SpawnMeme

Godfall - The Emergence [Dead]

@Rune_Alchemist
And... the eager young Godling would come across a man in the alleyways much unlike the many English people within the streets. A man who appeared much broader than he really was, leaning up against the brick wall of one of the buildings in the alleyway with his eyes looking towards the dim skyline. He'd appear to be someone of military status, due to how his hair was cut in a jardhead like manner, a clean 2x1 cut ontop of his head, with a lean face that barely twitched or moved. He appeared to be wearing thick leather protective gear with the name of the infamous North American Harley Davidson Company strewn about all over the suit, due to both the cold weather and the motorcycle he was currently riding within the country.

Lean and still built, standing at 5'8", the man's face held a degree of confidence to it, slight scarring and a bit of slight aging on his face despite seeming rather... young for a Human being. The man's name was David Turner, and David currently was enjoying a drag from a cigarette within the alleyway of... London for some reason, although the training he had had drilled into him years ago kicked in as his eyes darted off to meet the woman with both surprise and curiousity. He would go quiet as he would take another drag of the cigarette before dropping it to the ground, having been brought down to nearly a nub anyways.

He'd offer her a nod and a nice smile, his face holding a set of both brown hair and brown eyes that held a gentle curious look to them, despite the hardy demeanor he gave off, waving her over with his right hand as he stood there, "Good afternoon ma'am, just enjoying a cigarette off to the side in town so no one complains. I won't mind sharing one with you from my pack if you are one, but if you ain't that's fine."

Godfall - The Emergence [Dead]

Appearance: A man of an average size who stands at 5'6", he usually is seen wearing a variety of clothes from time to time, and on occasion the dress blues he was issued in boot camp several years ago for various... festivities. He has typical brown hair, brown eyes, and a lean build accompanied from constant PT and rigorous training brought over from just having gotten done with his contract several months ago. He's usually seen wearing a leather motorcycle suit and helmet however, denoted in the Harley Davidson fashion with a concealed .45 colt pistol, a daypack on his back and a Ka-Bar stached away in such.

Name: David Turner

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Talents:
Motor Transport/Maintenance: David had learned how to drive a variety of heavy-duty vehicles while he was training at Fort Jackson, North Carolina. Once he went into the fleet he had managed to drive and learn to work on a good variety of vehicles, having had to drive them to save the lives of his own Marines during many differing firefights within Somalia at the time. He's obtained his CDL's and certificates to work on heavier platforms in the civilian world, and has planned to see if he could make a living after having just left out of his first contract.

Combat Training: He learned how to fight mainly from the MCMAP programs, and constant training he did throughout his time in the Marine Corp. stacked with his experience with fighting in Somalia.

Hunting: He spent a small portion of his life living in the woods of northern florida hunting deer and other animals with his dad, being a sort of poor backwoods family that lived off the land. He learned how to skin a buck and run a trout line, cook his own food and grow it if necessary.

Backstory: You wouldn't think a story of a Human would be too interesting, since the majority of the species in itself proves to be mediocre in how they end their lives with a lack of satisfaction, or sometimes satisfaction but those cases are rare. The story of David Turner begins within the northern portions of Florida within a small hospital, born to Margaret Turner and Jonathan Turner. A poor couple of individuals who had managed to barely scrape up a living within the northern woods of Florida, working as a maid within a hotel and Jonathan a lowly paid welder. The two barely managed to scrape by as is, paying all the bills they had to, alongside insurance on the car and so on, but David Turner brought a new care to their rather... miserable lives at the time. His first few years were mostly spent with his mom in the small house they lived in within the woods, playing with the family dog and cat on occasion, and having small adventures into the woods that usually led to a whipping from either his mother or rarely his father who was always away at work.

Fast forward a few years and he began to go to a small set of public schools, where he spent most of his time in elementary school being kicked around and picked on, mainly due to always being the most quiet individual in his class and always having a... depressed mood due to hearing his parents argue all the time within the house back home. Most of his time in middle school later on was playing sports and mostly studying, and on occasion hanging out with the select group of friends he had chosen to hang out with. He resorted to getting his driver's permit and job as soon as he could when he was 15, mainly as a way of finding something to get away from home from. His parents weren't exactly abusive but the tension in the house was always... high, due to the financial situation the family always was in, despite being so small. His high school years were... questionable, due to his first year in 9th grade having been spent with the wrong quote on quote "crowd' of sorts that nearly got him into jail one Friday night, having managed to get out of it before he was caught. He took this as the opportunity to never... lean too far off of the path he was on, deciding to study and play sports throughout high school. He spent the next several years on the wrestling team and taking part in AP classes, graduating as a honor grad within high school before going off to boot camp only so many months later.

