Alright, edited the red blade entry, going to port her over to the character tab
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Name: Saria Silverlocke
Alias: “The Blood Devil”
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Class: Sword fighter
Appearance
Equipment
The Red Blade: An heirloom passed down through countless generations of Saria’s family, and the weapon central to Saria’s fighting capability. Its true origin is unknown. However, tales told to her throughout childhood claim that it was forged by the Jogun, a race of perfect warriors, with the ore of Baskarite, a metal originating from the deepest depths of the earth. The Red Blade was their legacy.
However it came to be, and whoever made it, the Red Blade seems to be nearly indestructible, withstanding the most scorching temperatures from a smith’s forge as well as seemingly repelling the strikes of a blacksmith’s hammer without the slightest scratch. Attempts to dull it have been fruitless. Strangely enough, attempts to sharpen it also have no effect. Wielded properly, the Red Blade can cut through most types of armor, excluding metal.
Silverlocke Armor: Saria wears head-to-toe armor composed of ordinary steel plate, blackened and custom fitted to the shapes and contours of her own body. More steel plates hang from her armor, covering the hip and shoulder joints. The armor is mostly made for intimidation and ceremonial purposes rather than practical purposes, but still functions as effective protection.
Abilities
Reactionary Quickening: Saria’s sword fighting capability stems from countless hours of brutal, grueling training designed to create a warrior worthy of using the Red Blade. This included “exercises” such as dodging and deflecting lethal projectiles from all different directions, blindfolded. She learned to not just use her sight in battle, but sounds and instincts. Combined, Saria possessed the reaction speed and precision of a warrior.
Enhanced Strength: Saria not only needed to keep up with the rest of her siblings in terms of speed, but also in strength. Even though she was a girl, she was required to fight her brothers as well as her sister in order to become worthy of the blade. She seldom won against her brothers in hand-to-hand combat, since they possessed much more brute strength than she did, but to the average person, she is a bear in a woman’s skin, capable of extraordinary feats with the use of her strength alone, such as throwing people twice her weight over her shoulder, or caving in bones with her bare handed strikes.
Blood Blade: Saria is connected to the Red Blade in more ways than one. Sure, it is an heirloom bestowed upon her with the highest honor of the Silverlocke family, but per tradition, Saria was cut with the blade, imbuing her blood with the sword for the first time. From then on, she had become the only one in the world who could tap into the blade’s true power: Blood. Through the imbuement of her own blood, a crimson coat covers her sword, effectively sharpening it even further by using her own life force as a blade. Of course, this has a negative effect. The use of her own blood as a blade slowly drains her strength, and could kill her if left unchecked.
Pain Resistance: Saria is no stranger to pain, and can overcome and ignore wounds most people consider “grievous” or “crippling”. However, this does not make her immortal. She is still human, after all.
Fighting Style: Perfection? Form? Technique? Elegance? Merely an afterthought. Through raw, unhinged power, Saria aims to destroy completely and indiscriminately, and this is shown through her fighting style. Saria is rarely, if ever, on the defense. During combat, she will do anything possible to get the edge in a fight, including letting opponents injure her in order to gain an advantage.
Saria is a close range powerhouse. Her own unfettered rage powers her strikes, aiming to put all of her effort into physically breaking her opponent and their defenses. Fighters who use ranged attacks or sorcery infuriate Saria, since she sees combat as a purely melee-focused altercation. To her, ranged attackers and mages are cowards who cannot stomach the will to fight honorably. This style of combat does have its disadvantages. For example, Saria is weak to ranged attacks, since she cannot fight back against a ranged attacker, the only thing she can do is try and get closer to them. Also, Saria is tough, but not immortal. Attacks that slip through her defenses will hurt her, and usually, they hurt her severely.
Personality: Saria is by all means a hot-headed individual, and rightly so. From the day she could walk, she knew nothing but war. Risen by any other family, she may have had the passion for things such as the arts, or scholarly pursuits, but the Silverlocke family has effectively ironed out troublesome things such as these. The only thing left in her mind was an unfaltering fire, a will to fight, conquer, and destroy.
