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Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

'Why's everything gotta be a pain?' Graves bitched and moaned to himself one last time before getting off his ass and approaching his party. Though he'd kept his distance before he'd been listening all the while: Benkei was getting to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses. Then he went on to formulate a battle strategy based on that. The foresight he showed was appreciated- he picked out their weakest players and paired them up with someone capable of pulling that extra weight. Even gave up main tanking-- something most were loathed to do-- because he fit in better elsewhere.

'Guess you're not entirely shit, kid. Well done.'

Not that he'd praise him so openly. No, Graves just walked up-- avoiding Rael as best he could-- and offered him an approving nod. "I've seen worse. Gimme a wide berth n' I'll get us through no problem." He glanced over to Seele, who'd be his backup. She might not be the typical healing support, but that was fine. Graves could handle that himself. In fact, her build was almost perfectly suited to compliment his. Taking a couple steps in her direction he held up a fist toward her. "Ready to kick some as-...?"

His arm fell limp as his gaze shifted alongside everyone else's in the room. They might've been off in the corner but Aaginim was far from subtle about it. He had dropped down onto a knee, pulled a ring from his pocket and proposed to Luci. Right there. In-game. In front of everyone.

Graves shifted between his feet, terribly uncomfortable even just watching from way over here. It was the kind of thing you'd see somebody do at the park, or the plaza, or in one of those fancy restaurants he could never afford to eat at. But Aaginim chose this grungy little tavern made of code instead of brick. Was that cheesy and awful? Or maybe it was weirdly romantic?

There was that pang in his chest again. It was some mixture of embarrassment at their display of public affection, an anxiousness to move on from it, and a dash of jealousy. They'd managed to find happiness, real happiness. That was a rare, terribly precious thing, in Andrew's mind. They had better hold onto it, and to each other, for as long as they could. The world needed a little more color in it.

"Aww, ain't that the cutest thing?" He grinned wistfully, arms crossed over his chest. A few moments passed before he looked around at the rest of the group, realizing how stupid he must've looked. "What!? I have a soul too."

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

DREW.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Leaves was already too much of a chatterbox for Graves's taste. She was one of those people who you could just nod and give a one word answer to and they'd keep on holding a conversation all by their lonesome. That was a lot for someone who spent most of their days alone. Then came the sight of a mammoth stampeding toward them, shouting at the top of her lungs. "Oh God," he groaned. A hand moved up preemptively to massage a headache he was sure would come. It was weird: he could spend two hours knee-deep in combat without stressing at all, but those two just talking made his head spin. If there was anywhere better to sit he would've gotten up and left.

They'd spent far too long sitting 'round, jerking each other off. He was anxious to be off. There was a whole new dungeon waiting out there to be conquered, and he'd get to be one of the first to plant the flag. He had to admit it was a romantic ideal. That-- and the loot-- were the only reason he had skin in the game. Nobody here mattered to him in the least.

Aaginim finally spoke for the first time. All eyes were drawn to him. This was it. Despite himself, Graves felt an excitable grin creep up along his face. The last details of the plan would be drawn up, groups would be divided, and they'd be on their way.

He gave a smug glance over toward Rael when Aaginim reiterated a rule that was for her and only her. It was almost impressive how many people she'd gotten to hate her. He had to wonder how, despite that rep, she kept ending up in raids; was she really that good? Or did everyone just keep buying into her bullshit hype?

Benkei wasn't a name Graves knew. That wasn't surprising- he only knew people who mattered, and there were staggeringly few of them. Hopefully he wasn't completely ass. Callouts, leadership, those weren't skills Graves would ever have. All he could hope for was someone that was decently competent and would stay out of his way. Graves was an artist: he needed room to paint his masterpiece.

Things broke down when Aaginim started listing out the groups.

'No. No, no. No god damn way.'

“Group B will be Benkei, Rael...Graves,...”

