, God of Storms, and patron of the fishmongers. Njord, however, recognized the strength of the Aesir, Norse gods of war, who rivaled Njord and the other peaceful gods. He erected several hidden shrines outside the village, honouring Aesir like Odin and Thor, and even devious Jotunn (giants) like Loki and Hel. Two days after his twenty-ninth birthday, his shrine to Hel was discovered, in a tool shed he'd forgotten to lock up before heading out. The village elders, fearful and furious, summoned Njord, and told him of this treachery.
As Forseti sailed out to his fishing spot, unaware of the elders' discovery, Njord himself appeared before Forseti. He told Forseti that his village had always been faithful to him, and had begged Njord to spare the fisherman's life. So Njord demanded Forseti's servitude, and repentance, in exchange for his life. Just as Forseti began to bow, he heard whispers in his head, commanding him to reject the demand. With a sudden rage, he pulled out a knife, and slashed and Njord's legs while he was in his mortal form. Wounded and betrayed, Njord stumbled off the ship, and into the ocean below. Sinking to safety within the depths, he summoned a great storm to kill Forseti. A mighty wave arose, and swallowed Forseti's boat, plunging him into the deep cold ocean. As the currents pulled him downward, he prayed to the whispers that had driven him to assault a god. The whispers answered, and Loki and Hel revealed themselves. They smiled and laughed, as Forseti squirmed and thrashed, water quickly filling his lungs. As the light began to leave his eyes, a third form swam around him. A great, slithering monstrosity.
He awoke on a beach in Scottland, still wearing his sailing gear. Able to speak English well enough, he got a job with a local fishing company there. He lead a normal life for a while, until one Friday night, when he was enjoying a beer with his coworkers at a local pub. He once again heard whispers in his head, but this time they were followed by complete blackness. When he awoke, the bar that had once been filled with laughing drunken sailors, was now filled with mutilated corpses. He fled from Scottland, and was fortunately never identified by the authorities.
Making his way to the south of England, he enlisted in the British Navy. Many years passed, and many promotions were gained, and it began to sink in that a man who was well into his forties hadn't aged since his twenty-ninth birthday. It wasn't just him either. The sailors beneath him began to joke, about the gaunt captain who didn't age. It was then, that the whispers returned yet again, although this time they didn't compel him to kill. Instead, they taught him of his new abilities. He was able to alter his appearance, either subtly, or into an entirely different person. While this ability carried a great deal of potential, he simply used it to make himself appear to age normally, so as to not arouse suspicion. The whispers told him of his inhuman strength, but he suppressed this. The whispers told him that he could survive beneath the waves, without air. He was fortunate enough to not need to test this.
At the age of fifty-four, he retired, and purchased a small beach-front residence in the distant nation of Seaside. Living off of his savings, and some light harbour work, he spent two years dedicated to worship, in a desperate attempt to lift the curse that had clearly been placed on him. The advantage of Seaside, is that it was a new world, and he could return to his twenty-nine year-old appearance without arousing suspicion. His reclusive cottage on the coast also meant he was able to experiment with the powers that had been granted to him, in case the gods required their usage.

Equipment/possessions:
-Steel rapier
-Flintlock pistol
-Fillet knife
-Oilskin coat
-Bone tobacco pipe
-Pipe tobacco
-Whiskey bottle
-Leather-bound prayer book
-Book of matches

Stats: (18 total)
Strength: 5
Endurance: 4
Agility: 3
Intelligence: 2
Will: 3
Luck: 1

Skills/Spells:
-Fencing
-Seamanship
-Alter Appearance (Spell: Changes appearance and size to suite the situation. Good for persuasion and stealth)
-Undead Strength (Spell: Double the result of a Strength roll)
-Lifeless Lungs (Immune to drowning/suffocation)

Fantasy 1775: The New World (looking for new players)

@Jotunn Draugredit: I'll allow it, but I might use it later on undead. Two quick questions, though:

1) Does Holy magic affect him the way it does demons/vampires, where they take damage any time holy magic is used on them, regardless of type?
2) What type of magic is the shapeshifting? It just matters so that I know which stat to roll. The undead strength is basically a set effect, so he'll just need to activate it.