Bio: Raised in the Silverlocke family, Saria was one of five siblings, three of them being boys and another a girl. From the day she could walk, she was subjected to cruel punishment from her parents and her siblings alike. The reason for this abuse was to inject into her a sense of hostility and pain from the earliest age possible, and begin to kindle the flames of a warrior. However her sister, Alina, was more merciful to her than the others.
At the age of five, her training began. She was taught to wield a sword, and study the one “form” of fighting shared in the Silverlocke family: Darh Krile. (Jogun translation: Death Blow). The Silverlocke style of combat focused on overwhelming opponents with pure offensive capability. She was taught to never hold back in a fight, that self-preservation was a vice, preventing her from reaching her true path as a warrior. Years passed, and her sense of self deteriorated, her only savior was Alina, who seemed to be the one compassionate voice in her life.
At twelve, Saria began to “make progress”, or as her parents had put it. She began to best her brothers in combat, albeit not often. Alina wasn’t the warrior her parents wanted her to be, as she grew to be more of a pacifist. In a tragic “incident”, Alina had a large stone tied to her feet, and was told to swim across the lake nearest to their home. She never made it. Saria became filled with rage at her death, even moreso when her family seemed not to care much about it. “A good riddance,” as her parents called it. Saria began to plot her revenge, and she would become the Silverlocke heir in order to achieve it.
By nineteen, Saria had struggled through years of abuse and training, her only goal was the destruction of her entire family. Her personality took a dark turn, and she mercilessly beat her brothers, as they did to her before. When she won the right to the Silverlocke armor, and therefore the Red Blade, the first thing she did was slaughter her parents and brothers, not only for Alina, but for herself.
Afterwards, with her only companion being the Red Blade, she wandered the world, seeking worthy opponents to fight. Part of this was to reinforce her sense of self, her own identity, and part of it was to find an opponent she deemed worthy of killing her, to rid her of this cursed existence. Until this happens she searches still, a woman wanting to die.
Wish: Saria’s wish is to die to an opponent worth dieing to. She doesn’t know exactly who this would be, but it should ultimately be someone who has been through the same pain as her, who could best her in fair combat.
Echo: The Silverlocke lake, the place where her sister drowned under the cruel hands of her family.
Frenzy:
It is said that the Red Blade contains demonic origin. From the depths of the earth it was forged, and from the depths of the earth it came to be. Therefore, a bit of demonic influence was inevitable. When Saria’s pain is more than she could handle, her sword fuses to her hands, and forcibly draws blood from her body in order to create a blood blade (Blood Blade ability automatically activated). In this state, Saria is on her last legs, and will fight purely to survive, like a feral animal.
An aura of fire surrounds her, presumably an effect of the Red Blade binding to her soul. Her strength and speed is immensely increased, such that she could shatter boulders with the strength of a sword strike.
This state is what earned her the nickname, Blood Devil. When she slaughtered her family, the only thing onlookers saw was her, clad in black, bloody armor, emerging from her family’s home, now in flames.
Inventory: Phylactery
Alias: “The Blood Devil”
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Class: Sword fighter
Appearance
Equipment
The Red Blade: An heirloom passed down through countless generations of Saria’s family, and the weapon central to Saria’s fighting capability. Its true origin is unknown. However, tales told to her throughout childhood claim that it was forged by the Jogun, a race of perfect warriors, with the ore of Baskarite, a metal originating from the deepest depths of the earth. The Red Blade was their legacy.
However it came to be, and whoever made it, the Red Blade seems to be nearly indestructible, withstanding the most scorching temperatures from a smith’s forge as well as seemingly repelling the strikes of a blacksmith’s hammer without the slightest scratch. Attempts to dull it have been fruitless. Strangely enough, attempts to sharpen it also have no effect. Wielded properly, the Red Blade can cut through most types of armor, excluding metal.
Silverlocke Armor: Saria wears head-to-toe armor composed of ordinary steel plate, blackened and custom fitted to the shapes and contours of her own body. More steel plates hang from her armor, covering the hip and shoulder joints. The armor is mostly made for intimidation and ceremonial purposes rather than practical purposes, but still functions as effective protection.