Graves threw his hands in the air. "You bastard!" He didn't bother lowering his voice. Aaginim knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew exactly how Graves would feel about it, yet he went along with it anyway. Was he trying to get a dig in at Graves, or something? Did the two of them have beef that he didn't know about? He wasn't supposed to be an asshat. Aaginim was good. He was supposedly one of the better raid leaders in Pariah. Even when his guild, Prophecy, had gone tits up, people like Einhart were always talking him up-- and Einhart didn't compliment you unless you deserved it.

So there's no way he fucked up. This was purposeful.

He leaned his back up against the wall, staring. Watching. Mulling over whether it was worth it to even continue.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

'Fuckingpieceofshitmotherfuckinglittlebitch...'

Graves sat in silent contemplation, stewing on the wrong done to him. His attention was focused on a stream of dark liquid: it was flowing off the top of his head, down into a half-empty mug set down on the table before him. Wisps of primordial energy kept the ale contained, stopping even a drop from spilling out. His efforts seemed to be proving fruitful as his face, hair and clothing were mostly dry by now. Just a few more seconds, annddd...

Something came crashing onto the table, shouting nonsense and splashing ale everywhere. It shattered Graves's concentration, spilling alcohol across the wood. "Ah, come on!"

One final, defeated huff left him as he decided to just live with it. He leaned all his weight onto his elbows and looked over at Leaves, trying his best to conceal his annoyance. Doubtful that she'd care, though; she was already talking a mile a minute after making her grand entrance. It was lot. Too much, after the shitshow he had just failed to clean up-- and move on-- from. At the very least he could be glad she wasn't a dickhole about it.

"S'pose so. Anything's better than sticking 'round here," he grunted, his hand idly grabbing at the nearest mug. "Just got back from the wilds n' I'm already ready to leave again." Life was a lot easier when there weren't any people in it. He took a swig.

The raid itself wasn't something he was ecstatic about, if he was being honest. It'd pay well, sure. But Graves didn't play Pariah to delve into dungeons to go treasure hunting. He'd done it plenty, though he wasn't like Leaves: hitting the top of the DPS charts and climbing the leaderboards. No, he was made to do something different, and he was a damn sight better at that than anybody else in the room. Kalie might make him break a sweat. Maybe.

"Oh!" Graves blinked, seemingly remembering they weren't alone. He waved a hand over at Seele. "This is uh...Jesus, did you tell me your name? Hope not. I think she heals, er, somethin'. Didn't really ask."

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Graves already had his console up and a finger hovering over the go button when a voice caught his attention. It was Luci, barking orders like a drill sergeant, backed up by Pris' and Leaves. They were Aaginim's groupies. Any threats they made would actually be backed up, unlike the rest of these schmucks. Graves broke eye contact with Rael and looked over to them, gauging how much this raid mattered to him. Was it worth taking a hit to his ego? Or should he draw anyway and try his luck?

That last dagger as she turned away caused him to grind his teeth and let just an inch more steel kiss the air. He was really thinking about it.

The wizard, Priscilica, seemed able to read his intentions, warning him against it. 'I got a fireball with your name on it,' she quipped.

Finally a heavy sigh left his lungs just as his hand left his sword. It was still horrifically embarrassing. His cheeks-- and eyes-- were on fire. He wasn't going to forget it anytime soon. But that was a fight for another day. Graves put his hands up in Pris's direction to let her know he was through, stating: "Yeah, yeah, we're through. Hope you don't get stuck with her."

His attention shifted back to the table behind him, and the poor newbie that'd gotten stuck in the middle of that mess. "Uhh...sorry, uh, about that." He coughed, grabbing the edge of the table and pulling it back to where it was once before.

God damn did he need a towel.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

“You know, you really shouldn’t be picking on NPC’s.”

