Sir Lurksalot

The Justice Society

Alright, honestly fresh out of entirely original ideas, so I figure I'll just toss out an old favourite with a few modifications.

Also, forgive me if it's a bit rough, even for a WIP; kinda running on the vague memory of sleep.

Edit: FINISHED.

The Champion

Name – Duncan McKay
Alias – Champion (sometimes reffered to as the 'Hero of Halifax' or the 'Lion of Nova Scotia')
Age – 26
Powers –
CELTIC MAGIC: As the (supposed) descendants of some badass mage-knight of ancient Welsh and Brythonic legend, Duncan's family is no stranger to funky powers showing up in their ranks. His granddad, for example, was blessed with an unnaturally long life; something that saw him through both World Wars, Korea, Malaya and a brief stint as a mercenary in Vietnam but could still pass for a guy in his forties to this very day. Another good example would be Duncan's dad— God rest his soul— who was built so impossibly, stupidly, insanely tough that it took the Taliban two weeks and an obscene amount of rockets, bullets and bombs to stop his one-man rampage through Helmand Province after they made the mistake of hamburgering his entire platoon and kidnapping a bunch of schoolgirls in the village they were staying in.

It is weird for these powers to manifest so strongly as they have in Duncan, though. And neither his grandpappy or the big ol' family Book of Weird Things compiled over the centuries can really explain that. These abilities include...

Strength: Duncan, despite only standing at a good 5'6" on a good day, is... for a lack of a better way of putting it, strong. Very Strong. Ridiculously friggin' strong. So much so that while he hasn't yet beaten the Captain in an arm-wrestling contest, he has at least made the guy grunt, strain and work for it every time.

Magic Resilience: Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you look at it), Duncan found out quite early on in his superhero career that his lineage makes him quite resilient to a great deal of offensive magics; with most of your more typical elemental-based spells simply ricocheting off him on impact. Experience has taught him that there are... a lot of exceptions though; the kind of magic that throws a giant rock at his head for instance is still, well, throwing a giant rock— And will hit him just as hard as it would anyone else. The more esoteric kinds of magic— curses, hexes, glowing ropes that make you tell the truth, etc.— also tend to have an easier time getting around his defenses.

Flames of Annwyn: Easily the most 'out there' of Duncan's powers; the ability to summon up and make use of an inexplicable magical blue fire either as a projectile, something to wrap his fist in or even to envelope his entire body with. Being magical in nature, the boy also has a fine control over what and how it burns; from an intense inferno that'd turn titanium high carbon steel alloys to silly putty, to a pleasantly warm breeze on a summer's day to even occasionally weirdly brisk and cool. Made all the more confusing by the fact that you could be standing right smack-dab in the middle of it and wouldn't feel a damned thing unless he wanted you to.

This was the first power Duncan ever manifested, and (thankfully) the one he has the most control over, describing it to anyone who bothers to ask how it works as 'Kinda like a weird, wispy fifth limb'.

Endurance/Nigh-Invulnerability: Pretty self-explanatory; the kid can really take a beating— being of that same tier of toughness you'd find Kryptonians, Amazons and particularly juiced Atlanteans in— and doesn't tire easily either, even under the kind of strain and exertion that should turn a normal man into hamburger meat.

(Theoretical) Super Speed: Now, for someone as strong as our boy the Champion is, ya gotta figure that would extend to the muscles in his legs too, right? I mean, if he can punch that hard and fast, it'd make sense that he could run like all hell too, right? Weeeell... you would be correct— and as a matter of fact, he's done that a few times in the past— there is the slight issue that, unlike a Kryptonian or an actual speedster, Isaac Newton thoroughly has him by the balls. Making the vast majority of his attempts to go fast end with an abrupt, headlong collision into something hard, unpleasant and just a bit embarrassing... so he generally avoids doing that.

Flight(?): Recently, during a bout of sparring, Champ learned that he could... kinda float and stay right side up if he really puts his mind to it. Though he hasn't actually gotten much use out it as yet, as any subsequent attempt to expand upon that and actually fly have ended rather poorly; with results varying between suddenly being stuck floating upside down or pinned to the ceiling, uncontrollably spinning like a top, launching himself backwards and on at least one occasion, slamming into every single wall around him before embedding himself four feet into the ground.

Suffice to say, he's decided to stop messing with it for the time being.

Water Breathing: Kind of the random outlier among his talents, though he's hardly one to complain about not drowning.

Fluency in Latin, Greek and Old Welsh: Kinda comes part and parcel with growing up in his particular family. Though generally useless in most circumstances.

Can Cook: Truly his greatest power of all, because it's the one his mom gave to him.

Weaknesses –
Not Actually Invulnerable: Despite all his resilience and durability, any foe in his weight class or above can (and indeed, in the past, has) pound him into the dirt.

Magical in Nature, but Magically Vulnerable: Unlike a wizard, or any of your more typical spell-casty types that gain their abilities from years of study, an outside source or the occasional culty demon ritual, Duncan's abilities are intrinsic to his very being. Which can be one hell of a double-edged sword as any effect that actively dampens magic will quickly depower him on the spot and, through prolonged exposure, inevitably lead to extreme fatigue, internal hemorrhaging, organ failure and finally death. It also means he has a much harder time than most fighting off magics that attack his mind instead of his body.

Not a Kryptonian: It should go without saying, but... Duncan can't survive in space. He also has to eat, sleep, drink and breathe if he wants to keep on living and, though in some cases he's more resilient than others, he's not at all immune to poisons or toxins ingested orally or inhaled as a gas.

Personality – Plucky, Clever, Reliable, Rough-Around-the-Edges, Genuine
Experience – Six Years
Appearance/Face Claim – Actually keeps two costumes. Not for any symbolic reasons, mind you, but to rotate between while the other's in the wash. Occasionally wears his granddad's old leather jacket over top and sometimes even a ballcap from some local minor-league hockey team or some pub, too.

BRIEF Bio –

According to Welsh legend, long ago, during the twilight years of a dying Empire, when the last bloodstained caligae of the Roman Legions stepped off the shores of Britannia never to return, Cynyr the Red, King of Dyfed was granted a vision by Arawn, master of Annwyn; the mythical 'Otherworld' of Celtic belief.

