The Angry Goat

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

@Lovejoy adjustments made - I'm keeping him over 7 feet though :P

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

Name: Yerokhin Zlatek Stamenkovikj (Stina to his friends)

Age: 22

Height/Weight: 7’0”, 325 lbs

Race: Varyan

Appearance:
Yerokhin walks with a slight limp on his left leg, from a re-healed broken bone, and has a large scarring on the left side of his head caused by him falling from two floors up before breaking his fall with the side of his head on the side of a bench. The fact that he even lived is a miracle, the fact that the only real effect it had seems to be a slight slurring of his speech makes it even more impressive. The scar over his left eye he got from one of the training gambits, though at this point he’s forgotten which.

In addition to the usual armor, Yerokhin wears this style of helmet

Personality: Lawful Neutral // Protective // determined // hard-headed // Intense // Loud
His nickname means Wall in Ukranian. Yerokhin is in all fronts uncompromising, intense, and steadfastly faithful. This makes him come off as quite an asshole, since he expects a baseline of unquestionable loyalty to the Varyan state from any person before he begins to consider friendship. That being said, if you can tolerate the fact that he has functionally no off switch, expect a friend who can and will go to the absolute ends of the earth to protect you, care for you, and make you happy. He doesn’t usually question why things are the way they are, or if he could change his ways to make things easier; he instead just perseveres onwards until his way works, or he dies.
Also, don’t break promises to him. Trust me on that one.

Background: Yerokhin comes from a long line of Varyan war priests/clergy of various sorts, and was groomed from birth for the role he came to embrace. As one might expect, the devout nature of his patronage instilled the same love in him – especially since any questioning of “why” on the subject of religion was met with angry, stony silence from his father and mother. After training for his entire childhood, he was almost excited to enter the Red Seminary. And even then he still almost died at least twice.

Talents/Ethereal Abilities: Stina has an especially stong inner aether, but mostly uses it as a man used to using overwhelming brute force does: without finesse, but still to great effect.
1)Toughness: channeling his inner aether allows Yerokhin to withstand far more physical punishment than any one man should: broken arms, multiple gunshot wounds, etc. he’s already a headstrong sonuvabitch, this just makes him waaaay more so.
2)Strength/Speed bursts: a giant man with a shield the size of himself is one thing. One that just charged at you at 20 miles per hour is a whole ‘nother kettle of fish. These bursts of strength and speed last no more than 4 seconds, and allow him to lift about 1000lbs and move at around 20mph.

Stina generally chooses to fight with a relatively large one-handed axe, thought he does also keep a spear and a Rajko MKVI rifle strapped across his back, and three daggers in various locations across his body... and a gigantic two-handed executioner’s axe in his cabin, for special occasions. There is also a strap on his back for the shield (above the rifle and spear), as well as a set place on the steam ark for the shield when he is not carrying it.

The real star of the show is his massive tower shield. It is 6.5 feet tall, 4 feet wide, and as close to indestructible as is physically possible (so able to withstand a shell or two from a tank) – not only does the magic of the shield negate nearly any damage caused to it, but it also prevents the shock from reverberating through the shield and immediately breaking his arm anyway. At the press of a button, additional shielding is extended via aether powered clockwork, extending its width to 8 feet total (2 per side). The shield’s front is painted black, with a large version of the red circle of Varya dominating the middle. One might expect that a shield like this would be heavy. Yes.

Lee-enfield MKIII, the rifle I'm basing his on

Stina has basic survival skills locked down (especially hunting), but finds them of little interest compared to glorious war for his god. He knows multiple sets of unarmed martial techniques, and is extremely proficient in fighting with all of his weapons, with and sans shield.

Personal Seal:

Character Relationships: As a man unwilling to compromise not only on his faith, but on most other opinions, I do not expect Stina’s fierce and intense nature to attract many close friends. He is also reliable though, so who knows?

Marvel 2099

this seems p dead so imma officially drop. peace yall

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

@Lovejoy sick, expect an uncompromising bastion of Varya to carry the aegis and have a giant axe or something along that line within the next few days. I should probably do my actual homework first tho :P

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

yo this is cool AF and I'd totally be down to enter some sort of gigantic dude with a magical shield, if that's the kinda thing y'all're looking for

~Winds of Fate- A Thief's Adventure~

I hope we ain't doing a post per day... Im more of a once or twice a week level poster :P

~Winds of Fate- A Thief's Adventure~

Gail // Marketplace // Eastern Slums // The Play Begins

Gail stretched as he looked around the marketplace. A particularly large amount of boats had come in today, and it was a little busier than usual. It really just meant all the more people to observe, but he was looking for someone in particular, which made it less enjoyable. he knew she had a stall somewhere around here... ah! there it is.

