Fantasy Wotann Valannora (High Fantasy Role-playing Game)

~~~ Welcome One, Welcome All ~~~​

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INTRO - Teaser​

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QWENTA ORBEICA​

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Orbeis, Valanor, Vaniya.

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Fourth Age of Laelor.

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They saw fit to name me Amopaon, scribe of Epaminondas, the Seer of Vatha. It is by his behest that I now briefly recount the histories of the Southern Continent.

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~Laelor always was, never began to be and will never cease to, Laelor, The Maker, The Spirit, who created the Aetherius, Realm of Spirits, Magic and Dreams, placing the First in it, Vathar, the Maiar/Spirits of Time. Of all the Creator is, came the void and creation, from them The Dark One, and Aelis, Our Mother, Life, and with her, Death. And so it was she in turn gave life to the Telchar, Spirits of Change, followed by the Morkhar, Spirits of Death. Aelis fashioned her world, connecting it to that of Laelor, and named it the Orbeis, where the Maker then gave life to the Firstborn, Eldori (High Elves), who after him communed with the Vathar. Then, Aelis made the Athani (Elder Humans) after her heart, akin to the Telchar, birthing the Gryphons, Ents, Hippogriffs and Unicorns. But it was immortal power, knowledge, and man’s Mortality who gave way to the Amyntanaic Empire (Amyntani-Blood Elves); Eldori who imposed their superiority on man, dominating them, after discovering the power of the Morkhar Spirits and being seduced by them, birthing thus the Demons, Ogres, Wyverns, and Spiders. Unsatiated, they corrupted the Athani, who lessened with time into Edetani (Humans), and viler forms as the soulless Morkhain (Vampar) and the bestial Morgani (Draugwath- Werewolves). And so it was that when all seemed lost to man, the Eldori amassed their fury and broke the Emperor’s power, Basileus Amyntanyon, with much sacrifice, encasing him within an innocent soul, chaining his legion to the Aetherius, the Vampar, lost. Thus they ascended, taking leave of Valanor. With this endeth the First Age, Vathar, and the Second Age, Morkhar.

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In time came the Third Age, Telchar, on which rose the great Jarldoms of man. The Ascendancy of the Eldar and the suppression of the Morkhar brought forth the magic crash of both Eras, giving life to all other creatures and powers of the Orbeis, headed by the Athanaic Magii and their counterpart, the Mogi, followed by the Edetann Druids, Beornings, Wargs and all others, which lessened greatly with the dawn of the Valannar Pact. It was made by man who, ignoring the great Eldorian sacrifice, attributed their salvation to Maara’s Prayer, The Blameless, while others argued it was Arcturian’s Sacrifice, The Selfless, who saved them all; this divided them into the Dogma (The Church); Plegaris, represented by the Chalice of Sancdom; and the Lagra, represented by the Smite of Funushal. It was then by their agreement that the Pact was made, greatly restricting Magic across Vaniya, reducing and centering it to the tower of Maloglash (Tol Maran). Immediately after, they instated the Census, which limited the Athanaic, Edetann, and Morgainean powers by setting the Rexi, Vindexi, Teyrns and others, all towards balancing that era of ever decreasing stability. It nonetheless decayed further because it brought about the breaking of the Elven race, downtrodden to their reduction as Nymani (house Elves), slaves to the Athanaic Rexi, which later would incur in the sin of humanity, giving life to the Mornym abominations (Goblins/Orcs/Uruks). The Third Age ended with the secret Exodus concord, by which the Pact, with some help, agreed to undertake the liberation of all and every enslaved elf.

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This is how we begin the present Era, prophesied as Morkhar, with the return of the Morkhain. As it begins, Vaniya is divided between the Athani Rexi, their Edetani Teyrns, and the Morgani Vindexi. The Rexi: Aronbor, Rydony, Amburria, and Asrinon; Their Teyrns: Andor, Northerond, Doras, Inderinon, and Perdon; The Vindexi: Romara, Mirkesh, Iosia, Idrez, and Mordland.

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From prophecy, to whispers, stirrings and now growing discord and instability, the reawakening of the Vampar signals the dawn of the Fourth Age,

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Where You enter the stage.​

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(Game Description, Rules, Map & Character Creation coming soon)

 