In it, he witnessed a man— as yet unborn— a mighty warrior and a slayer of giants. Stubborn, with a temper that burned forever hot, but with a heart that would be eternally cold. A peerless soldier, completely devoid of fear, able to brave fire or water like no other man alive and possessing the ability radiate an unnatural heat from his hands, to go over a week without the need to sleep or breathe or to grow as tall as the mightiest tree if he so wished it.

This man was Cai Hir (Kay the Tall, to the English), his own son. Foster brother and dear friend to Arthur Pendragon and hero of Camelot, whom the Once and Future King himself would supposedly recall in the (fragmented) 10th Century poem Pa Gur:

"Prince of the plunder, / The unrelenting warrior to his enemy; / Heavy was he in his vengeance; / Savage was his fighting.
When he would drink from a horn, / He would drink as much as four; / When into battle he came / He slew as would a hundred.
Unless God should accomplish it, / Cai's death would be unattainable.
Worthy Cai and Llachau / Used to fight battles, / Before the pain of livid spears [ended the conflict].
On the top of Ystarfingun / Cai slew nine witches. / Worthy Cai went to Ynys Mon / To destroy lions. / Little protection did his shield offer / Against Palug's Cat."

Though unquestioningly loyal, and a great champion of the realm, these same legends almost always end on the same note; that at some point, Kay and Arthur have a falling out, with the former leaving the latter's court and swearing never to return. Later myths, usually those written by the French or Germans would go even further, portraying the knight as a boorish, bumbling, bullying jackass that existed just to get in people's way— usually around the same time Lancelot started showing up in Arthurian Lore.

Most scholars gloss over that as just that old habit of poets and fanfic writers downgrading old heroes to make the new ones that would replace them look better.

Duncan's family, the McKays (a bit of a coincidental name, don'cha think?) have a slightly different opinion on the matter. Mainly because they possess the only written, firsthand account of it all by virtue of their forefather knowing how to write.

As it turns out, the rift between Kay and Arthur wasn't down to some funny song, joke or prank, but down to the fact Kay was the first to clue into the fact that Lancelot (noted in the family book as the rough Welsh equivalent of 'That Gallic Prick') was trying to bang his foster brother's wife. And so responded in the most 'Kay' way imaginable— by beating him the ever-loving hell out of with his bare hands before the rest of the knights piled on top of him to make him stop before he killed him, leading to his disgrace and exile from Camelot when not a soul at court actually believed him. And, with time, his vilification in later myth.

Even though he turned out to be absolutely right in the end.

But that's old history, lets skip ahead about a thousand years and a few thousand miles across the ocean to Halifax, Nova Scotia. A coastal port city on the Atlantic easily dwarfed by the likes Metropolis or Gotham that Kay's descendants, and more pertinent to this CS, our boy Duncan call home.

Now, old Kay, realizing what he was and that all his freaky powers were probably hereditary in one way or another, did his kids the courtesy of writing all that down as well. Turns out he was right about that, too. And since that day, pretty much every generation of the family since has had at least some form of his powers, or a mutation thereof. But after so many years, they were always prepared for it.

Suddenly realized you can bench a car? Probably what Arthur was getting at with that whole 'Slew as would a hundred' thing.
Weird blue fire? Well, Papa Cynyr did say something about 'Unnatural heat'...
Get hit by a bus and did more damage to it, than it to you? Remember that line about 'Death would be unattainable'?

So honestly, once his powers started to manifest around his twelfth birthday, it was less of a world-shattering, life-changing come to Jesus moment and more 'That annoying thing that made him stop playing hockey'. What was unusual, however was how many of these talents the boy began to manifest, and how strongly they were appearing; the last time the magic fire showed up in the family, for example, was with his aunt... and the most she could manage was heating up her coffee with it in the morning, Whereas Duncan can outright melt steel with it. And his strength? That's something that hasn't been seen to that degree since perhaps Kay himself.

For a brief moment, he considered actually making use of these talents of his, putting on the spandex and doing his part to make the world a better place... Before abruptly deciding that was a job for Captain Marvel or something and going on to live a mostly normal life, showing an aptitude as a mechanic quite early on in his youth, where he spent most of his days tinkering in his granddad's garage until finally graduating highschool and getting an apprenticeship at one of the local shipyards; working on everything between tugs, heavy freighters and the occasional naval frigate or cruiser.

And honestly? It was all working pretty great for him up until six years ago, when, during his lunchbreak on an overtime shift, some dude with scaly armour, a shiny pitchfork and a bad attitude rose out of the harbour and started trashing the place, all while raving something about this being the 'First, insignificant hurdle to his conquest of the surface'. Honestly, Duncan's memory's a little hazy on the details; what with the Atlantean Asshat literally destroying his career, having to shove his coworker out of the way of the actual laserfire from said asshat's goons, the nearby naval base and the American destroyer visiting it loudly calling all hands to battle stations and what looked suspiciously like his own car flying over his head to embed itself in the roof of the Wendy's across the street... his mind was in a different place.

What he's been told, though, is that apparently he got so fed up with the whole thing that all five and a half feet of him began stomping his way up to the offending Atlantean. Who, finding this kind of amusing, ordered his men to cease fire in order to "Let the little surfacer have his shot."

And that's when McKay kicked him right in the balls. So hard in fact, it produced a shockwave the shattered every window for half a kilometer. Seconds before ripping that golden fork out of his hands and repeatedly whacking him over the head with it for good measure.

Handily, Aquaman, who'd evidently been in the water the whole time dealing with the much larger force therein before cleaning house on the surface, arrived by his sixth swing. Defusing the boy from making a seventh with a disarming "Hey, uh... Chum? That is not how you use the Trident of Neptune..."

A quick talk later, and Duncan learned that the man he damn near rochambeau'd into low orbit was The Oceanmaster, and if the guy had actually taken him seriously from the get go, he'd likely be very dead and that he probably shouldn't make a habit of doing that too often. Still, the King of Atlantis thanked him for his part in returning the trident, and sent him on his way. Noting that they'd probably be in touch.