@TheUnknowable

I changed his first skill to fencing, to match his melee build. Gun proficiency can wait.

1) Uhh, I'm gonna say yes. Ideally, it would be cool to break down the holy magic by source, depending on where the caster gets their holy magic from (Gods that compliment the Aesir/Jotunn pantheons vs. those that don't, for example). My thinking is that Priest/Druid-esque holy magic, that draws from peaceful inspirations would be doubly harmful, while Paladin/Crusader-esque holy magic, that draws from indignation and aggression would be almost safe. Or if someone worships Isis or Athena it hurts, but not if they worship Sekhmet or Ares. If that seems a bit too convoluted, we can just go with a simple "holy=bad" approach.

2) The shapeshifting would be Demonic magic.

Fantasy 1775: The New World (looking for new players)

Name: Forseti Bjornson


Race: Haugbui/Draugr
-Magical Norse zombie, able to use dark magic to shapeshift and increase or decrease in size. His magical abilities are strengthened near graveyards and oceans, especially on cloudy days, but weakened the further he goes inland. Like other zombies, he is filled with a deep hunger for human flesh, but he also retains most of his human personality, allowing him to resist this desire.

Age: Chronologically 56, Physically 29

Appearance:
Forseti is a thin, gaunt man. His eyes are darkly outlined, giving the appearance of having not slept in many days. His skin is grey and lifeless, but his face is largely obscured by a thick beard. His body is likewise hidden by a thick navy-blue pea coat, leather gloves, formal pants, and tall, heeled leather boots. He stands with a stiff posture, and walks with a limp. His pockets are filled with herbs and tobacco, and a lit pipe is constantly hanging from his mouth. He carries a strong aroma of various burnt plants and alcohol. When on land, he waxes his beard and greases back his hair, giving the appearance of a proper sea-fairing gentleman. At sea, his hair blows free, and a primal energy radiates from his expression.

Personality:
Forseti is a very stiff, and heavily self-restrained individual. He upholds flawless posture, and strides with the utmost authority. Joy doesn't come naturally to him anymore, but he makes the effort to smile and play along with his comrades, for the sake of the group. He savours every opportunity to sit down, as though it relieves a great weight from his entire being, not just his legs. He's also a deeply spiritual man, who observes several pagan religious practices before going to bed. Over all, while he appears as a fairly young man, he displays the personae of someone far older.