~~~Miscellaneous materiel's been uploaded at the Role Playing Resource forums (Rules, Map, and How-to coming soon for all)

http://boards.theforce.net/forums/role-playing-resource.10855/

 

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~ GREETINGS ~​

~Hello Everyone and Welcome to Wotann Valannora (‘Hero-Circle of Valanor’/’Heroes of Valanor’),​

A vast world of Power, Might and Magic, Honor and betrayal, Life and Death,​

Where you may embody Heroes, Kings and pawns, Villains and Beings of old;​

A lifetime of inspiration is drawn to bring you this game from the ever wonderful universes of the Silmarillion-The Hobbit-Lord of the Rings-Red Book of Westmarch, Dragonlance, Le Morte d'Arthur, La Chanson de Roland, Sir Nigel & The White Company, A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones, Malazan Book of the Fallen, Age of Wonders, The Elder Scrolls, Wiedzmin (The Witcher), Naruto, Samurai Warriors & Dinasty Warriors, Harry Potter, Vikings, Dungeons & Dragons, Warcraft-World of Warcraft, Dragon Age, Kingdom Under Fire, Lair, Dungeon Siege, Dragon’s Dogma, Western/Occidental Fantasy & Mythology, and Medieval Ages & general High Fantasy.

} RULES {​

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1. Comply with the TOS, Rules of the JC, and RPF Rules.​

2. This is, foremost, a(n Epic) game. Create, Share, Have fun.​

3. Respect your fellow Players/Members.​

4. We will suffer no god-moding—power and knowledge are proven, backed up and evidenced in this Circle. No gods here, only worthy Players and a Game Master.​

5. Fool around, be unprepared, and meet an untimely end. As a player and game-maker I may understand, but the lands of Valanor are bereft of mercy, only to be trodden by the strong, the wise, the resourceful, the brave; your fellow Tyrs and Tyresses encourage you to enjoy, to participate and post with the quality owed to all, while doing your best. Compromise to your experience, to all of ours, and to the duties and oaths, burdens and privileges you adhere to in this game.​

6. Be mindful afore breaking any of these Rules—the last thing I seek, as Game Master, is to be forced to disregard, remove, or report people.​

7. The Game Master’s prime story & game authority derives from all regulations cited and stated above. I’m open—nonetheless Game Master say is final here.​

8. I may bestow Co-GM status to committed, resourceful players when the need arises. This is a Wotan, after all. They are instrumental in mission-making, leadership, further world-shaping, and may even inherit full GM status, by word of the GM.​

9. You are all more than WELCOME to join the game at any time by referring to the Character Creation resource thread and submitting a Request/Character Sheet to me via Private Message; I’ll provide feedback if/when necessary and may approve or deny any requests/sheets, subject to the lore and aims of the game. You may also use the Lore & Forces library resource thread as reference, or ask your GM—it’s what I’m here for.​

10. You can choose to create from scratch your very own Main Character, or to embody almost anyone of your liking in the land of Vaniya as your Main Character, albeit subject to my approval. You will play primarily as your Main Character (the most in-depth experience; detailed skills), and you may also have a number of Secondary Characters (companions/followers to your main one; limited skills), Story Characters (ones that add to the tale/narrative; contextual skills), and in some cases Story Factions—yes, entire Factions, all subject to my approval, via Private Message, by way of requests. Newly-made, original characters are strongly recommended, as you give shape to your own path here and bear the fruit of its manifold rewards; Story Characters and Story Factions are bestown prior to meeting special criteria.​

We play the game here, keeping strictly in-character (IC), and for the time being will keep all out-of-character (OOC) talk/matters within the Character Creation resource thread—a full-on OOC Thread is in the works, as well as a full-on Library Thread for housing all the Lore, embodied presently by the Lore & Forces thread.