Two days later, in the midst of taking a break from applying for Employment Insurance online in his PJs to watch the blurry viral video of him kicking Oceanmaster in the balls on Youtube, Aquaman showed up at his front door. With a wide grin on his face, a box of Atlantean 'thank you' cookies in his hands and frickin' Captain Marvel to his left, wearing that big, dorky grin of his. Evidently, gossip about McKay's handling of the Arty's estranged had made the rounds in the hero community until it finally made it's way all the way up to The Wizard, who quickly recognized Duncan for what he was and sent his boy in red to have a little chat.

Duncan's been doing the hero thing as the Captain's plus-one ever since, eventually being asked to join the Justice Society as a heavy hitter for the new team.

Golden Age Legacy – Captain Marvel
Sample Story Arcs –
The Legend of Unky Dunky: Aquaman and Mera have decided to take a honeymoon. And, unfortunately for the Champion, have also decided to drop the kids off in his care and disappear into the ocean before he could object. Now, with a vengeful Oceanmaster watching and waiting for a chance to correct his previous humiliation, Black Manta looming in the shadows at this golden opportunity and knowing full well that he is in no way qualified to be even a temporary dad to the pair of hyperactive Atlantean kids, Duncan turns to the rest of the JSA for help. Let the babysitting begin.

Godwin's Law: Though his granddad was far from being a costumed superhero, his actions during both World Wars earned him the eternal enmity of certain people of a decidedly Teutonic persuasion; A due vendetta that Baron Krieger, otherwise known as Captain Nazi intends to collect on.

The Ticking Clock: "This is no trivial matter, Boy. You are, by your very nature, a creature of the arcane, and your body will not tolerate it's absence lightly. You'll have a day perhaps, maybe two, before the horror of what has transpired truly begins to manifest; the rotting of the marrow in your bones, the failure of your immune system, the decay of the organs still in your body followed by nightmarish hallucinations as your brain desperately fires out signals to something that isn't there anymore. All the while your muscle fibres unbind themselves from eachother, the flesh drops from your body and veins and arteries begin to leak like sieves; ensuring that even if a remedy did exist to mask the pain— which of course, will be beyond the comprehension of a mortal mind— it would be completely useless.

I wish you luck in reclaiming what was stolen from you, Dear Champion... or at least in finding a more merciful end than this."

TL;DR: Someone's stolen Duncan's magic mojo. Are you a bad enough dude to help him get it back?

Additional Notes –
Some highlights from his career so far:

-Trapping Livewire in a Commodore 64.
-Stopping a magically animated Statue of Liberty from flattening a corrupt New York Mayor (and all the buildings between him and her) by, when all else had failed, flirting with her in French.
-Adventuring to Themyscira with Aquaman and the Captain to recover a plant that could cure Aquaman's very sick (and very pregnant) wife.
-Getting their collective asses completely stomped on by angry Amazons while doing so.
-Returning with the plant, and then having to deliver the babies (twins, go figure) when Mera went into labour. Aquaman (after spending the previous day and night completely devoid of fear, unrelenting, undaunted, and as the very rock that had kept all of them alive) fainted on the spot while Marvel realized what was going on, turned pale and then an interesting shade of green and before excusing himself into the nearest bathroom.
-Consequently, being known as 'Unky Dunky' ever since those two kids learned to speak.
-Being allowed to drink coffee in the Batmobile exactly once.

Secondary Character - Dan the Dyna-Mite

The Justice Society

Been a minute SIR! lol

@Omega Man

About four years, in fact :P. Lemme see if I can fart something out or just reskin something old for this.

The Justice Society

Don't mind me as I lurk menacingly from the shadows, eyeballing this thread.

It's kinda my thing.

The Elder Scrolls: Shadow of Oblivion

The Freakin' Groundskeeper

"...So, would this be a bad time to point out that I have no idea what I'm doing?"

---

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Name: Caddach Thraigyr
Age: 19
Race: Breton, Mostly
Appearance: Of relatively modest height— standing at only 5'6"— but surprisingly built as a consequence of both his occupation and the Karthic blood in his veins. Caddach's light brown hair (with the occasional tinge of the ginge) is cut short in the legionary fashion, both to keep it out of his way and to keep his head cool during those balmy Cyrodiil summers, where he often finds himself working on the palace's roof— which also accounts for his near constant farmer's tan.

Personality: A child of Cyrodiil through and through, Caddach is a clever, hardworking, often sarcastic but all around good natured kind of lad who, despite all his family's wealth and being noble by birth, has never really acted the part; the result of growing up around many different kinds of people from all sorts of places as well as his House's general shutting out from 'Proper Society' by the Nibenese High-Nobility for their 'foreign' origins and ways. As such, to the eyes of anyone else, he's pretty much just your average kid from the Imperial City— knowing the place with the kind of intuition only a local could. Like where to get what you want, where you'll be ripped off and where to cover your coin-purse as well as being on a first-name basis with all sorts; beggars, mercs, shopkeeps, inn-keepers and guards— many of whom he's known since he was a kid and some he actually grew up with. Though that's not to say he's some soft-skinned city boy either, and his youthful travels as well as being raised largely by his grandparents have made him just as comfortable sitting at a campfire in Black Marsh, hiking through the Colovian Highlands or within the walls of Orsinium as he would be at home.

At the end of the day, despite his storied lineage and arguably much more successful siblings, our boy Caddach has never aspired to be anything more than what he actually is. Just a local guy, loyal to his Empire and Emperor, doing his job, paying his taxes and going out for a drink with his friends on the weekends or dropping in on his family to see his grandparents, maybe get a free meal out of his mum and definitely to play with the pets.

Just a guy. Nothing more, nothing less.

---

Abilities:

Skills

Groundskeeper: Caddach's job is to maintain the Imperial Palace, and he's actually gotten pretty good at it; a bit of carpentry here, a bit of slating or masonry there, sweeping or scrubbing the floors... That kind of thing.

Innawoods Survival Training: A consequence of all those trips he took as a boy, and going out camping with his grandparents so often; Caddach is actually quite comfortable in the outdoors and can hunt, scavenge, fish, build a fire to cook things he hunts, scavenges and fishes and doesn't do too bad of a job at the cooking part either. Can also do the basic things like building a lean-to to protect himself from the elements when he sleeps and knows where to, and more importantly, where not to dig a latrine.

