ManoftheNorth

Life in a strange realm

Erik Ahlstrom

Erik found himself dragged from reality. A slip in whatever he knew is what tore him away. It was an instant of flashing and then a moment of dropping from several feet off the ground. His form dropped with a low thud as his feet landed and his body curled down to crouch on his heels and his fists raised trying to take a powerful stance. The tall man stood, rising to a stern and strong six foot four inches, with his fists tucked together and his body slipping into a battle pose. His right foot slid backwards slowly and he looked about the area. "Where am I.. what happened.."

Erik began to survey his surroundings with quick snaps of his head and steady eyes, but even through his training the sudden reality shock and daze of traveling through a wormhole had him off-focus and unable to collect his surroundings strongly. He was put on the defensive and he felt alienated in a world unlike any he had seen, and it only got worse as he spied beings unlike any he had seen before. "It has green skin.. and tusks.. and.. cooks? And they females with ears.. and fur.. where the fuck am I.." His mental voice piped in for half a minute as he tried to make connections between this world and what he knew. These things seemed slightly familiar, but different all the same. He couldn't imagine them being real, so he assumed it had to be a bad dream or an unconscious mindset after the fight he had in his world. Even so he felt it was necessary to assert some form of communication and try to at least understand his surroundings until he could properly discern more for himself.

"Where am I?" Erick shouted at a moderate level with his deep voice. He wanted to be sure they heard him.

---

Azarell

Azarell was in utter dismay, unable to come to terms with the news his ears heard from the messenger. His body erupted in an anger, his muscles convulsing, his limbs shaking, his legs shambling to take steps, his eyes let fourth tears. He was utterly useless to them and he wasn't able to accept that notion, so he refused to listen and he felt compelled to help his people. He felt within an instant the anger and adrenaline of the call to arms and he set off for his people. However he would never reach his people.

Azarell had been traveling for several hours, speeding on foot with the use of his magic to aid him and his natural agility to guide him, but he needed to quicken himself further. He curled his cloak around him as he ran, his lupine like feet dancing across the ground with ease and grace before he leaped from it. His body elongated in posture as he took the leap forward, turning himself into a living bullet covered in his feathered cloak of magic that seemed to shimmer and trail like a comet. He was able to hold this marvelous feat for several moments while his keen eyes watched his path, before suddenly a mysterious force drew itself open before him, and without any chance of his dodging it he was forced into it.

Azarell was almost instantly sent out of the other side of the wormhole and into the camp. The wormhole was a little higher than the others and the Vastayan almost immediately found himself in a moment of pause. His comet like darting was ceased by his own means as he flung his right arm out to the side and sent the spiraling magic into a dazzling mist of sparkles. His long cloak extended with his arm like a mighty wing of feathers and his body slowly floated before he landed atop a dwarf's head, the one speaking rather crudely to the green-skin at that. Once he was fully down and his lupine-like feet sat gently one behind the other, he bowed deeply with his left arm tucked into his torso and his cloak straightened out to the side still much like a wing. His voice rose with a charming accent and a bit of playfulness to it.

"Hail to you, fair and few. Let all see what beauty means before you." Azarell joyfully spoke softly, before smiling and raising his head to them all.

Life in a strange realm

Erik Ahlstrom

Name: Erik Ahlstrom
Appearance:

[+]

Age: 35
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Magic: His only magic is a slight bit of telekinesis he was granted upon entering this new world.

Personality: Erik is a man of many things, virtues, sins, beliefs, and even opinions. However these all surprisingly coincide with his desire to do good and just things for the world. His personality is a bit bold and out-going, even hardy and rugged at times, but he means well for the people of his home and those around him. He seeks to protect and empower his allies, while serving as a mighty gavel of justice against his enemies.

Background: Erik was born to a family in a world where magic never existed. In this world Erik was raised by a common family in a time where technology was king. The people prayed to technology, they loved technology, they even killed for it in earnest nature. In this world, the world where Technology was the heart of all, Erik served as one of these killers. However he didn't directly kill for technology himself, for he believed he could kill for good despite not wanting to kill at all.

Erik was a man of arms, to a great military that claimed justice and honor was their right and their purpose. This army claimed it fought for freedom and peace. Erik believed this as well and happily carried arms for this militant force since he was a young man. He always believed in the virtues of this militant force, that it would one day secure peace across his world. He believed this world needed it, that is strove for it, that is begged for it. However the young Erik would grow into a realization that the world is far more cruel and much less pleading than he had believed.