~Character Creation reference/ooc thread:

http://boards.theforce.net/threads/wotann-valannora-character-creation-thread.50044032/

~Lore & Forces library resource thread:

http://boards.theforce.net/threads/wotann-valannora-lore-forces.50044033/

~~ Ongoing Events of the Fourth Age ~~​

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This is the Orbeis, the Mortal World. In it lies the great continent of Valanor, made up by Bersia, in the north, and Vaniya, in the south. The events of the Wotann Valannora Chronicle take place throughout the many lands and realms of Sudgaard, or ‘Vaniya’ in common, during the Orbeic Fourth Age.
Here follows a recount of all that’s transpired so far up to the moment of your entrance—‘fore that, though, for those that are keen on getting in-mood, here’s a couple of Epic Music links, to illustrate:

Wardruna - Ragnarok (for Theme and Athani/Edetani moods)



Forndom - Daudra Dura (for Fourth Age and Morkhain/Morgani moods)



Age of Wonders 2 OST (for Magic/Aethereal moods and those of old-school fancy)

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Complete Timeline​

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-Yavanna leaves Maradan in secret for Vaniya
-The Amyntani stir, sending ripples throughout the Aetherius, signaling the new Morkhar Age
-The Vampar reawaken, their Draugwath are sent to reave the sellsword lands (Lawton & Meadham, Teln)
-The Inquisitum is renewed at Funushal; The Smite moves firstly to take the heirs of Romara and Mirkesh
-The Forepraestar readies the brotherhood of the Chalice, summoning the Pallas to council
-The Pact of Maloglash is warned by the lessening of the Telchar Maiar/Spirits in the Aetherius
-First Mage Terenas travels to meet Athanasius, secretly, within the Summerswood
-The Wotan Valannoris fatedly forms after surviving the draugwath reaving; they decide to go to Amburria (Adonis/Artanis, Nentres of Garlot, Duomir Gottman, Bors, and Lot of Lothian)
-The Inquisitum: Isajas has Bavlos & Baltzar captures Curtnas Roddis, Danelius has Guttormur, Efrahim has Geirtryggur and Groibrandur; Isajas felled by the Vampar, Curtnas rescued by them (-1000 Inquisitum Carnifexii)
-The Mornym legion tunnels into Aronbor’s Colden Woods (40,000)
-Artanis/Adonis liberates the Elves (Nymani) of Amburria (5000)
-Fall of Arlodon (Aronbor) under the Mornym, and Pelm (Amburria) under the Morkhain; Rex Janus Rautainen falls, as Rex Agustainon Krastis, Apolonis, his Rexe, and Stephanas his son’s souls are taken by Comxt Vaklav. Ser Amadeus of Amburria dies trying to protect them, as Lot of Lothian inherits his charge over Evaldis; Ser Albanus of Aronbor wards over the Jarnsonner (Jostein, Jarand and Janek Rautainen)
-The Vampar kidnap Falcas Voirol while the Comxt seduces the Duxesse. Vidux Feliks is ‘assassinated’ when he departs in search of Falcas (he’s unintentionally Vamparized, he vanishes), as Fabion is kidnapped as well. The now ill Vidux Floran poisons his brother the Dux while meeting with the Teyrne of Northerond and blames her; the Comxt takes de facto power through the Duxesse after Floran falls with Vampirism; Ser Ansalm of Rydony protects Prinxesse Angelie, then saves both Falcas and Fabion with the help of a returned Vidux Feliks.