Animal Knowledge: When you grow up with a Druid and a Reachman for grandparents, in a house with many animals, like, for example; a lazy sabrecat, a cuddly, very well taken care of and affectionate skeever and multiple horse-sized wolves... you learn a few things. Though this will likely not see much use outside of perhaps tracking game, identifying and warding off wild animals and perhaps, just maybe, deactivating a hostile— or just scared— beast with the application of precision scritches in the right spot.

Martial Knowledge: Though he hasn't seriously trained with a weapon in years, as a scion to a family of knights, a good chunk of his youth before entering the Arcane University (and even then, unofficially carrying it on under his 'tutor') was spent in martial training, making him familiar with weapons of all kinds— and having more of a knack for it at the time than maybe even he himself realised... Though the most he gets out of it these days is the occasional spar with bored palace guards or a few nobles.

Educated: Though Caddach doesn't speak, or usually act all that differently than your other average kid born and raised in the Imperial City, and generally keeps his mouth shut and his head down while doing his work, he's actually far more clever than he ever really lets on. Sharp, even for a Breton and not at all hindered by his family's relative wealth affording him a damned decent education from an early age and access to all the books he could ever want as a kid.

Magicka: Before his unceremonious booting from the Arcane University, Caddach managed to pick up a thing or two from his... particularly unorthodox teacher. Namely a bit of restoration, some uncommon tricks from the school of destruction (like the ability to use melee weapons as a magical focus, though he is somewhat out of practice with it) and an actually impressive amount from the school of alteration; some of which are technically forbidden under Tamrielic law.

Herbalism: Caddach's dear old grandma Elyza was a druid back in the day, and made sure to pass on some of her knowledge to her darling little 'Snuggle-Bug'. So while his tumultuous time at the Arcane University prevented him from becoming a proper alchemist, he still has more than enough knowledge to identify and make use of nature's bounty to know what can be eaten and to create everything from salves, tonics and remedies to more mundane things like good spices, soothing teas, refreshing poscas and some of grandma's assorted super-secret recipes for food and snacks.

Magic

Destruction

Frost: Skilled enough to use it offensively... maybe, but these days Caddach uses it mainly to chill his drink or, on a really hot day, on himself to cool off, so he's a bit out of practice.

Fire: As above, our boy is— theoretically, anyway— skilled enough to make use of fire spells on the attack. However, Caddach hasn't actually done so in a while, mainly using it for mundane things like heating his tea or cooking his lunch on the fly, so he's juuuuust a bit rusty.

Shock: Something Caddach was trained extensively in, both by Ted and his grandfather before that, as a Nine-Damned lightning bolt to the face is an immediate and particularly effective 'Fuck you and your mom' to anybody looking for the smoke. However, he basically hasn't used it at all since taking on his new job, as there isn't much place for lightning in the day-to-day life of a Groundskeeper, so he's severely out of practice.

Water: A neat, non-standard variation of the Frost spell Caddach picked up as a kid. Useful for a quick drink on the go, filling canteens and buckets or hosing down your friends as a cheeky prank. Actually gets a lot of use out of this one on hot days.

Alteration

Glowlight: One of Caddach's more day-to-day spells, mainly because it's a helluva lot better than carrying a torch around all day on the off-chance he has to keep working into the night. With the added bonus that it's a lot less likely to catch things (like, say, tar) on fire.

Waterwalking: One of the first spells Caddach ever learned as a child, and something he used so often it became almost second nature. Great for not drowning if you fall off a boat, getting to weird places or, if you were a dumb kid like he was in his youth, infinite amusement riding those big damned waves off the Gold Coast. Also very useful for catching slaughterfish, oddly enough; As all you really have to do is stand there, wiggle your feet to get one's attention, then step out of the way as it comes up— mad as all Oblivion and looking for your toes— and whack it with a stick.

Waterbreathing: Something else he learned early on when he was a kid, partly as a back up in case the waterwalking thing failed for some reason and partly because he had a lot of Argonian friends growing up, and the spell helped him keep up with their innate ability to breathe underwater all those times they went out for a dive in the Niben looking for cool stuff or for a bit of spear fishing.

Feather/Burden: A combo of spells Caddach's Dremora friend was damned sure to drill into his head for their utility and for the fact that, in his own words "Anything you can make weigh a few hundred pounds on the downswing is a damned fine weapon.". Unlike a lot of other things he learned from Ted, he actually uses these almost every damned day in his new job, as there's no shortage of heavy things he has to carry or hammers that could use juuuust a little more 'Oomph!'.

Shield: Another hand-me-down from Ted, who reasoned that if the boy was going to be throwing spells, he might as well learn how to protect against them, too— As well as any hypothetical jackass comes at him with a big damned axe or something of the like. Suffice to say, hasn't really had much use of it as of late.

Levitation: Another thing he learned from Ted; While Caddach is nowhere near the level of, say, the masters in Morrowind (who can outright fly), he can 'Jump good' and 'Not die' pretty great after coming down, too. And while these feats are technically illegal under the so-called Levitation Act of 3E 421, the Palace Guards have always looked the other way the one or two times where he (or a coworker) have fallen off the roof and he chose to break the law instead of making a big red mess all over the Emperor's lawn.

Unlock: Really great for when Caddach forgets his keys.

Restoration

Healing: It was never his strong suit, but Caddach can heal his own wounds and to a lesser extent, others. Though it's a slower process than someone who's actually skilled in the art and a whole lot less... pleasant; with wounds still leaving behind gnarly scars afterward and bones roughly snapping back into place instead of gently weaving themselves back together as they normally would.

Fortify Strength/Speed: Something Caddach learned very quickly after he started going on those dives with his friends as a kid. More specifically, after encountering his first swarm of slaughterfish and having to piggyback a (slightly chewed) Argonian all the way home.

Equipment:

Personal Items

-Work clothes; Leather boots with steel toe-caps, brown work pants with a whole lotta pockets bloused into said boots to stop them getting caught on things, and a simple, white short-sleeved shirt with more than a few stains on it from his job.
-A little paper bag of the Arena's home brand of jerky, sweet and spicy flavoured.
-Two little bread rolls.
-A wet cloth one of the guards gave him on request, one that he's frosted over to have something cool to hold against his now very sore head and black eye.