Bio

Bio:
Forseti was a fisherman who lived and worked off the northern coast of Norway. His village had, of course, sworn itself to Njord, God of Storms, and patron of the fishmongers. Njord, however, recognized the strength of the Aesir, Norse gods of war, who rivaled Njord and the other peaceful gods. He erected several hidden shrines outside the village, honouring Aesir like Odin and Thor, and even devious Jotunn (giants) like Loki and Hel. Two days after his twenty-ninth birthday, his shrine to Hel was discovered, in a tool shed he'd forgotten to lock up before heading out. The village elders, fearful and furious, summoned Njord, and told him of this treachery.
As Forseti sailed out to his fishing spot, unaware of the elders' discovery, Njord himself appeared before Forseti. He told Forseti that his village had always been faithful to him, and had begged Njord to spare the fisherman's life. So Njord demanded Forseti's servitude, and repentance, in exchange for his life. Just as Forseti began to bow, he heard whispers in his head, commanding him to reject the demand. With a sudden rage, he pulled out a knife, and slashed and Njord's legs while he was in his mortal form. Wounded and betrayed, Njord stumbled off the ship, and into the ocean below. Sinking to safety within the depths, he summoned a great storm to kill Forseti. A mighty wave arose, and swallowed Forseti's boat, plunging him into the deep cold ocean. As the currents pulled him downward, he prayed to the whispers that had driven him to assault a god. The whispers answered, and Loki and Hel revealed themselves. They smiled and laughed, as Forseti squirmed and thrashed, water quickly filling his lungs. As the light began to leave his eyes, a third form swam around him. A great, slithering monstrosity.
He awoke on a beach in Scottland, still wearing his sailing gear. Able to speak English well enough, he got a job with a local fishing company there. He lead a normal life for a while, until one Friday night, when he was enjoying a beer with his coworkers at a local pub. He once again heard whispers in his head, but this time they were followed by complete blackness. When he awoke, the bar that had once been filled with laughing drunken sailors, was now filled with mutilated corpses. He fled from Scottland, and was fortunately never identified by the authorities.
Making his way to the south of England, he enlisted in the British Navy. Many years passed, and many promotions were gained, and it began to sink in that a man who was well into his forties hadn't aged since his twenty-ninth birthday. It wasn't just him either. The sailors beneath him began to joke, about the gaunt captain who didn't age. It was then, that the whispers returned yet again, although this time they didn't compel him to kill. Instead, they taught him of his new abilities. He was able to alter his appearance, either subtly, or into an entirely different person. While this ability carried a great deal of potential, he simply used it to make himself appear to age normally, so as to not arouse suspicion. The whispers told him of his inhuman strength, but he suppressed this. The whispers told him that he could survive beneath the waves, without air. He was fortunate enough to not need to test this.
At the age of fifty-four, he retired, and purchased a small beach-front residence in the distant nation of Seaside. Living off of his savings, and some light harbour work, he spent two years dedicated to worship, in a desperate attempt to lift the curse that had clearly been placed on him. The advantage of Seaside, is that it was a new world, and he could return to his twenty-nine year-old appearance without arousing suspicion. His reclusive cottage on the coast also meant he was able to experiment with the powers that had been granted to him, in case the gods required their usage.

Equipment/possessions:
-Steel rapier
-Flintlock pistol
-Fillet knife
-Oilskin coat
-Bone tobacco pipe
-Pipe tobacco
-Whiskey bottle
-Leather-bound prayer book
-Book of matches

Stats: (18 total)
Strength: 5
Endurance: 4
Agility: 3
Intelligence: 2
Will: 3
Luck: 1

Skills/Spells:
-Fencing
-Seamanship
-Alter Appearance (Spell: Changes appearance and size to suite the situation. Good for persuasion and stealth)
-Undead Strength (Spell: Double the result of a Strength roll)
-Lifeless Lungs (Immune to drowning/suffocation)

Fantasy 1775: The New World (tabletop/advanced hybrid)

Oh man, I gotta get in on this.

The Rise of Man (Fallout-like RP)

<Snipped quote by Iluvatar>

But... but America!

@Keyguyperson

Speaking of America, I'm waiting for any of the American states in this RP to get a post up. It's getting lonely up here, in post-apocalyptic Canada.

Justice League: Futures End

With a great many creaks and rumbles, the drone generator and the attached office building buckled under their own weight, and began lurching and leaning directly over the group of heroes. The thought, and imagined sensation, of being buried in rubble occurred to Bluebird quite quickly. She shoved her pistol back inside her jacket, and began looking around for the quickest route away from the oncoming catastrophe. After a quick glance around, the dreadful realization hit her, that she wouldn't be able to outrun the collapse, no matter the direction.

Just then, Static, standing proudly on his shining metallic platform, swept through the air toward her. Lurching to a halt just in front of Bluebird, with a juvenile grin, he extended his hand.

"Join me? I promise, no thirty year old movie referen-"

The drone generator gave a tremendous roar, as its outer shell stretched and compressed under the weight of several stories of concrete, forcing themselves onto the compromised facility. The shadow of oncoming death grew, as the great structure swung itself forward with a titanic lurch. Xiu swung her arm forward, and clasped Virgil's hand with a frantic determination. With his help, she hoisted herself up onto the small disk.

"Go!" she exclaimed, wrapping her hands around the young hero's torso, and doing her best to maintain balance.

With the continued collapse of the skyscraper, the shrill shriek of a hundred broken windows filled the air. Large shards of glass filled the air above them, and began their terrible dissent toward the Justice League members below.