-Morkhain/Morgani-Mornym truce celebrated by Comxt Vaklav & The Mornym Aspects.
-The Comxt gathers his might in Romara and that of all the Morgani Fist, while granting Mirkesh to his Vixier, Viktor Blasz after he earns the Vindexdom by facing and felling Grimlaugur.
-Destruction of Maloglash: The Inquisitum attacks Tol Maran, taking the Vargabrodden with them as magic sacrifice; Terenas and Ireneus fall along with all the Magii and Apprentices (50 total); Isidorus, Jalamar and Justinus carry on. The Vargabrodden escape their sacrifice as Baltzar and Danelius die—only Efrahim [Ian McKellen] escapes (-500 Carnifexii, only 500 remain under him)
-The Mornym raze Eastdown and Metherton, sacking Vosstern as the Gyllene army marches over Northerond--the Valtraeld burns (Teyrne Guthwyn falls aside her Valkyrs, Ser Edmund of Northerond saves Edvard, Vynnar and Marwynn); then Rydony (now headed by the Comxt) and Perdon (unaware of this) gather their strength to face the Mornym along the Sommarlanns—all three armies meet their demise there. The Comxt arrives last with his own forces to take the battle after the Mornym aspects had destroyed the tower, so now he turns to face them, betraying them; the Mornym retreat--with a vengeance. The Comxt then marched on Annah (Teyrn Anatolius and Forepraestar Athanasius fall; Ser Donatus of Perdon saves Teyrne Benonia and Andrias; Ennibrattar brokers the union of all Kender, Halflings and Elves, gathering them at the Summerswood)
-The Raustein is protected by Justinus & Ser Albanus of Aronbor (Jarnsonner)
-Janek Rautainen marries Evaldis Krastis in Andor, overseen by the Wotan Valannoris
-Nentres finds Glorfindel, Lord of Unicorns in Opal Forest after being led there by Rochallor; he protects the heirs of Northerond aside Ser Edmund
-The Comxt readies his numbers in Serdanon while the Roddis Princes sack the Southern Duxy as Iosia besieges its strongpoints; Sivdda Virag of Mordland and Carol Donac of Iosia are married to Curtnas and Bavlos Roddis of Romara
-Idrez and Mordland move onto Rike (Doras), Idrez’ fleet watches Andor, Mirkesh readies, now reinforced by the Comxt’s Draugwath (5000)
-Nenthrassian Telumendil reveals himself and presents Duomir Dietmar, Heir of Andor, to Teyrn Ekard, who must now face his past
-Gilthanas Cuthalion, The Elessar, reveals himself in Varinon (Asrinon) after finally saving/reuniting all the Nymani (Elves) in the Silverwood (25,000); Andrias Ostervigg of Perdon marries Siltanne Celtham of Asrinon there. Asrinon gathers its might as Inderinon musters on The Low Wolds
-Edvard of Northerond at Retreat with 500 Ridyrs and 500 Woodmen; Bann Gudvar makes war on Bann Halgeir and Bann Gramwald
-Battle of Carnage Hill (Comxt Vaklav gathers his full Fist and battles the strength of Doras, Inderinon and Asrinon; a deep stalemate results after great losses on both sides)