Abilities
Reactionary Quickening: Saria’s sword fighting capability stems from countless hours of brutal, grueling training designed to create a warrior worthy of using the Red Blade. This included “exercises” such as dodging and deflecting lethal projectiles from all different directions, blindfolded. She learned to not just use her sight in battle, but sounds and instincts. Combined, Saria possessed the reaction speed and precision of a warrior.
Enhanced Strength: Saria not only needed to keep up with the rest of her siblings in terms of speed, but also in strength. Even though she was a girl, she was required to fight her brothers as well as her sister in order to become worthy of the blade. She seldom won against her brothers in hand-to-hand combat, since they possessed much more brute strength than she did, but to the average person, she is a bear in a woman’s skin, capable of extraordinary feats with the use of her strength alone, such as throwing people twice her weight over her shoulder, or caving in bones with her bare handed strikes.
Blood Blade: Saria is connected to the Red Blade in more ways than one. Sure, it is an heirloom bestowed upon her with the highest honor of the Silverlocke family, but per tradition, Saria was cut with the blade, imbuing her blood with the sword for the first time. From then on, she had become the only one in the world who could tap into the blade’s true power: Blood. Through the imbuement of her own blood, a crimson coat covers her sword, effectively sharpening it even further by using her own life force as a blade. Of course, this has a negative effect. The use of her own blood as a blade slowly drains her strength, and could kill her if left unchecked.
Pain Resistance: Saria is no stranger to pain, and can overcome and ignore wounds most people consider “grievous” or “crippling”. However, this does not make her immortal. She is still human, after all.
Fighting Style: Perfection? Form? Technique? Elegance? Merely an afterthought. Through raw, unhinged power, Saria aims to destroy completely and indiscriminately, and this is shown through her fighting style. Saria is rarely, if ever, on the defense. During combat, she will do anything possible to get the edge in a fight, including letting opponents injure her in order to gain an advantage.
Saria is a close range powerhouse. Her own unfettered rage powers her strikes, aiming to put all of her effort into physically breaking her opponent and their defenses. Fighters who use ranged attacks or sorcery infuriate Saria, since she sees combat as a purely melee-focused altercation. To her, ranged attackers and mages are cowards who cannot stomach the will to fight honorably. This style of combat does have its disadvantages. For example, Saria is weak to ranged attacks, since she cannot fight back against a ranged attacker, the only thing she can do is try and get closer to them. Also, Saria is tough, but not immortal. Attacks that slip through her defenses will hurt her, and usually, they hurt her severely.
Personality: Saria is by all means a hot-headed individual, and rightly so. From the day she could walk, she knew nothing but war. Risen by any other family, she may have had the passion for things such as the arts, or scholarly pursuits, but the Silverlocke family has effectively ironed out troublesome things such as these. The only thing left in her mind was an unfaltering fire, a will to fight, conquer, and destroy.
Bio: Raised in the Silverlocke family, Saria was one of five siblings, three of them being boys and another a girl. From the day she could walk, she was subjected to cruel punishment from her parents and her siblings alike. The reason for this abuse was to inject into her a sense of hostility and pain from the earliest age possible, and begin to kindle the flames of a warrior. However her sister, Alina, was more merciful to her than the others.
At the age of five, her training began. She was taught to wield a sword, and study the one “form” of fighting shared in the Silverlocke family: Darh Krile. (Jogun translation: Death Blow). The Silverlocke style of combat focused on overwhelming opponents with pure offensive capability. She was taught to never hold back in a fight, that self-preservation was a vice, preventing her from reaching her true path as a warrior. Years passed, and her sense of self deteriorated, her only savior was Alina, who seemed to be the one compassionate voice in her life.
At twelve, Saria began to “make progress”, or as her parents had put it. She began to best her brothers in combat, albeit not often. Alina wasn’t the warrior her parents wanted her to be, as she grew to be more of a pacifist. In a tragic “incident”, Alina had a large stone tied to her feet, and was told to swim across the lake nearest to their home. She never made it. Saria became filled with rage at her death, even moreso when her family seemed not to care much about it. “A good riddance,” as her parents called it. Saria began to plot her revenge, and she would become the Silverlocke heir in order to achieve it.
By nineteen, Saria had struggled through years of abuse and training, her only goal was the destruction of her entire family. Her personality took a dark turn, and she mercilessly beat her brothers, as they did to her before. When she won the right to the Silverlocke armor, and therefore the Red Blade, the first thing she did was slaughter her parents and brothers, not only for Alina, but for herself.