The Lock Box

-His keys, both for around the palace and to his family home.
-A Wine-skin filled with honey-juniper posca.
-A set of dice.

Background:

The Charming Tale of a Young Man Destined to be Punched in the Face

Born to a branch of an ancient, though (until relatively recently) minor noble house from the Westreach region of High Rock that had migrated down to the Imperial City in his grandparents' day, Caddach had... honestly, a pretty damned decent childhood. Though not high enough on the social totem pole to be invited to those kinds of galas, banquets and balls the Nibenese elite like to throw every other day, partly due to being considered 'Foreigners', even after three generations of living in the capital and partly due to the sheer scandal of a family perceived to be far too friendly with those savages of the Reach— though that accusation in particular actually has some truth to it, as the young man's grandfather and namesake being very much a Reachman, his mother half-so, though she tried to hide it, and even his father's side of the family being suspiciously broad-shouldered and more sturdily built than most Bretons— the tidy profit his family earned from the overland trade of rare alchemical goods, ores and animals from their holdings in the Westreach, spices from eastern Hammerfell and lumber from Colovia meant that he and his family could live very comfortably indeed. Even moreso when his eldest brother took the two remaining ships the family had mothballed in Anvil after trade across the Abecean dried up in the wake of the War of Betony to extend their usual trade route down the Niben and into southern Elsweyr and Black Marsh.

So, Caddach whittled his days away as a youth away playing in the streets with the other neighbourhood kids like any child of the Imperial City would, learning how to fight as any Thraigyr child should and every once in a while riding out on the back of his Karthwolf, Ryka (a very good girl, in case you were wondering) to visit his uncle out in Kvatch, or going up the trade route with his dad one way to visit friends and relatives in High Rock, Hammerfell and Orsinium or down the other to meet with new trading partners in Elsweyr and Argonia— One trip to the latter in particular resulting in a tattoo on his shoulder a local shaman insisted he should have, the boy himself thought was kind of neat and his mother absolutely hated.

Finally, at the age of fourteen, his second oldest brother began poking him about joining him in the Legions in a few years time. But his heart was set on writing his entrance exams and getting into the Arcane University, so he could stay close to home, which he did that very same year.

And incidentally, that's about when his life ceased to be a charming tale of a young lad traveling the world and making new friends along the way and became a outright fucking comedy.

For no sooner did he walk in the front door to the highest institution of learning in the entire Empire, did he encounter Saullon Ocato— or as he'll call him 'til the day he dies; 'The Fuckwit'— who took one look at him up and down and decided that there was no way in Nirn or Oblivion that this 'Little Barbarian Shit' was going to pollute his university. And very quickly, Caddach would find to his initial horror and eventual annoyance that any potion he mixed would either fail or just blow up in his face, any book he tried to study or report he tried to write would mysteriously either go missing, burst into flames, or some other crazy shit, and any official he tried to bring this apparent sabotage to the attention to, or Nine forbid asked to be taught by being dismissive, mocking, aloof, outright hostile or any combination of the above.

Nevermind all the times his clothes would just vanish off his body as he walked through the halls. Or freeze solid. Or spontaneously combust. Or all the times Saul and his ilk would just casually stroll up and punch him right in the godsdamned face, knowing full well he wasn't allowed to hit them back— Something in particular that galled Caddach as he was pretty certain he only needed to punch the spindly Altmer exactly once to snap every bone above his shoulders.

A few months into his new career, unable to learn, no one willing to teach him but with his family having supported the university too generously in the past (while probably being unaware of it's inner workings) to get rid of him, the lad would find himself downgraded to being essentially an unpaid janitor. Which is where, oddly enough, he found the only instructor he'd ever have his whole time there- 'Ted', Saullon's own bound Daedra who'd been stuck with him for over a decade and hated the little bastard even more than Caddach did. And who was more than happy to teach him all sorts of things the instructors never would, even if they were doing their jobs; like how to fool magic wards, pop open locks with a touch, the first two phases of now very illegal levitation magic and how to really fight with magic. Things Caddach would use to get into the library to sneakily read all the books that were suddenly forbidden to him, and educate himself on all the gaps that Ted couldn't teach.

Two years past that, our boy had long since given up on ever rising above his status as the unofficial toilet-scrubber for the University and was simply learning for his own sake. Riiiiight up until he found one book in particular, one he realized he had to study thoroughly, spending an entire week on it, in fact. Following which he'd toss his mage robes directly into the trash, and go looking for Saullon, who he'd find as he typically did throughout the day, with his whole hypesquad of dipshits and a grumbling Ted in tow and immediately unbound the powerful Daedra right on the spot with all he'd learned from that particular book, a last favour to the best friend he had ever made in that damned place. Who, in turn, must've been the happiest Dremora that ever fucking existed.

He had been waiting years to deliver this ass-whooping, after all.

As Caddach expected, he was immediately expelled from the Arcane University for that particular stunt, though officially he was let go for his poor grades; the full scope of the incident and all that led up to it being a serious threat too many careers if it ever made the light of day in an official report. At that point, though, Caddach could really give less of a shit about it, and was just happy to leave. There was the slight possibility however that Saullon, being of distant relation to the High Chancellor of the Elder Council, might come back to bite him and more alarmingly his family in the ass, but as it turned out, Ocato of Firsthold hated the Fuckwit just as much as he did, and was actually pretty pleased to see him get a healthy dose of reality (and Daedric fists) to the face.

Hell, that's probably what got him his current job in the first place. As not even three days after the 'incident', one of his childhood friends from the block who grew up to be a member of Imperial Intelligence just happened to arrive at exactly the moment his mother's screaming about how he'd ruined his own career reached it's daily crescendo to offer to take him to the palace to interview for a suddenly open position as a groundskeeper. Which he was more than happy to take him up on as it got him out of that damned house. Where he would meet with a Khajiiti aide to the Council who would go over the specifics of the job, how he'd be apprenticed to masons, slaters, carpenters— he would pause a moment to note with the kind of amused smirk only a cat could pull off that 'This one is told you don't need to be taught how to clean'—, that he'd stay in the general servants quarters for a few months before getting his own little room, and that, most importantly— and they really stressed this— he was to "Pay attention."