Fast forward four years worth of both pain, tears, and oddly enough fun, dragging himself through both boot camp, MCT and MOS school. The desert towns of Somalia and the deserts of the Middle East. A four year contract with him ending it off with his CDL's and certificates he needed to break off from the service to live properly in the civilian world. Although ending it as a Corporal, semi-decent for one's first contract, he's found himself constantly riding his motorcycle from place to place within the U.S. looking for a job due to the shrinking job market, not knowing necessarily how to start his new life, or to sign back off into the service.
Motive: "I... really don't know at this point, besides this motorcycle, daypack on my back and this pistol I got at my side and my old Ka-Bar. All the money I saved up as well, not sure what to do... suppose we'll see, yeah?"

Ecetopia: Rzail: Karnorouri’s Pillar

It was nearly instinctual, or perhaps instinctual itself for the Orc to fasten his pace towards the cover of the cairn. The green light that had filled the realm before them had caused him to have immediately jump into action, not one who has dealt with the arcane too much, he still knew through experience that the sudden wailing of the... dead, and the strong green light was somewhat like that of a firefight on a planet. Chaos was something the Orc was used to being within, and the sight of skeletons and corpses rising before him did strike a good deal of fear within him, despite having seen much in his four years as a galactic mercenary, he had never seen the dead literally be raised from the earth to assail upon the living.

It did take him aback, since he was raised by ancient traditions that the dead were sacred, and to be burnt via cremation to keep their remains from being desecrated. A brief thought filled his head regarding the situation as his combat boots dug themselves into the dead black sand, the Orc's pace breaking out into a full sprint towards the entrance of the obelisk. The gear he was handling at least weighed a dozen or so pounds, which slowed him down somewhat but he appeared to have donned enough weight in armor in his life to keep a decent pace within a combat scenario. This was much different he thought, the Orc came to realize this must have been also what it meant when his parents taught him of the tradition of cremation, and it didn't exactly fill him with rage, but a small degree of pity for the remains of those who had died.

He also was motivated by the dead oddly enough, knowing that if he fastened his progress he would perhaps not end up among these... creatures that had been raised by some form of supernatural force he only heard tales of on this planet. The armored mage he saw bewildered him slightly as he saw the bolts of light clear the path for him, the young swordsman and the barbarian female warrior. He also cursed to himself on how he had only one shot within the primitive rifle he had, as he caught site of a green figure, a grotesque thing that was the remains of a dead human explorer much like the other ones he had seen. He raised his rifle and fired the heavy calibered rifle into the corpse of the undead, the powerful rifle causing the undead to fall back into the dead dust with a large hole in it's chest cavity. Coagulated blood splayed out across the ground, disgusting the young Orc as he'd go to set his bayonet and settle the long rifle into a tactical position. A loud roar escaped his mouth as he would be seen driving the bayonet situated on the end of the rifle into various undead, following up with a series of strikes and so forth as he booked it through the small pace Fionn had made for him and the others. He was determined to make it to the obelisk, and didn't care if the others he had saw had gotten there before him, only caring for survival at this point as his rifle's buttstock slammed through the living remains of a human skeleton.

Ecetopia: Rzail: Karnorouri’s Pillar

@Normie@Kasai Uchiha
The young swordsman and the female warrior would find that their general vicinity would be filled with a sudden explosion that ringed throughout the dead sands of the surrounding area. A large plume of smoke would envelop a small portion of a nearby hill, with a humanoid figure within the small valley before them slowly dropping to the ground, a zombie which went limp. A loud set of coughs echoed from the envelopment of smoke, with the dead winds of Rzail blowing the warm sulfurous smoke eastward. A moderately sized figure held a long object within his hands, in this case it was known as a flintlock rifle, a powerful invention designed to hit targets from far away accurately with the usage of grooves within a metal barrel to help aid the ball in it's intended direction. It was still rather primitive, especially for the individual whom had fired it, with the individual having turned to glance about and off towards the direction of the tower-like object all the others had seen.