Afterwards, with her only companion being the Red Blade, she wandered the world, seeking worthy opponents to fight. Part of this was to reinforce her sense of self, her own identity, and part of it was to find an opponent she deemed worthy of killing her, to rid her of this cursed existence. Until this happens she searches still, a woman wanting to die.
Wish: Saria’s wish is to die to an opponent worth dieing to. She doesn’t know exactly who this would be, but it should ultimately be someone who has been through the same pain as her, who could best her in fair combat.
Echo: The Silverlocke lake, the place where her sister drowned under the cruel hands of her family.
Frenzy:
It is said that the Red Blade contains demonic origin. From the depths of the earth it was forged, and from the depths of the earth it came to be. Therefore, a bit of demonic influence was inevitable. When Saria’s pain is more than she could handle, her sword fuses to her hands, and forcibly draws blood from her body in order to create a blood blade (Blood Blade ability automatically activated). In this state, Saria is on her last legs, and will fight purely to survive, like a feral animal.
An aura of fire surrounds her, presumably an effect of the Red Blade binding to her soul. Her strength and speed is immensely increased, such that she could shatter boulders with the strength of a sword strike.
This state is what earned her the nickname, Blood Devil. When she slaughtered her family, the only thing onlookers saw was her, clad in black, bloody armor, emerging from her family’s home, now in flames.
Inventory: Phylactery
That's precisely correct.
Okay, thanks for clarifying.
Just wondering, when you say the character can be from any universe, but must be original, you mean that we may create a character who comes from a certain movie/book/game universe, but may not be any of the existing characters from that universe?
In
The Crucible - a 'multiversal' tournament with your soul on the line
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Cool!
In
The Crucible - a 'multiversal' tournament with your soul on the line
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
This sounds really cool, mind if I join?
Sylvia kneeled on the cobblestones, trying to catch her breath. She couldn’t wound it, not enough to kill it at least. She felt its thick muscle and bone deflect her dagger like it was steel plate. She watched the ogre fall, its massive bulk crashing down from from its extensive wounds.
I really need a better knife. I don’t want to buy one from the city though, those smiths never sharpen them enough…
Among the piles of dead Skaven and Dwarves, she saw an irregularly shiny glint within. She reached in, and felt something metal. A ring. She held it in front of her face, a bronze-shaded circle which she slipped onto her index finger.
Suddenly, she felt more… fleet. Her heartbeat quickened, her eyes darted here and there, her hands twitched. Whatever the ring was, it seemed to slightly speed up her movements. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but it would help.
Also, among the corpse heap, she managed to scavenge a few gold coins. They would definitely fetch her something back home, maybe another dagger. She saw that the others were making their way into the Dwarven fortress, and she followed them in.
Her lust for blood was still going strong, despite her near-death experience with the rat ogre. If Grendrick hadn’t intervened, she would have been killed. Painfully. She made a mental note to thank him later, after they got out of the rift. If they got out of the rift. Even with Siph, a veteran adventurer, Sylvia knew the worst could happen to the best. In her experience, it usually did.
The interior of the Dwarven fort was quite beautiful. Shades of metal she never even knew existed shone before her eyes, and seemingly master-crafted statues and architecture made the whole place have sort of an uncomfortable feel to it, like she was a guest inside a rich man’s house. Everything inside seemed to be out of her reach, out of her understanding.
Now, however, she heard the sounds of battle: Screams, metal clashing upon metal, and since the Dwarves were here, loud crunches that could only be made by their warhammers. The Dwarf king, who was presumably the one clad in golden armor, rushed out in front of his men, caving in Skaven skulls as he went.
Sylvia checked her armor. The rings were broken in places, leaving wide exposed gaps where a stray blade could get through. She was faced with a choice: The chainmail was heavy, especially for someone of her size. If she ditched it, she could move much more freely, dodge attacks and whatnot. However, if she got hit by the Skaven, it would most likely be a mortal wound, if not a fatal blow. If she kept the armor, she could take another hit, but after that the armor would just be dead weight.
I swear, I am going to kill the man who made that chainmail shirt. If I didn't kill him already...