Graves hadn't even finished turning his head to face Rael when he felt something splash across his head. Ale ran down his face-- gathering in his eyes-- and down his back, drenching his clothes. Its stench would cling to the armor for days. He leapt to his feet, shoving the table back and into the mage in the process. His blood was running hot, his cheeks as bright red as his burning eyes. A hand went to the hilt of his sword: that massive, wicked thing that had cleaved the head from a basilisk not a week prior.

He took one step forward, closing the distance. There was more than a foot difference in their height; he had to stoop down just to look her in the eye. "You think I won't split you in half you insufferable, little bi-"

Before he could even finish threatening the half-pint somebody stepped in between them. A hand the size of a baseball mitt pressed against Graves's chest, pushing back back outta Rael's face. The anger on his face only grew as he had to take a step back to allow Alja to stand between the two of them. She went on to talk, a lot, but it was obvious he wasn't listening. Graves's eyes never left the one that had started this; she'd gone out of her way to humiliate him in front of the whole raid and then had the audacity to cower behind her bigger friend.

Alja finished her diatribe and put a hand on Graves's shoulder, like some half-assed attempt at camaraderie. He reached up and took her by the wrist, leaning close to her. "Stop protecting her." He sneered, shoving her hand off. "You think she can get away with that and I'll just bend the fuck over?"

He looked, then, to Rael. "How 'bout we step outside n' settle this, huh? Or are you really the coward they say you are, Rael?"

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Graves finished off his drink just as some pipsqueak sauntered up to the bar for a refill. She was the one that'd attracted so much attention earlier-- odd, considering he knew everybody worth knowin', and he didn't know her. At a glance he couldn't tell if she was irritated or just had one'a those faces, so he decided not to press his luck and pushed off the counter the moment she'd gotten there. "Welcome to another of Aaginim's classic clusterfucks." He snickered, giving her a quick too-hard slap to the shoulder just as he walked off. "Good luck!"

Circling around to avoid the two fightin' blondes at the center of the room, Graves continued to take in the various side conversations. They were a motley lot of players: some of 'em were greener than grass, others looked like they could break the top twenty on their best days. More the former than the latter, Graves guessed. Too few in number to challenge that new dungeon that'd popped up outside of Thorinn. Dungeon delving had never been one of his specialties, but he had the cursory knowledge to know this group needed a little more experience if it wanted to succeed.

'I really am the good Samaritan, coming upon the broken man on the road. What could they do without me?'

The truth in his self-aggrandizing theory was only further cemented in his mind when he came upon a mage, sat alone with her lesser feast already summoned. She was one of the newer Wayfarers, then. Or woefully under prepared for a raid like this. Graves approached with an obnoxious swagger in his stride, throwing a leg over the bench across from her and straddled it rather than sit like a normal human being. "You know," he plucked one of the sandwiches from the basket and stuffed it into his gullet, "shtish shtuff's gonna run outh before we even get shtere."

He swallowed it in maybe two bites before grabbing a second. Useless, sure, but admittedly quite tasty. "Ya always buff up right outside'a the dungeon, kid. This your first time doin' this kinda thing? I mean, not to knock ya or anything, but..."

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

A lone hunter stumbled into Thorinn with a great weight upon his back. He was a mighty figure built like an oak tree-- tall and broad and ever sturdy-- yet it seemed his strength was failing him. The burden he bore was several times his size. It was a mass of sickly pale scales, hanging bits of gore and ligaments and broken bone. Two great eyes like red orbs stared back at those who walked behind the hunter, unblinking, empty. Chains wrapped about the severed head bound it to the man that carried it.

He had pursued the thing through the wilderness for three weeks. It had struck the killing blow against the hunter twice throughout their game, yet he kept up the chase all the same. Such was the endurance of wayfarers: not even death could stop them. Not permanently. The beast could neither hide nor fight by the end of it; it was too bloodied to do anything more than whimper in its nest as that wicked nodachi relieved its shoulders of its head.