The man who wielded the rifle appeared to be of a moderate size, lean of build and covered in an assortment of armor. He currently had on a thick gambeson, a helmet in the shape of a steel disc settled ontop of his head. Bits of leather clothing laced underneath the gambeson, keeping the individual warm from the cold dead air of Rzail. He had a prominent underbite, with a set of canines protruding from his lower lip, and a piglike nose making up the center of his face. Green skin made up what was exposed of his body, portraying the individual as a smaller offshoot of Orc that resided within the cosmos. He appeared to be somewhat calm, lacking any sense of nervousness or belligerence in the small realm that was home to undead. His right hand would go to settle the butt of the rifle's stock into the dead sand, his eyes darting off both between the golden figure standing amongst the hill before the corpses of the giant undead, and the youthful swordsman bolting towards the tower.

A low sigh escaped the young Orc's mouth as he'd start the careful process of reloading the flintlock rifle, being careful of the combat knife bayonet he had attached to the end of the rifle. He made sure to stay careful as he reloaded the rifle, taking a good minute of his time before he'd go to raise it up. By some odd habit he'd lower it to the ground much like an assault rifle, him blinking his eyes as he'd heft the longer much more primitive weapon's barrel towards the sky to keep himself from driving the barrel into the dead sand. Some form of training from an old friend made him do this by habit.

He considered moving straight towards the tower, which he considered as a wise move by the young swordsman whom he watched from the hill bolt towards, although the individual on the hill also interested him somewhat. He figured the best option was to follow in the young swordsman's suit, the Orc cocking the duck of the flintlock to half-mast incase of need to fire, with him taking a brief step forward. His thick leather boots would slam into the dead sand of a small crevice in the hill below, the aged daypack on his back following suit with a small ruffle of the many items inside. He would then start to hike towards the direction of the tower, his rifle pointed towards the sky, and his eyes darting about constantly.

Ecetopia: Rzail: Karnorouri’s Pillar

Yunagh Kehr

Yunagh Kehr

Name: Yunagh Hehr
Influence: 2
Group: N/A

Description:


https://taaks.deviantart.com/art/Space-Orc-43746133

Species: Space Orc
Build: Ectomorphic
Age: 22
Height: 5’8”
Weight: 180 pounds
Attire: Mostly a mixture of whatever he can get his hands on, although the Orc tends to wear mostly leather and cotton with bits and pieces of scavenged combat armor he can find.

Backstory: Yunagh Hehr was born to a pair of nomadic space orcs whom worked as rogue mercenaries going from contract to contract across the galaxy. He spent most of his time raised by other members of the same sort of rogue mercenary company in the deeper confines of the ships they hijacked. He lived a mostly rough and tumble life as a kid, learning how to shoot, fight, and take apart and put together most weapons within minutes from his other adoptive family members. He got put onto his first contract when he was 18 years of age, and had worked his way from contract to contract on his own, ship to ship and so forth. He’s lived his life like such for the past several years, believing himself to have aged nearly 20 years within 4 due to all of the stress and horrors the contracts he pushed himself through in order to just make money to get by. He’s managed to grow somewhat depressed over those 4 years, only living day by day and not expecting much of himself later on in life. He however has gained an odd amount of durability due to all he is willing to push himself through.

Abilities
Inhuman Durability(3): Mostly spurred on by all of the pain and injury the Orc has put himself through in order to survive in the galaxy. He’s managed to gain a good deal of resilience to damage and pain to the point that he’s gained a decent damage reduction to physical attacks.

Increased Physical Ability(2): Although far from superhuman in this aspect, he’s managed to obtain a decent amount of general physical ability due to the orcish genes he inherited from his parents, alongside the combat he’s been put through. Somewhere on the higher end of the human spectrum, he’s just an overall well-rounded athlete, but lacks in serious physical power despite his durability.

Enhanced Survivability(2): Having spent most of his life living on a deal of harsh worlds from time to time, he’s learned how to survive in most scenarios due to the experience his life has brought him.