Numbers after Carnage Hill​

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--Aronbor: from Raustein castle, The Cleft, Rael, Havnor, Aron tower and Thrastone Keep; 1000 Hammermen and 2500 Shieldhammermen under The Hammers (10) and Magnar Mathaus
--Andor: Andor, Luhn, The South Midgen (Harmalewn tower to Southkeep); 2500 Axemen and 3000 Shieldaxemen under Magnar Leopold, plus Andor’s full strength
--Blomst: Dux Feliks Voirol, Navoss, Vossgard, Meden, Mether to Esteran; 500 Pallantyrs, 1500 Pavyrs, 3000 Tyrs
--Northerond: Retreat to Opal; 1000 Ridyrs, 1000 Woodmen
--Perdon: Trey Forest to Crabbe Islands; 1000 Cavalry, 1000 Men at Arms
--Doras: Ermoly to Olking (Teyrn Laagon falls defending Rike); 1000 Oarmen, 2000 Boatmen, 200 Horsemen
--Inderinon: 2500 Inderri

5 Years of Uneasy Peace follow​

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--Asrinon: 6000 Mounted Silmen, 12,000 Silmen, 5000 Cuthmen, 25 Boats (30 Silmen & 30 Cuthmen each; 1500), 500 Celedrim, 25,000 Elderin (50,000)
--Mirkesh: 8000 Lashmen, 6000 Huntsmen, 1000 Worgs, 5000 Draugwath
--Romara: 1500 H Horse, 1500 Horse, 4500 H Foot, 4500 Foot; +Southern Duxy
--Iosia: 6000 Bronnshields, 4000 Koppshields, 2000 Peltasts
--Idrez: 500 Joms, 4000 Huscarls, 1000 Carls, 6000 Landsmen, 500 Thralls (25 longboats)
--Mordland: 8000 Yeomen, 4000 Shieldmen
--Morkhain: “Udodvalde”, 50 Vampar, 500 Kharnei, 500 Morpallae, 40,000 Skjells (20,000 from Amburria, 20,000 from Rydony/Perdon)
--Mornym: 500 Ologh, 5000 Arakhns, 15,000 Lugz, 5000 Burz, 5000 Dulz
--Jotunn: 10,000, 5 Jotnar, Vorslukk; Cray

-Duomir of Andor (now 35) marries Adelfine Dietmar (26) and claims his rights, backed by Janek Rautainen (25) and Evaldis Krastis (34); Teyrn Ekard steps down as Evald ascends as Steward, Duomir choosing to remain part of the Wotan Valannoris
-The Mornym Aspects visit Angaar; The Fallen One (risen Athanasius) goes to Pelm and gathers Vortigern, Cadwallon and Artegal to him after fighting off the Mornym Aspects for the second time (first in Angaar), then returns to the Sancdom

Attack on Andor/Aronbor, Doras and Asrinon​

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The Morkhain/Morgani organize a combined offensive that sees the complete conquest of Andor/Luhn, Aronbor and Perdon, severely weakening Inderinon and a near-lost Doras as it is invaded by the Jotunn, who now seat at The Kerns after laying waste to Ermoly

--Aronbor: 1000 Hammermen, 1000 Shieldhammermen, 1000 Axemen, 2000 Shieldaxemen; Raustein
--Andor: 11 Boats (60 Arbalestmen & 30 Boatmen each, 1000 men) and 2000 full Gottmen; Aronbor and Andor forces/people transported to the Raustein from Luhn by Nenthrassian and Tar-Sethlyr
--Blomst retains its previous number and extent
--Northerond: 1000 Ridyrs, 500 Longspearmen, 1500 Woodsmen
--Perdon fully falls under the Skjells
--Doras: 500 Oarmen, 1500 Boatmen, 200 Horsemen, fleet lost at Ermoly; Rabbe Forest
--Inderinon: 2000 Inderri; Rabbe Forest
--Asrinon: loses 5000 Elderin vs Vampar; Silverwood & Asrinon
--Idrez: loses 1000 Landsmen, 1000 Carls & 500 Thrall (fleet lost at Rike)
--Morkhain: the Lich Tryade reanimates 5000 more Skjells on Perdon=45,000; 15,000 in Andor, 15,000 in Providence (Perdon), 15,000 in the Sirvalle (Asrinon)