In whatever afterlife Pariah provided its monsters it could look down with some irony-driven revenge as its corpse harried its killer. The head's weight had collapsed the man's horse three days earlier, forcing him to bear it all on his own. What should've been a short journey to a just reward transformed into a perilous, monotonous trek up the main road to Thorinn, where every day there came the risk of someone coming along to steal the proof of his triumph for themselves.

By the grace of lady luck that never came to pass. There were even some that stopped on their own journeys to offer the hunter help in carrying his quarry home. It annoyed him. More annoying was when they insisted that it was no trouble, not understanding that he wasn't being polite. He wasn't going to be climbing into anyone else's cart with such a valuable bounty chained to his back; their hearts would only stay good until they realized the value of what he carried. Regardless, he didn't need the help.

Or so he told himself every time he fell to knee along the road, his legs nearly buckling under him each time.

But the ordeal was over now, for he'd made it into Thorinn and the bounty office was a mere hop and skip from the front gate. There, he dumped the now-rotting carcass into the hands of some poor denizens schmucks that worked for the acquisition officer, who paid Graves handsomely for his trouble.

'Good Lord do I need a break.'

Tired feet carried him back across town, toward his favorite little drinking hole: the Wayfarer's Rest. It didn't have the best drinks, or the best beds, or the best people. The work there was usually interesting, though not consistent. No, it was his favorite because of the one thing it didn't have.

He beat his boots against the door frame to rid them of the dust of the road before pushing the door out of his way, stepping inside.

The front room was more crowded than usual, and not with the same do-nothings he was used to seeing around here. They were well-armed and gathered 'round for what sounded like talk of business. There was one woman in particular who reminded him of a mammoth who was making particularly loud talk. Was she actually taller than him? 'Tch.'

Graves pretended he wasn't intrigued by it and walked up to the bar to order himself a drink. He'd keep his eyes toward it, but his ears were focused elsewhere.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

If applications are open then I'll be interested.

@Dog

Application

---

Pariah Online is a invite only RP.

Applicants will be provided entry to a discussion channel on discord and given access to the character sheet.

@TGM

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

_______________________________________________ // INFO I R L Full Name - Andrew Gray Age - 20 Place of Origin - Indiana, USA Occupation - Gas station clerk A V A T A R Character's Name - Graves Pathos Affiliation - Draethir Role - Melee DPS Profession - Bounty Hunter Weapon of Choice - Nodachi Domains - Water, Darkness; Restoration, Divination, Enhancement - // PERSONALITY P E R S O N A L I T Y Arrogant It isn't just that Graves thinks highly of himself. He doesn't believe he's the best- he knows he is, and the only reason he fails is when others are holding him back. There is no challenge he won't take on, no enemy he's afraid to challenge; he has mastered the art of combat in Pariah Online and he's eager to show that off. Belligerent His mentors always hammered into his head that the one thing a good fighter had was aggression. A full-bodied willingness to commit violence, directed violence, against their opponents. To hesitate was to admit you were the weaker combatant. To allow the enemy initiative was the equivalent of surrender. Graves has taken those lessons to heart, allowing that belligerence to seep into every aspect of his personality. Driven For all his many, many faults, none can deny Graves's desire to succeed. He is driven beyond rational boundaries, to the point where Graves believes he can do anything he wants- often times bending the situation to make this fact true. He doesn't allow himself to slip, to lose, to give in, ever. // BENCHMARKS B E N C H M A R K S Violent Transfusion The linchpin of Graves's fighting style is his ability to heal himself by wounding his enemies. He strikes at them with his signature weapon, drawing the blood from their bodies using his unusual primordial magics, and then transmutes it into a healing energy that stitches up his own wounds at a rapid pace. This allows Graves to maintain full throttle aggression without putting himself in total mortal peril. Surgical Precision Studying the anatomy of wayfarers and monsters alike was a necessary component of Graves's chosen battle strategy. He's learned the best places to strike to disable his opponents, or to produce the greatest flow of blood. In addition, He's also internalized where he can safely wound himself if the need ever arises. Human Bloodhound Graves pursues his targets like a predator tracks a wounded animal. He treks across great distances, following even the most subtle of clues for weeks at a time. Nothing ever seems to deter or distract him, so singular is his purpose. Pain, Life's Great Motivator Pain is something every wayfarer is familiar with. Some shy away from it, while others manage to grit their teeth and soldier onward despite it. Graves revels in it. He practically falls into his attacker's blade at any given opportunity. It makes for a terrifying display when he walks through a debilitating stab wound to make his counterattack.