Enhanced Combat Knowledge(2): The majority of his life has been spent fighting in combat, thus it has also brought with him some form of experience to the latter, but it is far from too exceptional. This pretty much means he can also pick up a good deal of weapons and use them but not with the largest amount of skill.

Enhanced Physical Senses(2): His orcish genes passed on to him give him a sharper sense of smell than normal, alongside giving him lowlight eyesight, but all of his other senses are practically human-like.

Equipment:

Daypack(1): A standard issue daypack granted to him by one of his past human friends before he died on a rogue planet. Usually given to Marines in Human systems to carry daily needs within it, alongside gear and so forth. He usually keeps spare food, equipment, weaponry, and other things he might need within it.

E-Tool(1): A tool also handed down to him by his late Marine friend, made of a decent material. The spade of the tool acts as both a pick, shovel and axe in differing scenarios, practically a multi-tool instead of an excavation tool.

Assault Rifle(2): A somewhat odd choice of weaponry for a space Orc, although he makes usage of it due to how versatile the weapon is. A hand-me-down from his late Marine friend, somewhat beaten up and well-used, it is still maintained well and can do some damage within a combat scenario.

Orcish Broadsword(2): A relic from his race’s homeworld he had managed to obtain after winning a tournament on his race’s homeworld. The blade itself is made of a semi-decent design and material, much like a machete with a thick tapered end with a spike forged on the end meant to pierce armor and hook blows out of one’s way.

Combat Knife(1): An aged combat knife mostly used to just pass the time whittling, and do small work that the E-tool can’t do, or something that can be used in a pinch in a combat scenario.

Combat Armor(2): Mostly a mixture of metal plates and ceramic plates he's picked up from various pieces of armor sets he's scavenged from bodies on his contracts. The suit is always changing in appearance although it tends to protect him well.

A Guild Adventure: An RP with Monster Girls! (ENDED)

Gurok Ishnak

Appearance: Gurok Ishnak stands at the mediocre height of 5'8", weighing in and around 210 pounds worth of weight. A Flind whom would most likely come off as a lycan werewolf instead of a Gnoll, due to having a set of thick gray fur thwr covers the majority of his body. The Gnoll tends to wear a mixture of armor, as of now he wears chainmail over a set of boiled leather armor that covers his body right to above his digitigrade knees.

Name: Gurok Ishnak

Race: Gnolls are a species of canine-like humanoids that are usually confused with werewolves. Mostly savage in nature and with their culture as well, known to pick apart villages clean of both gear and corpses which they tend to cannibalize. Gnolls aren't too much more powerful than their human counterparts, although their agility far surpasses that of even the fastest human runner alive.

Magic/Abilities/Equipment: Gurok has a slight bit more strength than normal due to being a northern breed of Gnoll. His ability is on par with the majority of his kin though, being capable of easily outrunning and outmaneuvering Human beings if the situation dictates such. The Flind has a good amount of skill with both a sword and spear; the Gnoll clad in both iron chainmail padded with leather armor underneath. He carries a small rucksack on his back which his spear is attached to the bottom to, his sword and other tools situated at his left side on his left hip.
Personality: An individual of his kind who has portrayed enough intelligence and potential to set himself up as a mercenary for human contractors. Gurok is an individual whom prefers to work with others of similar situations to him, that being other beasts and Gnolls. He tends to keep quiet, being a quiet individual whom prefers to speak when needed. Gurok lacks most sense of what can be considered right and wrong, although he understands such enough to be capable of working within the parameters of those he works for. He lacks care for most others besides those he adopts as members of his pack or family.

Background: A breed of Gnoll born within the brutal colds of the North. H8e was born into a small tribe of Flinds that frequently battled it out with rogue tribes of their own kind, Orcs and Humans alike. He spent the majority of his life fighting a mixture of people and beasts until he began to make his own way south into arguably far more hospitable lands.

He spent the rest of his life gathering up skill as a mercenary from contract to contract. Every contract helping raise his intelligence more and more towards the civilized world, allowing him to properly interact with it's inhabitants. He managed to come across Bart on the beginning of a contract he was sent, which more so seemed to be Bart's way to attract the young Gnoll warrior towards the Guild he was trying to revive. Gurok took up on the contract he was assigned and accomplished it within a few day's time, impressing Bart and being inducted into the Guild he had made.