-Iosia controls the Grey Coast, claiming Thrastone Keep, Aron, Havnor and Rael, trading with the Mornym who control from Markas tower upward; Idrez claims the South Midgen up to Harmalewn tower, igniting ancien rivalry with Mordland who now claims Andor/Luhn
-Isidorus awaits at Rabbe Forest as the Eagles of Silverlode (Silverwood) ferry the Dorians and the Inderri to Stanton and Kerrfield (Asrinon); Jalamar watches over them at Rinon Tower/The Windspire (NW of Kerrfield)
-Nenthrassian Telumendil and Tar-Sethlyr uplift Terl and sink Scala (Northerond) by using the combined power of three Staves (the Arcstave and the Thunder & Water Telchar Staves) after finding Taredin and Ulmus (young Dwarven orphans, Thunder and Water respectively), then granting the Staves to the now-Apprentices; as soon as the power of the Arcstave is used, Ar-Trazzar comes forth to Aquilon on the matter of becoming First Mage and the holder of the Arcstave
-Gleodig (25) and Brytta (26) of Inderinon travel north to unite the horse as the Celtham Princes head as well to Blomst
-Glorfindel visits Beornheim on the matter of the Vargflokk (the 5000 Draugwath) upon Eltiss (they traveled that far through truces earned by the Vargabrodden and the now rebellious Viktor and Yelena Blasz; Yelena stole the Ring of Tunntyl from Prinx Kasimir as Viktor declared himself independent of the Comxt following talks in the Enigtrad; Mirkesh, under the Vargabrodden watches The Goldsward as the Vargflokk seeks a new beginning at Eltiss)
-Edvard of Northerond crowns Marwynn Teyrne after marrying Eddin (both are 23), as Vynnar (25) marries Folca (24), effectively uniting his people after Bann Gramwald’s and Gudvar’s fateful duel deaths
-Blomst allies with the Jarnsonner, giving the watch of Vossgard over to Jarand/’The Hammers’; Tar-Sethlyr equips the newly made ‘Hammersorden’. Now, Dux Feliks considers invoking Wergeld upon the Vargflokk into taking back the Southern Duxy if they wish to stay at Eltiss
-The Order of Amburr reawakens as Jostein Rautainen (30) joins the newly formed “Vanyan Thanein” (he holds Brytta dearly—nonetheless they say goodbye)

[~Ones who’ve fallen so far: Rex Janus Rautainen, Dux Faust Voirol & Vidux Floran, Teyrne Guthwyn, Bann Gramwald & Gudvar, Teyrn Anatolius Ostervigg, Ser Amadeus of Amburria, Terenas & Ireneus of The Telchar Pact, Vindex Grimlaugur, Isajas, Baltzar & Danelius of The Smite, Teyrn Laagon of Doras]


On a final note, we will be starting the game on ten full days’ time, on Monday, February 13th; make full use of this time to submit your requests/sheets, get familiarized with the lore and story, and as always, to ask me any questions/address your concerns.

Well met and Welcome.

Now the Map (here, shortly), and then onto Characters (incoming, at the reference thread)

 

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0BzdIR_jtPgAveWp2cThEcjhtSkk​

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https://drive.google.com/open?id=0BzdIR_jtPgAvalFHYmItOXp0aUE​

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Jarldoms & Factions​

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~Eldori/Maradan: The hidden paradis of the ascended High Elves, the Firstborn are ever watchful, allowing the Ages come to pass

~Amyntani/Funushal: Once the titanic Blood Elven lords of the Amyntanaic Empire, now shackled within the Aetherius, whose worldly Gateway is watched over by The Smite, keepers of the Census, at The Sundered Peaks

~Aronbor: 'Ironforge', where the Ironborn smith a life of duty and hard work, they watch over the Ruhks at the Colden Wall; a land of armoured men and fortified stone

~Andor: the 'Gottsdel', hardened sailors and craftsmen of the Western Isles; the Gottsmaend, friends of Aronbor

~Rydony: 'Blomst' is the bountiful land of the Gyllenes, where the colorful court of Vossham mingles with the golden might of the Voirol Dux

~Northerond: the evergreen, peaceful Spearlands, where the Valkyrs of old still ride the Mearas in friendship to the Beornheim druids; they are the free vassals of Rydony

~Perdon: a diverse land, the home of magic, where wise Anatolius presides over the strength of The Chalice, The Telchar Pact, the Ents of Summerswood, the Halflings of the Sommarlanns, and all Kenderkine; Piety & Honour, Tolerance & Cooperation are principle across this wonderful realm. From it, the brotherhood of the Sancdom protects all of Vaniya as it watches over the mages of Maloglash tower, the only place in all of Sudgaard where the free use and full teaching of magic is allowed

~Mirkesh: 'Merlash', the harsh slavers and hunters of the Goldsward, home of the whip and the meat-craving Worg

~Romara: a feared Jarldom where the black & blood banner of Roddis flies, whose infamous Vindexe is as strong as its Steel legions