And there he's been ever since. Cleaning out eavestroughs, scrubbing floors, re-slating the roof and, most importantly watching, listening and learning as he was instructed to do those three years ago. And honestly? He kinda likes it. Sure, the labour can be rough sometimes, and you get a lot of weird things going on in the Imperial Palace, buuuuut, it pays well, the room, food and haircuts are free, he gets weekends off and he's actually made a few friends among the other palace staff and guards; even going out to the Arena then onto Daggerfall Dan's after quittin' time every other Fredas.

All in all, he's back to a comfortable life.

...Well, was.

Right up until the big boss let him off early to go see the big fight in the arena and some dickhead tripped him in the bar afterward, making him spill some beer. Which, subsequently, earned him the mother of all punches to the face.

He doesn't know it yet, but his life's about to get a whole lot less comfy.

...The massive shiner he's currently wearing aside.

The Elder Scrolls: Shadow of Oblivion

@Alfhedil
Donezo!

The Elder Scrolls: Shadow of Oblivion

The Freakin' Groundskeeper

"...So, would this be a bad time to point out that I have no idea what I'm doing?"

---

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Name: Caddach Thraigyr
Age: 19
Race: Breton, Mostly
Appearance: Of relatively modest height— standing at only 5'6"— but surprisingly built as a consequence of both his occupation and the Karthic blood in his veins. Caddach's light brown hair (with the occasional tinge of the ginge) is cut short in the legionary fashion, both to keep it out of his way and to keep his head cool during those balmy Cyrodiil summers, where he often finds himself working on the palace's roof— which also accounts for his near constant farmer's tan.

Personality: A child of Cyrodiil through and through, Caddach is a clever, hardworking, often sarcastic but all around good natured kind of lad who, despite all his family's wealth and being noble by birth, has never really acted the part; the result of growing up around many different kinds of people from all sorts of places as well as his House's general shutting out from 'Proper Society' by the Nibenese High-Nobility for their 'foreign' origins and ways. As such, to the eyes of anyone else, he's pretty much just your average kid from the Imperial City— knowing the place with the kind of intuition only a local could. Like where to get what you want, where you'll be ripped off and where to cover your coin-purse as well as being on a first-name basis with all sorts; beggars, mercs, shopkeeps, inn-keepers and guards— many of whom he's known since he was a kid and some he actually grew up with. Though that's not to say he's some soft-skinned city boy either, and his youthful travels as well as being raised largely by his grandparents have made him just as comfortable sitting at a campfire in Black Marsh, hiking through the Colovian Highlands or within the walls of Orsinium as he would be at home.

At the end of the day, despite his storied lineage and arguably much more successful siblings, our boy Caddach has never aspired to be anything more than what he actually is. Just a local guy, loyal to his Empire and Emperor, doing his job, paying his taxes and going out for a drink with his friends on the weekends or dropping in on his family to see his grandparents, maybe get a free meal out of his mum and definitely to play with the pets.

Just a guy. Nothing more, nothing less.

---

Abilities:

Skills

Groundskeeper: Caddach's job is to maintain the Imperial Palace, and he's actually gotten pretty good at it; a bit of carpentry here, a bit of slating or masonry there, sweeping or scrubbing the floors... That kind of thing.

Innawoods Survival Training: A consequence of all those trips he took as a boy, and going out camping with his grandparents so often; Caddach is actually quite comfortable in the outdoors and can hunt, scavenge, fish, build a fire to cook things he hunts, scavenges and fishes and doesn't do too bad of a job at the cooking part either. Can also do the basic things like building a lean-to to protect himself from the elements when he sleeps and knows where to, and more importantly, where not to dig a latrine.

Animal Knowledge: When you grow up with a Druid and a Reachman for grandparents, in a house with many animals, like, for example; a lazy sabrecat, a cuddly, very well taken care of and affectionate skeever and multiple horse-sized wolves... you learn a few things. Though this will likely not see much use outside of perhaps tracking game, identifying and warding off wild animals and perhaps, just maybe, deactivating a hostile— or just scared— beast with the application of precision scritches in the right spot.

Martial Knowledge: Though he hasn't seriously trained with a weapon in years, as a scion to a family of knights, a good chunk of his youth before entering the Arcane University (and even then, unofficially carrying it on under his 'tutor') was spent in martial training, making him familiar with weapons of all kinds— and having more of a knack for it at the time than maybe even he himself realised... Though the most he gets out of it these days is the occasional spar with bored palace guards or a few nobles.

Educated: Though Caddach doesn't speak, or usually act all that differently than your other average kid born and raised in the Imperial City, and generally keeps his mouth shut and his head down while doing his work, he's actually far more clever than he ever really lets on. Sharp, even for a Breton and not at all hindered by his family's relative wealth affording him a damned decent education from an early age and access to all the books he could ever want as a kid.

Magicka: Before his unceremonious booting from the Arcane University, Caddach managed to pick up a thing or two from his... particularly unorthodox teacher. Namely a bit of restoration, some uncommon tricks from the school of destruction (like the ability to use melee weapons as a magical focus, though he is somewhat out of practice with it) and an actually impressive amount from the school of alteration; some of which are technically forbidden under Tamrielic law.

Herbalism: Caddach's dear old grandma Elyza was a druid back in the day, and made sure to pass on some of her knowledge to her darling little 'Snuggle-Bug'. So while his tumultuous time at the Arcane University prevented him from becoming a proper alchemist, he still has more than enough knowledge to identify and make use of nature's bounty to know what can be eaten and to create everything from salves, tonics and remedies to more mundane things like good spices, soothing teas, refreshing poscas and some of grandma's assorted super-secret recipes for food and snacks.

Magic

Destruction

Frost: Skilled enough to use it offensively... maybe, but these days Caddach uses it mainly to chill his drink or, on a really hot day, on himself to cool off, so he's a bit out of practice.

Fire: As above, our boy is— theoretically, anyway— skilled enough to make use of fire spells on the attack. However, Caddach hasn't actually done so in a while, mainly using it for mundane things like heating his tea or cooking his lunch on the fly, so he's juuuuust a bit rusty.