Physical Description Andrew is unusually tall, measuring more than a few inches over six feet- a trait he inherited from his father. He's far thinner, however, with an unhealthy gauntness to his long face. Dark circles around his eyes stand out against harshly pale skin, and long hair falls down to his shoulders. Most wouldn't regard him as particularly good-looking, owing in no small part to a lack of effort and little self confidence. His persona's appearance in Pariah differs significantly. While Graves stands just as tall, he's extraordinarily well-built, with a chest as broad as a barrel and muscle coiled like steel cable. Scarring earned from many an encounter pepper his body thanks to his light armor and penchant for reckless aggression. Graves is much better put together, too, with shorter cropped hair and strong features his player could only dream of. Character Conceptualization Graves is a controversial bounty hunter whose history stretches back to the first days of Pariah Online. He’s renowned for doggedly pursuing his targets no matter where they run or for how long. Quick tempered and arrogant to the core, Graves is a difficult man to work with if he believes you’re holding him back- and he thinks everyone does. The few friendships he still holds are troubled, to say the least, yet it wasn’t always so. Back when the game first launched, Graves was a member of a guild called the Strange Reign Club. They were a highly competitive group of raiders and PVPers with a reputation for extraordinaire toxicity. It was hard to argue against their results, however. Graves showed great promise as one of their earliest recruits, competing with some of the Club’s best duelists. He’d stay with them for many months before, without much warning, he’d be cut from the team and blacklisted by its raid leaders. A solo player ever since, Graves has been quietly grinding away at his profession, stewing on whatever drama had happened behind the scenes... Other Information ♬ Spell List Transfusion: The primary vehicle of Graves's unstoppable aggression and the core aspect of his kit. Transfusion allows Graves to transform any blood into lifeforce, healing physical wounds of nearly any kind. The blood must be drawn through an open wound. The amount of healing received and how quickly it takes to stitch a wound depends on the volume and quality of the blood provided. This ability is typically used by cutting open an enemy's major arteries and healing himself, but it is not limited to this function. Defiant to the End: One of his strongest abilities, and the most dangerous to utilize. If Graves has suffered enough damage to be near unconsciousness or death's door, he can temporarily convert the flow of blood from all his wounds into life-force, providing an incredible burst of healing power. This magic has the potential to harm or eve kill him if it consumes too great a quantity of his blood. Meditative Healing: Another aspect of Graves's advanced blood-based restoration magic. By sitting in a meditative trance for at least an hour, he may use his own blood to close his own wounds. This consumes his blood, much like Defiant to the End. How long it takes depends on the severity of said injuries. The stance is extremely taxing, essentially requiring he rest immediately afterward. In addition, it can't repair grievous wounds such as broken bones or eviscerated organs. Blood In The Water: Using a concoction of a creature's blood and a number of other ingredients, Graves may consume it to cast this spell to locate that creature if they are within a thousand feet of him; if they're moving he knows the direction. This spell can be blocked by most magic or materials meant to disrupt divination. Sight Beyond Sight: Sight Beyond Sight allows Graves to concentrate, blocking out all other senses to activate a sort of 'sixth sense.' This sixth sense allows him to feel the presence of bleeding targets within a thirty meter radius of himself, though it can be blocked by sufficiently thick walls or anti-divination magic. It acts similarly to echo location, wherein he gets a 'blip' of the target(s)' movement every couple of seconds.