~Iosia: the ourange land of the Koppkine, proud forgers of Copper, Bronze, and a mighty war machine; a reasonable people, famed for their strength and art

~Amburria: the elderland of Amburr, one of the first Athanaic Sires, whose unbroken line and wisdom still rules over a realm most powerful and ancient

~Idrez: the reaving, razing Vikingr of Idrez are a strong, warlike people whose longboats and horns signal only certain doom

~Mordland: misty, forested lands make up the Virag Vindexdom, where men work and live by wood, bow and sword in equal measure

~Doras: old Laagon jarls over the rivered heartland of Sudgaard with quick justice and the speedy Dorian riverboat

~Asrinon: the Silverlode is a realm of historied, natural beauty where the Eldori are most remembered in song and deed as its men and women fashion lives of good under the stars

~Inderinon: the plains of the free Inderri, horsefriends of Asrinon and Doras, where Edetani ride as much as they walk

~Morkhain: the first among the fallen Athani who sold their souls to the Morkhar Maiar through the Amyntani, holders of immortal power, standard bearers of longest-lasting void and darkness; they slept for an Age at the Ruins of Teln, awoken now at the call of their terrible masters--nonetheless, their leader, in this new age, is resolved to suffer none but himself

~Mornym: the Goblins, Orcs and Uruks born from the abuse of the Athani over the already-broken Nymani; part elf, part human, all blood-thirst and war, they've but one purpose: their revenge upon man, the conquest and destruction of all--they will serve their masters fully as the foolish Morkhain now refuse

~Ownmen: the Sjalvs are all those that would serve no banner nor Jarl other than themselves, outcasts and mercenaries, bandits and those of shaded honours who'll live and die by their own will alone; to some the crossroads of the Suthern Cont', to others the place where fates and names may begin anew, or end

~Jotunn: led by the Jotnar, the towering warriors of Kraytsslandir (Isle of Cray) look for a challenge, a legacy, and a new home fit their size; their hunger for glory and battle is equal only to that of the Kraken, their herald

~Aethrandir: The Aetherius Travelers, highest of all Magii, Guardians of Sudgaard, Protectors of the Kringresande and the Konstringa

~Moriquendi: the Eldori that chose to remain in Vaniya after the Ascension--and those that had to; in time, as the power of men grew during the Third Age, many were taken and abused as Nymani. The Laêldin Elëssar, Gilthänas Cuthälion, bears the weight of their liberation and survival in this ever-darkening world

~The Wotan Valannoris: The Hero-Circle of Valanor, captains of the Vanyan Thanein ('The 25', You)

 

Greetings, fellow Roleplayers

Here's my full Main Character Sheet; you can go over my Secondary Character Sheets at the Character Creation reference thread

I await all yours afore we begin play next monday, February 13th Cheers

Main Character Sheet​

-Name/Alias(es): Gilthänas Cuthälion/Amyntânyon, “The Elëssar, Artanis, Adonis”
-High Fantasy Race: Ëldori Laêldin (‘Moriquendi’/‘Dark Elf’)
-Gender: Male
-Age: Born in The First Age, he’s lived across ages for numberless thousands of years

-Physique: Of a tall, athletic build that boasts both beauty and strength, elegance and deadliness, prime youth and ancient age, he moves with minimum waste and maximum art; his long, silken straight hair changes from a dark gray when calm to the lightest of grays when strained, so do his starblue eyes range from it to shades of cyan onto a deep bloodred. Sharp features adorn his near emotionless countenance, a gaze most profound, fair of skin now, nigh to white then; a body gifted, proportioned and shaped as though by the very Gods themselves