Shock: Something Caddach was trained extensively in, both by Ted and his grandfather before that, as a Nine-Damned lightning bolt to the face is an immediate and particularly effective 'Fuck you and your mom' to anybody looking for the smoke. However, he basically hasn't used it at all since taking on his new job, as there isn't much place for lightning in the day-to-day life of a Groundskeeper, so he's severely out of practice.

Water: A neat, non-standard variation of the Frost spell Caddach picked up as a kid. Useful for a quick drink on the go, filling canteens and buckets or hosing down your friends as a cheeky prank. Actually gets a lot of use out of this one on hot days.

Alteration

Glowlight: One of Caddach's more day-to-day spells, mainly because it's a helluva lot better than carrying a torch around all day on the off-chance he has to keep working into the night. With the added bonus that it's a lot less likely to catch things (like, say, tar) on fire.

Waterwalking: One of the first spells Caddach ever learned as a child, and something he used so often it became almost second nature. Great for not drowning if you fall off a boat, getting to weird places or, if you were a dumb kid like he was in his youth, infinite amusement riding those big damned waves off the Gold Coast. Also very useful for catching slaughterfish, oddly enough; As all you really have to do is stand there, wiggle your feet to get one's attention, then step out of the way as it comes up— mad as all Oblivion and looking for your toes— and whack it with a stick.

Waterbreathing: Something else he learned early on when he was a kid, partly as a back up in case the waterwalking thing failed for some reason and partly because he had a lot of Argonian friends growing up, and the spell helped him keep up with their innate ability to breathe underwater all those times they went out for a dive in the Niben looking for cool stuff or for a bit of spear fishing.

Feather/Burden: A combo of spells Caddach's Dremora friend was damned sure to drill into his head for their utility and for the fact that, in his own words "Anything you can make weigh a few hundred pounds on the downswing is a damned fine weapon.". Unlike a lot of other things he learned from Ted, he actually uses these almost every damned day in his new job, as there's no shortage of heavy things he has to carry or hammers that could use juuuust a little more 'Oomph!'.

Shield: Another hand-me-down from Ted, who reasoned that if the boy was going to be throwing spells, he might as well learn how to protect against them, too— As well as any hypothetical jackass comes at him with a big damned axe or something of the like. Suffice to say, hasn't really had much use of it as of late.

Levitation: Another thing he learned from Ted; While Caddach is nowhere near the level of, say, the masters in Morrowind (who can outright fly), he can 'Jump good' and 'Not die' pretty great after coming down, too. And while these feats are technically illegal under the so-called Levitation Act of 3E 421, the Palace Guards have always looked the other way the one or two times where he (or a coworker) have fallen off the roof and he chose to break the law instead of making a big red mess all over the Emperor's lawn.

Unlock: Really great for when Caddach forgets his keys.

Restoration

Healing: It was never his strong suit, but Caddach can heal his own wounds and to a lesser extent, others. Though it's a slower process than someone who's actually skilled in the art and a whole lot less... pleasant; with wounds still leaving behind gnarly scars afterward and bones roughly snapping back into place instead of gently weaving themselves back together as they normally would.

Fortify Strength/Speed: Something Caddach learned very quickly after he started going on those dives with his friends as a kid. More specifically, after encountering his first swarm of slaughterfish and having to piggyback a (slightly chewed) Argonian all the way home.

Equipment:

Personal Items

-Work clothes; Leather boots with steel toe-caps, brown work pants with a whole lotta pockets bloused into said boots to stop them getting caught on things, and a simple, white short-sleeved shirt with more than a few stains on it from his job.
-A little paper bag of the Arena's home brand of jerky, sweet and spicy flavoured.
-Two little bread rolls.
-A wet cloth one of the guards gave him on request, one that he's frosted over to have something cool to hold against his now very sore head and black eye.

The Lock Box

-His keys, both for around the palace and to his family home.
-A Wine-skin filled with honey-juniper posca.
-A set of dice.

Background:

The Charming Tale of a Young Man Destined to be Punched in the Face

Born to a branch of an ancient, though (until relatively recently) minor noble house from the Westreach region of High Rock that had migrated down to the Imperial City in his grandparents' day, Caddach had... honestly, a pretty damned decent childhood. Though not high enough on the social totem pole to be invited to those kinds of galas, banquets and balls the Nibenese elite like to throw every other day, partly due to being considered 'Foreigners', even after three generations of living in the capital and partly due to the sheer scandal of a family perceived to be far too friendly with those savages of the Reach— though that accusation in particular actually has some truth to it, as the young man's grandfather and namesake being very much a Reachman, his mother half-so, though she tried to hide it, and even his father's side of the family being suspiciously broad-shouldered and more sturdily built than most Bretons— the tidy profit his family earned from the overland trade of rare alchemical goods, ores and animals from their holdings in the Westreach, spices from eastern Hammerfell and lumber from Colovia meant that he and his family could live very comfortably indeed. Even moreso when his eldest brother took the two remaining ships the family had mothballed in Anvil after trade across the Abecean dried up in the wake of the War of Betony to extend their usual trade route down the Niben and into southern Elsweyr and Black Marsh.

So, Caddach whittled his days away as a youth away playing in the streets with the other neighbourhood kids like any child of the Imperial City would, learning how to fight as any Thraigyr child should and every once in a while riding out on the back of his Karthwolf, Ryka (a very good girl, in case you were wondering) to visit his uncle out in Kvatch, or going up the trade route with his dad one way to visit friends and relatives in High Rock, Hammerfell and Orsinium or down the other to meet with new trading partners in Elsweyr and Argonia— One trip to the latter in particular resulting in a tattoo on his shoulder a local shaman insisted he should have, the boy himself thought was kind of neat and his mother absolutely hated.

Finally, at the age of fourteen, his second oldest brother began poking him about joining him in the Legions in a few years time. But his heart was set on writing his entrance exams and getting into the Arcane University, so he could stay close to home, which he did that very same year.

And incidentally, that's about when his life ceased to be a charming tale of a young lad traveling the world and making new friends along the way and became a outright fucking comedy.