It was years down the line and many battles later that the young Erik had grown into a strong man with conflicted beliefs of his treasured army. He had began to see between the cracks and realized the corruption behind the curtains. He had experienced many unjust actions in his time and had even been ordered to do some himself before his eyes were open. These things weighted on him now and they made him stronger, but also weaker. His resolve to do right by the people of his world strengthened, but his belief in who could do right was shattered. He felt, at this point in his life, as if no one could do right in his world and that included himself. He wanted nothing more than justice and peace across the lands. He sought to end fighting and lay down arms. However he knew it could not be so if all sides believed they could do right with their beliefs. It was these skewed groups of militants and politicians that opened his eyes and sadly his hidden beliefs.

It was at the crucial point sixteen years into his recruitment and service that he would bear his strongest sin. At that point in time, an order was given for Erik and all the men alongside him to take up their arms and fight for their namesake. Their firearms were drawn and their bodies stilled, they had no choice but to obey their orders, and Erik led out a militant unit to slaughter countless innocent lives in a village. The gravest of sins he bore was that by his hand alone he had to take the lives of people who were absolutely innocent. This village now dead and gone, had never even passed beyond their own lands, and knew nothing of the people that were attacking them. This quaint village was a peaceful sanctuary locked away in a world full of strife.

Erik believed he would never get a chance to atone for his wrong-doing, and he believed he would have to burden his life with his sins, or take it himself. However, there came a town just after the end of the slaughter when a great light descended upon Erik and he felt an awe of power over him. He at first believed it to be a divine smiting for his sins. When he awoke in a new world without his firearms, and surrounded by a realm of mystery and oddity, he knew the smiting of his body and soul were not the case at all.

Equipment:

[+]

Theme:

---

Azarell

Name: Azarell
Appearance:

[+]

Age:23
Gender: Male
Race: Vastayan
Magic: Charm and Illusion
Personality: Azarell is a spontaneous, energetic, random, charming male who frequents the opportunities to show off. He is an egotist and a flamboyant narcissist who constantly puts himself in the spotlight at any chance he gets whether it is right or not. He would happily try and out-do a man at giving eulogies if he believed it would make him seem that much greater. However this personality isn't all bad. He is very much a man who knows how to his looks and his personality to aid his desires and others. He is a man with a plan, sometimes, or maybe he just wings. It is truly unknown, even to him.

Background: Azarell comes from a world drenched in magic and powers known only by the fantastical and other-worldly. In his realm he was but a commoner to a tribe of Vastayan, a people known for their connection to raw and wild magic. The Vastayan people safeguard this magic, that which flows freely through all things in the realm, and in turn the magic heralds them into their being. It aids them, it empowers them, it makes them who they are at heart. It was this magic that Azarell loved beyond belief, he safeguarded as any of his people did and even more so in ways. He valued it's power and it's truthfulness. This magic was never a lie, or a liar, and it never turned on Azarell's people. This is why he loved the magic with all his heart, for the wild magic of his world and his people, was pure.

Although the magic was pure, not all the peoples of his world were such, and it was one such race of humanoids that begone a great hunt for the magic of his people. This wild magic was sought by the other race, and that race grudgingly led war against the Vastayans for the magic. They wiped tribes off the map with ease for it, after years of gathering strength and numbers, which the Vastayans were completely unaware of in their earnest corners of the world.

Azarell was never shook so much in his life, his heart shuttered at the thought when he finally received word, and even then it was too late. He was one man, lost without the truth of his people. He had lost it all, and he blames himself. He couldn't do a thing to stop the other race, and while he knew it was impossible to stop, he still blamed himself. He does so because the very morning the race came for his tribe, and other-worldly power took him from his home, just as his eyes laid upon the invading force he was dragged away to this new world.

Equipment:Azarell's equipment so to say is his magical cloak of feathers, which acts as a weapon when wielded to slash at his foes like an extension of his arm, as well as offers some ranged potential with a specific feather or two.
Theme:

Life in a strange realm

Erik Ahlstrom

Name: Erik Ahlstrom
Appearance:

[+]

Age: 35
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Magic: His only magic is a slight bit of telekinesis he was granted upon entering this new world.

Personality: Erik is a man of many things, virtues, sins, beliefs, and even opinions. However these all surprisingly coincide with his desire to do good and just things for the world. His personality is a bit bold and out-going, even hardy and rugged at times, but he means well for the people of his home and those around him. He seeks to protect and empower his allies, while serving as a mighty gavel of justice against his enemies.

Background: Erik was born to a family in a world where magic never existed. In this world Erik was raised by a common family in a time where technology was king. The people prayed to technology, they loved technology, they even killed for it in earnest nature. In this world, the world where Technology was the heart of all, Erik served as one of these killers. However he didn't directly kill for technology himself, for he believed he could kill for good despite not wanting to kill at all.

Erik was a man of arms, to a great military that claimed justice and honor was their right and their purpose. This army claimed it fought for freedom and peace. Erik believed this as well and happily carried arms for this militant force since he was a young man. He always believed in the virtues of this militant force, that it would one day secure peace across his world. He believed this world needed it, that is strove for it, that is begged for it. However the young Erik would grow into a realization that the world is far more cruel and much less pleading than he had believed.