"Shannon!" he exclaimed when there was a gap between the customers. "How are you? and how is Dietrich?"

it seemed to take her a moment to recognize him, but she quickly brightened upon the realization. "Oh, better now that the most recent shipment came in - more people in the market means more people to buy this food" she remarks, gesturing at her stall, adding, "of course, at a 10% discount for friends. Dietrich is fine; the doctors were saying that whatever it is that's ailing him is fading - but of course, he still has those bedsores."

"Ah, and I take it that is where I come in," Gail responds, eyeing her supply of lentils as he pulls a bottle out of his bag. "For the bedsores - and instead of last time's price, I'll just take a pound of those lentils and two pounds of potato, if that's alright with you?"

"Fair trade in my eyes. thank you so much young man, this makes his life so much easier"

To this, Gail has no response but to smile awkwardly and gather up his ingredients. "s-same time next week?" he asks, getting a nod in response.

Gail moves quickly into the crowd, blending into it almost as second nature until he bumps into someone, knocking a lady's basket out of her arms as he backs up apologizing to the first someone. shit...fuck...damnit...argh he thinks as he bolts from the scene out of embarrassment after frantically trying to help the woman, who refused.

finally regaining his composure as he walked towards the slums, Gail remembered that with this newest shipment, Buddy would finally have more supplies to give him. Dust... Black Lotus... drugs are such a disgusting phenomenon, people selling their souls for a chance at the next high. But, people are gonna get hooked whether they want to or not, and it doesn't do them any favors to remove the drug from them entirely. Especially with how much they pay. He turned down an especially slimy looking alley, loudly coughing twice and then hitting the blade of his knife against the brick wall. he stood and waited for a while... it is possible that he won't be here today... might take some time for it to get to him... but he popped out from the back door of an old warehouse, flanked by a large man, long haired and surprisingly well armored - he was new, and Gail immediately checked behind himself, checking that that route wasn't blocked, ready to bolt.

"Calm down, 3," he said to Gail - neither knew each other's real name - "My friend Fist here is just a ...precaution... against some recent incursions into my territory by... well, you don't really care by whom, do you?" for a man as grimy looking as he was, Buddy was surprisingly eloquent, putting him relatively out of place among Gail's usual backstreet crowds. "Pay me the usual, I'll give the usual."

"Show me." he said, pulling out his coin. "and I'll need some change."

"don't trust me, eh? I guess I can understand, Fist ain't exactly a friendly guy. You don't need to worry about him though, especially since you won't be getting your supplies from anyone else" he smiled, as Fist cracked his neck. After shuffling around in his bag for a moment, Buddy pulls out 3 bits, 4 bottles of Dust and 3 of Black Lotus. They exchange content, and thank each other, culturally mandated niceties in a world far from that which spawned them.

"two weeks?" Gail asked, getting a nod in response. He wandered back out the alleyway, noticing a loaf of bread at the side of it - someone must have dropped it. Giving it a once over after picking it up, he determined it was fresh, most likely anyway, and moving on after adding that to his bag. A good day, and good supplies for dinner. he'd be able to get started on that next potion, too.

~Winds of Fate- A Thief's Adventure~

Currency: 1 coin, 3 bits
Status: Mild headache/nausea, Jailed

Gail

Gail Caradec

Currency (start): 1 coin, 3 bits

Gender: Male
Age: 21
Race: Human
Origin: Gullian
Attire: Unarmored, has a nice wool coat though
Demeanor: hesitant/friendly/excitable/distractable/smooth-talker

Skillsets

Talking (distracting/convincing others) - 4
Stealth - 2
*Healing - 6
Climbing - 1
city knowledge (back alleys and the like – useful for running away) - 2

Background:

Gail’s mother died early, trying to give birth to her daughter. Both died, and Gail’s father was left to raise him. Ryredan Caradec was born and raised a thief, a master of the slight of hand and guile of language. While his son was able to quickly pick up on the family’s smooth talking ways, he shaky hands proved useless for many of the tasks his father set before him, and grew up constantly berated.
These shaky hands proved to be more than just a benign curse, however, as Gail learned after cutting himself on the hand making dinner, accidentally healing the wound he had just created, then passing out for three hours. His father was certainly worried when he came home to his 14-year-old child sleeping on the floor of their hovel, but didn’t believe his story, thinking he was just trying to excuse his laziness with a myth. When Gail repeated this same miracle later after burning his finger on the stove, this time with his father present, Ryredan realized the possibilities, and lifted a book on healing from a bookstore in town, hoping that his son’s abilities would be profitable. Unfortunately, when he discovered just how long it took to build up the strength to make even simple potions, he gave up on the whole escapade – what use was this magic if it couldn’t restore entire bones, or cure the town lepers and get his son looked at – and treated like a god? Unfortunately, when he was caught in the middle of robbing the house of a noble a year later, he didn’t have much of a chance to impose his own limitations on his son, or anyone else for that matter.
At least it was just exile.
Since the age of 15, Gail has been on his own, doing his best to carry on his father’s legacy while learning about his own skills. Theft is all he knows and all he was taught, though he has rarely succeeded in stealing anything large. He has, however, learned that people will pay surprisingly well for a liquid that helps to remove acne, among other small ailments, if they can afford it.
Magic, though rudimentary, still has its uses. Those blessed with the skill to restore living things from their injuries will find that it takes a great toll on their bodies to heal anything at all, and the magic is wild and unpredictable. By learning sets of movements and incantations, one can learn to carefully transfer this magic into water or other liquids. This must be done in small amounts, or the process will completely wear out the user. As it is, the amount of magic required for tasks increases with the scale of what they heal – learning to funnel ones magic into a potion that helps a body fight an infection is not too difficult. Trying to heal broken bones? That might take a day or two in total of focus and preparation for a bottle the size of a shot glass (though on the bright side, he can stretch the process over multiple days, a few hours at a time). At this point, Gail is capable of quickly healing small nicks and scratches without much effort, but will be seriously incapacitated if he needs to heal even a moderate injury. his potions could potentially produce a wide variety of useful effects, if he can figure out how to achieve it. they will not, however, put back together someone whose guts are hanging out.