For no sooner did he walk in the front door to the highest institution of learning in the entire Empire, did he encounter Saullon Ocato— or as he'll call him 'til the day he dies; 'The Fuckwit'— who took one look at him up and down and decided that there was no way in Nirn or Oblivion that this 'Little Barbarian Shit' was going to pollute his university. And very quickly, Caddach would find to his initial horror and eventual annoyance that any potion he mixed would either fail or just blow up in his face, any book he tried to study or report he tried to write would mysteriously either go missing, burst into flames, or some other crazy shit, and any official he tried to bring this apparent sabotage to the attention to, or Nine forbid asked to be taught by being dismissive, mocking, aloof, outright hostile or any combination of the above.

Nevermind all the times his clothes would just vanish off his body as he walked through the halls. Or freeze solid. Or spontaneously combust. Or all the times Saul and his ilk would just casually stroll up and punch him right in the godsdamned face, knowing full well he wasn't allowed to hit them back— Something in particular that galled Caddach as he was pretty certain he only needed to punch the spindly Altmer exactly once to snap every bone above his shoulders.

A few months into his new career, unable to learn, no one willing to teach him but with his family having supported the university too generously in the past (while probably being unaware of it's inner workings) to get rid of him, the lad would find himself downgraded to being essentially an unpaid janitor. Which is where, oddly enough, he found the only instructor he'd ever have his whole time there- 'Ted', Saullon's own bound Daedra who'd been stuck with him for over a decade and hated the little bastard even more than Caddach did. And who was more than happy to teach him all sorts of things the instructors never would, even if they were doing their jobs; like how to fool magic wards, pop open locks with a touch, the first two phases of now very illegal levitation magic and how to really fight with magic. Things Caddach would use to get into the library to sneakily read all the books that were suddenly forbidden to him, and educate himself on all the gaps that Ted couldn't teach.

Two years past that, our boy had long since given up on ever rising above his status as the unofficial toilet-scrubber for the University and was simply learning for his own sake. Riiiiight up until he found one book in particular, one he realized he had to study thoroughly, spending an entire week on it, in fact. Following which he'd toss his mage robes directly into the trash, and go looking for Saullon, who he'd find as he typically did throughout the day, with his whole hypesquad of dipshits and a grumbling Ted in tow and immediately unbound the powerful Daedra right on the spot with all he'd learned from that particular book, a last favour to the best friend he had ever made in that damned place. Who, in turn, must've been the happiest Dremora that ever fucking existed.

He had been waiting years to deliver this ass-whooping, after all.

As Caddach expected, he was immediately expelled from the Arcane University for that particular stunt, though officially he was let go for his poor grades; the full scope of the incident and all that led up to it being a serious threat too many careers if it ever made the light of day in an official report. At that point, though, Caddach could really give less of a shit about it, and was just happy to leave. There was the slight possibility however that Saullon, being of distant relation to the High Chancellor of the Elder Council, might come back to bite him and more alarmingly his family in the ass, but as it turned out, Ocato of Firsthold hated the Fuckwit just as much as he did, and was actually pretty pleased to see him get a healthy dose of reality (and Daedric fists) to the face.

Hell, that's probably what got him his current job in the first place. As not even three days after the 'incident', one of his childhood friends from the block who grew up to be a member of Imperial Intelligence just happened to arrive at exactly the moment his mother's screaming about how he'd ruined his own career reached it's daily crescendo to offer to take him to the palace to interview for a suddenly open position as a groundskeeper. Which he was more than happy to take him up on as it got him out of that damned house. Where he would meet with a Khajiiti aide to the Council who would go over the specifics of the job, how he'd be apprenticed to masons, slaters, carpenters— he would pause a moment to note with the kind of amused smirk only a cat could pull off that 'This one is told you don't need to be taught how to clean'—, that he'd stay in the general servants quarters for a few months before getting his own little room, and that, most importantly— and they really stressed this— he was to "Pay attention."

And there he's been ever since. Cleaning out eavestroughs, scrubbing floors, re-slating the roof and, most importantly watching, listening and learning as he was instructed to do those three years ago. And honestly? He kinda likes it. Sure, the labour can be rough sometimes, and you get a lot of weird things going on in the Imperial Palace, buuuuut, it pays well, the room, food and haircuts are free, he gets weekends off and he's actually made a few friends among the other palace staff and guards; even going out to the Arena then onto Daggerfall Dan's after quittin' time every other Fredas.

All in all, he's back to a comfortable life.

...Well, was.

Right up until the big boss let him off early to go see the big fight in the arena and some dickhead tripped him in the bar afterward, making him spill some beer. Which, subsequently, earned him the mother of all punches to the face.

He doesn't know it yet, but his life's about to get a whole lot less comfy.

...The massive shiner he's currently wearing aside.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadow of Oblivion

+1

@Athol

What he said.

The Shattered Realms

Aight, while we're on the topic of character ideas.

Caius Artorius; A spellsword who's been with the guild some time now; literally just popped into the neighbourhood one day via Realm Walker, confused, and not speaking a damned word of the local lingo, though he's picked it up over the years.

Seen as a bit of an odd one; Firstly, because he doesn't seem to be aging in any noticeable way. Secondly because of his almost monk-like discipline and self-control, sleeping in a small backroom in the guild with naught but a bedroll, a pillow and a rack for his gear and the only real indulgence he allows himself being the occasional bit of wine from a local vineyard he volunteers at from time to time.

Thirdly because, though his equipment (though foreign, aged-looking and lacking in the way of fancy tassels or other crap), is exceptionally well-made, he's powerful enough to carve clean through plate-armour with a magically-charged gladius, strong enough to rip and tear limbs or crush stone in his hands, smart enough to know when and how he should be doing any of those aforementioned things and does occasionally get called up by the guild to go handle things that require experience, a sharp wit and extraordinary amounts of violence... he still only ever really volunteers to go out on smaller jobs with newer adventurers, even if they pay less, just so he can keep an eye on them and maybe sometimes scooch them in the right direction.

TL;DR: Mystery Magic Fantasy-Roman Guy/Designated Big Brother of the RP. Because I'm going to be wholesome and you can't stop me.

The Shattered Realms

Aight, I'm game.

WH40K: Rogue Trader

C'mon in, kids; We've got big guns, a big fancy spaceship and all the big dumb adventures you could ever need!