@Pacifista

Justice League: Futures End

I'm in the titanpad now if anyone's around! Gonna move things forward a bit and get our teams ready to fall back.

EDIT: Posted! We haven't cleared out yet but we're getting ready to. Then, after our group rests up a little... we rescue either Nightwing or Superboy as well as a hundred or so survivors.

~KL~

@The Kid Lantern

Hey, by the way. How exactly do drones attack? Do they just swing at you with their arms? Do they bite?

Time's a Changing - a Steampunk NRP set in a Psuedo-Earth

I plan on getting a post up soon. Simply have been busy given Christmas break and my family wishing to go so many places.

@HellishWaffle

Sweet! Looking forward to it.

Recovering from New Years myself, so I should be getting a proper post up soon too.

Gunnaya Njordsdottir vs Blithe Marrowdwell

As Gunnaya wound up for her strike, she saw that her target wasn't backing off. Rather, Blithe was pushing ahead quite aggressively, trying to get her off guard. Following Gunnaya's staff, Blithe propelled herself, shield-first, toward Gunnaya's right side. Thinking quickly, Gunnaya sidestepped to her left, switching the weight on her legs and weapon. Instead of facing her adversary head-on, Gunnaya used her left hand to thrust the other end of her staff forward. This would strike Blithe's right side, pushing her forward with the momentum she already had, instead of against her body's weight.

As the weighty, metal-tipped staff collided with Blithe's right shoulder, she would likely be sent stumbling forward, past Gunnaya, if not tripping from the sudden push and falling on the ground.

Justice League: Futures End

The drones were moving in, but between Bluebird's bullets, Superbeast's claws, and Wonder Woman's fists, there weren't many left. With the tower being handled by Marvel and Superbeast, and these drones proving no challenge for a combined super-team, the mission seemed almost too easy. Bluebird began humming to herself, as she reloaded and shot down another couple drones. Looking up, she saw Static soaring downward on his silver disk, plummeting toward the drones. She readied her aim again, but paused when she saw her comrade tumble from his metallic mount, into the horde, before immediately climbing his way back out. Her brow furrowed, as she wondered what the hell he was doing. This was answered when he sent an electrical charge through the crowd, magnetically locking the drones in place. She had underestimated this kid. Clearly, he was well educated in some form of military strategy.

Raising her guns to her now immobile targets, Xiu made a mental note to question Static about his technique. She sang quietly to herself as she knocked them off one at a time. She locked her eyes onto her target's head, lined up her pistol for the shot, and fired.

"Yao cheng weeeei, locked", *BANG*, "Nan zi haaaan, locked", *BANG*, "bu ren shuuuu, locked, aaand locked", *BANG*, *BANG*, *click*, *click*.

She sighed, her revolvers were out, but she wanted to take advantage of the immobilized targets while she could. With a playful spin around her fingers, she holstered the two magnums at her hip, before reaching into her coat and brandishing a jet-black semi-automatic. As the freakish drones gazed at her with their eerie green eyes, she scowled.

"Locked", she mumbled to herself, as her grip tightened around the trigger. The bullet landed dead between the drone's eyes, and the abominable creature slumped over, head-first into the concrete. By the time its head struck the ground, Bluebird had already lined up her next shot. Xiu was using her eyes separately, so while one eye lined itself up with her gun, the other eye swung itself around, searching for the next target. This made dispatching drones a very quick process.

*BANG*, *BANG*, *BANG*, *BANG*. The human-esque shells stared blankly at Xiu, before dropping to the ground like flies, the green glow fading from their haunted eyes. Suddenly, a sharp shiver ran down the young heroine's spine, forcing her to pause for a moment. There was something wrong with killing these things. Something inhumane. It didn't sit right with her. They had a certain look to them, like deer facing down an oncoming car. Xiu stared ahead at the bodies of her dead victims, hoping Wonder Woman would be able to finish off the last of them. Something had shaken her, and she wasn't entirely sure what it was.