Personal Effects:
4 small glass jars with stoppers on them, empty
A small completed potion; will reduce swelling from sores and acne if dripped over affected area
Another small potion, the most powerful he’s been able to create, capable of massively accelerating the healing process of broken bones if ingested.
A knife
Some bread he found on the walk home. It doesn’t look moldy?
One room hovel off in a back alley of the slums near the marketplace

~Winds of Fate- A Thief's Adventure~

switched it to climbing, then

~Winds of Fate- A Thief's Adventure~

Gail Caradec

Currency: 1 coin, 3 bits

Gender: Male
Age: 21
Race: Human
Origin: Gullian
Attire: Unarmored, has a nice wool coat though
Demeanor: hesitant/friendly/excitable/distractable/smooth-talker

Skillsets

Talking (distracting/convincing others) - 4
Stealth - 2
*Healing - 6
Climbing - 1
city knowledge (back alleys and the like – useful for running away) - 2

Background:

Gail’s mother died early, trying to give birth to her daughter. Both died, and Gail’s father was left to raise him. Ryredan Caradec was born and raised a thief, a master of the slight of hand and guile of language. While his son was able to quickly pick up on the family’s smooth talking ways, he shaky hands proved useless for many of the tasks his father set before him, and grew up constantly berated.
These shaky hands proved to be more than just a benign curse, however, as Gail learned after cutting himself on the hand making dinner, accidentally healing the wound he had just created, then passing out for three hours. His father was certainly worried when he came home to his 14-year-old child sleeping on the floor of their hovel, but didn’t believe his story, thinking he was just trying to excuse his laziness with a myth. When Gail repeated this same miracle later after burning his finger on the stove, this time with his father present, Ryredan realized the possibilities, and lifted a book on healing from a bookstore in town, hoping that his son’s abilities would be profitable. Unfortunately, when he discovered just how long it took to build up the strength to make even simple potions, he gave up on the whole escapade – what use was this magic if it couldn’t restore entire bones, or cure the town lepers and get his son looked at – and treated like a god? Unfortunately, when he was caught in the middle of robbing the house of a noble a year later, he didn’t have much of a chance to impose his own limitations on his son, or anyone else for that matter.
At least it was just exile.
Since the age of 15, Gail has been on his own, doing his best to carry on his father’s legacy while learning about his own skills. Theft is all he knows and all he was taught, though he has rarely succeeded in stealing anything large. He has, however, learned that people will pay surprisingly well for a liquid that helps to remove acne, among other small ailments, if they can afford it.
Magic, though rudimentary, still has its uses. Those blessed with the skill to restore living things from their injuries will find that it takes a great toll on their bodies to heal anything at all, and the magic is wild and unpredictable. By learning sets of movements and incantations, one can learn to carefully transfer this magic into water or other liquids. This must be done in small amounts, or the process will completely wear out the user. As it is, the amount of magic required for tasks increases with the scale of what they heal – learning to funnel ones magic into a potion that helps a body fight an infection is not too difficult. Trying to heal broken bones? That might take a day or two in total of focus and preparation for a bottle the size of a shot glass (though on the bright side, he can stretch the process over multiple days, a few hours at a time). At this point, Gail is capable of quickly healing small nicks and scratches without much effort, but will be seriously incapacitated if he needs to heal even a moderate injury. his potions could potentially produce a wide variety of useful effects, if he can figure out how to achieve it. they will not, however, put back together someone whose guts are hanging out.

Personal Effects:
4 small glass jars with stoppers on them, empty
A small completed potion; will reduce swelling from sores and acne if dripped over affected area
Another small potion, the most powerful he’s been able to create, capable of massively accelerating the healing process of broken bones if ingested.
A knife
Some bread he found on the walk home. It doesn’t look moldy?
One room hovel off in a back alley near the marketplace