It was years down the line and many battles later that the young Erik had grown into a strong man with conflicted beliefs of his treasured army. He had began to see between the cracks and realized the corruption behind the curtains. He had experienced many unjust actions in his time and had even been ordered to do some himself before his eyes were open. These things weighted on him now and they made him stronger, but also weaker. His resolve to do right by the people of his world strengthened, but his belief in who could do right was shattered. He felt, at this point in his life, as if no one could do right in his world and that included himself. He wanted nothing more than justice and peace across the lands. He sought to end fighting and lay down arms. However he knew it could not be so if all sides believed they could do right with their beliefs. It was these skewed groups of militants and politicians that opened his eyes and sadly his hidden beliefs.

It was at the crucial point sixteen years into his recruitment and service that he would bear his strongest sin. At that point in time, an order was given for Erik and all the men alongside him to take up their arms and fight for their namesake. Their firearms were drawn and their bodies stilled, they had no choice but to obey their orders, and Erik led out a militant unit to slaughter countless innocent lives in a village. The gravest of sins he bore was that by his hand alone he had to take the lives of people who were absolutely innocent. This village now dead and gone, had never even passed beyond their own lands, and knew nothing of the people that were attacking them. This quaint village was a peaceful sanctuary locked away in a world full of strife.

Erik believed he would never get a chance to atone for his wrong-doing, and he believed he would have to burden his life with his sins, or take it himself. However, there came a town just after the end of the slaughter when a great light descended upon Erik and he felt an awe of power over him. He at first believed it to be a divine smiting for his sins. When he awoke in a new world without his firearms, and surrounded by a realm of mystery and oddity, he knew the smiting of his body and soul were not the case at all.

Equipment:

[+]

Theme:

---

Azarell

Name: Azarell
Appearance:

[+]

Age:23
Gender: Male
Race: Vastayan
Magic: Charm and Illusion
Personality: Azarell is a spontaneous, energetic, random, charming male who frequents the opportunities to show off. He is an egotist and a flamboyant narcissist who constantly puts himself in the spotlight at any chance he gets whether it is right or not. He would happily try and out-do a man at giving eulogies if he believed it would make him seem that much greater. However this personality isn't all bad. He is very much a man who knows how to his looks and his personality to aid his desires and others. He is a man with a plan, sometimes, or maybe he just wings. It is truly unknown, even to him.

Background: Azarell comes from a world drenched in magic and powers known only by the fantastical and other-worldly. In his realm he was but a commoner to a tribe of Vastayan, a people known for their connection to raw and wild magic. The Vastayan people safeguard this magic, that which flows freely through all things in the realm, and in turn the magic heralds them into their being. It aids them, it empowers them, it makes them who they are at heart. It was this magic that Azarell loved beyond belief, he safeguarded as any of his people did and even more so in ways. He valued it's power and it's truthfulness. This magic was never a lie, or a liar, and it never turned on Azarell's people. This is why he loved the magic with all his heart, for the wild magic of his world and his people, was pure.

Although the magic was pure, not all the peoples of his world were such, and it was one such race of humanoids that begone a great hunt for the magic of his people. This wild magic was sought by the other race, and that race grudgingly led war against the Vastayans for the magic. They wiped tribes off the map with ease for it, after years of gathering strength and numbers, which the Vastayans were completely unaware of in their earnest corners of the world.

Azarell was never shook so much in his life, his heart shuttered at the thought when he finally received word, and even then it was too late. He was one man, lost without the truth of his people. He had lost it all, and he blames himself. He couldn't do a thing to stop the other race, and while he knew it was impossible to stop, he still blamed himself. He does so because the very morning the race came for his tribe, and other-worldly power took him from his home, just as his eyes laid upon the invading force he was dragged away to this new world.

Equipment:Azarell's equipment so to say is his magical cloak of feathers, which acts as a weapon when wielded to slash at his foes like an extension of his arm, as well as offers some ranged potential with a specific feather or two.
Theme:

The Hearts of Azalore (Fantasy, Grim-dark, Rp)

@Zelosse@semicolon@Dark Light@Kalleth@Roughdragon1@Utrax

We will be starting tomorrow morning my time.(Roughly eight hours.) I was waiting for one more person, but I can't wait forever.

The Hearts of Azalore (Fantasy, Grim-dark, Rp)

@Dark Light Avarius is accepted, but you would need to write on what equipment he has, and by extension spells or magical aptitude.

Belwyn city of Gangs

Alexander.

@Warborn123

The Hearts of Azalore (Fantasy, Grim-dark, Rp)

Grimlock and Broggan are both accepted.