She sighed, and removed the chainmail, dropping it to the ground next to her. She could still feel the aching bruises from when that Skaven stabbed her earlier. She breathed short, quick breaths, trying to will the pain away. She drew her knife, blood from earlier Skaven crusting on the blade.
Come on, you vermin. I’ll draw your blood tenfold before you draw mine.
I really need a better knife. I don’t want to buy one from the city though, those smiths never sharpen them enough…
Among the piles of dead Skaven and Dwarves, she saw an irregularly shiny glint within. She reached in, and felt something metal. A ring. She held it in front of her face, a bronze-shaded circle which she slipped onto her index finger.
Suddenly, she felt more… fleet. Her heartbeat quickened, her eyes darted here and there, her hands twitched. Whatever the ring was, it seemed to slightly speed up her movements. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but it would help.
Also, among the corpse heap, she managed to scavenge a few gold coins. They would definitely fetch her something back home, maybe another dagger. She saw that the others were making their way into the Dwarven fortress, and she followed them in.
Her lust for blood was still going strong, despite her near-death experience with the rat ogre. If Grendrick hadn’t intervened, she would have been killed. Painfully. She made a mental note to thank him later, after they got out of the rift. If they got out of the rift. Even with Siph, a veteran adventurer, Sylvia knew the worst could happen to the best. In her experience, it usually did.
The interior of the Dwarven fort was quite beautiful. Shades of metal she never even knew existed shone before her eyes, and seemingly master-crafted statues and architecture made the whole place have sort of an uncomfortable feel to it, like she was a guest inside a rich man’s house. Everything inside seemed to be out of her reach, out of her understanding.
Now, however, she heard the sounds of battle: Screams, metal clashing upon metal, and since the Dwarves were here, loud crunches that could only be made by their warhammers. The Dwarf king, who was presumably the one clad in golden armor, rushed out in front of his men, caving in Skaven skulls as he went.
Sylvia checked her armor. The rings were broken in places, leaving wide exposed gaps where a stray blade could get through. She was faced with a choice: The chainmail was heavy, especially for someone of her size. If she ditched it, she could move much more freely, dodge attacks and whatnot. However, if she got hit by the Skaven, it would most likely be a mortal wound, if not a fatal blow. If she kept the armor, she could take another hit, but after that the armor would just be dead weight.
I swear, I am going to kill the man who made that chainmail shirt. If I didn't kill him already...
She sighed, and removed the chainmail, dropping it to the ground next to her. She could still feel the aching bruises from when that Skaven stabbed her earlier. She breathed short, quick breaths, trying to will the pain away. She drew her knife, blood from earlier Skaven crusting on the blade.
Come on, you vermin. I’ll draw your blood tenfold before you draw mine.
Sylvia was right behind the ogre, and she now realized how small she was compared to the muscle-ridden, berserker of a rat.
If that thing grabs me it’ll… she didn’t want to finish the thought. She saw how savage the normal Skaven were, from the Dwarf corpses on the ground. She didn’t want to imagine what the infinitely more barbaric ogre would do to a fragile human such as her.
She shook such thoughts from her head.
If I do this correctly, I won’t have to worry about such things.
She quickly scanned the ogre’s back, noting the several bumps that represented its spinal cord. If her knowledge was correct, the higher up the injury to the spine, the deadlier it was. She weighed her options. He couldn’t simply slash at the spine with her dagger; the bone was too thick, especially for a beast of this size. The blade would simply fail to cut into the bone. She had to jam her dagger deep into its spine, to sever the nerves within and paralyze it.
She took a deep breath. Such a simple thing as stabbing a lumbering, quarter-wit rat in the back was a difficult thing to, especially since the ogre was thrashing around due to Marianne’s insects and other such distractions. If she missed, which meant missing the spine and striking flesh, it would instantly alert the ogre and spell agonizing death for her. She knew she couldn’t dodge as fast or fight as well as the others: Her skill lay in her ability to conceal herself and strike when it was the most essential, to put all of her energy and calculation into a single, critical hit.
She raised her dagger, aimed for the gap between two vertebrae, and brought it down into the ogre’s back with all of her might, praying that her shot was true.
Edited again
Boom, edited.
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