-Personality: An Elf of taste and the finest of upbringings, he’s fond of the Art of Death, Honourable Dueling and The Arts of Combat; of Nature, Creatures, Animals & Beasts and the thrill of the Hunt, of all the Beauty that is to be found and portrayed in and by the Elven and Athanaic instruments, The Stage and Poetry, fine Literature and Speech, Voyaging and Barding across the lands, Riding, Magic, and the Art of War; he’s the carrier of heavy, olden burdens, as old as his sorrows, and as strong as his resolve. A natural-born leader, commander and prince, of earnest friends, if only a few, and of even fewer words that nonetheless ward over feelings, opinions and ideas, experience and toil, that are as ancient as the world. Kind to those in need, and final to those he deems worthy of only death; he knows of joy, when he’s not in remembrance and gloom of things long-past and the maniform challenges of the day, ever aware, sharpest, of honed skill and cultured intelligence, his virtues can at times be shadowed by his anger, by his grief, one devoid of feeling, whose true home is the night, and himself only. The truest of friends, he loves deeply. He sees death as the greatest of gifts, the last road—one outmatched by his immortality; and life, as his foremost companion.

-Occupations:
~'Adonis': Leader of the Wotan Valannoris, Margraves a hundred Sjalvs in it, and serves as Bann of the Vanyan Thanein; an Ownmen captain, agent, and hired fist of the finest quality
~'Artanis': The Liberator of the Nymani Elves, celebrated across Vaniya
~The Elessar: Elvenprince, ‘The Elvenstone’, Savior and Protector of all Elves
~Gilthanas Cuthalion: ‘Lord of Stars’, the ‘Sun & Moon Greatbow’, Son of Aratar Lord of all Eldori, The Living Prison of The Enemy, Amyntanyon

-Weapons:

Yavänna’s Arms (Spirit Highsteel Hilts, Bowgrip, and Quiver)
2 Mithril blades, 4 Mithril daggers,
Steel and Silver arrows, Ebony/Mithril Elvenbow,
Silvermail-covered Otataral longblade & Mithril/Otataral kusarigama
Mithril chainmace

-Armor:

Mithril pauldrons, rerebraces & vambraces, chestplate & plackart, cuisses, and greaves
Ebony gauntlets, boots/sabatons, couters & poleyns, belt, fauld & tasset
Mithril undermail, black Leather, and dark Elvencloth hooded cape & clothes
Mithril shieldarm & helm


-Mount/Pet: black Mearas (white Lord of Pegasii; Wind, Restoration, Illusion, Conjuration, Spirit)


-Homeplace: Valamindon (of old The Great Eldori Citadel, broken in the Morkhar War that put an end to the Second Age; today’s Sundered Peaks)

-Bio: Born in the First Age of Valanor, firstborn to Aratar, Eldori Lord of Lords, brother of Ilmatar. It was his father that gathered the might of the Eldar to fell the power of the Amyntans in the Second Age; his victory came with the highest of sacrifices, his life, with that of all his sons, daughters and beloved wife. The only one of his that survived him, Gilthanas, bore the heaviest of burdens, for Amyntanyon could not be undone, save chained by the worth of an innocent soul; thus it was that Aratar, afore passing, imprisoned his Dark Enemy in the body of his Son. And so it was that, to this day, Gilthanas leads the fight and the defense against the evil forces of the world. He bore witness to the breaking of his race during the Third Age, who fell from Eldori, to Moriquendi, to slavering Nymani, and even further, onto Mornym, by man’s doing. By the Fourth Age of the Orbeis, the prophesied return of the Morkhar, he succeeds in the liberation of his people from the decaying and now near to fallen Athanaic Rexdoms, his good people, who now lead a new, prosperous life in the Silverwood, The Tree Fastness. A friend to Duomir of Andor and Bors the Beorning, an equal to Nenthrassian Telumendil and Lotharus of Annah, he’s at the fore of the Wotan Valannoris, The Circle of Valanor

-Class: Elven Nightblade/Demon Hunter
-Titanium Skills: One-Handed, Dual, Archery; {Spirit/Blood}
-Skills:

Hunting 3, Climbing 1, Swimming 1, Tanning 2, Blacksmithing 1,
Fortification 2, Writing/Speech 3, Accounting/Trading 2,
Music/Singing, Barding/Acting, Poetry/Literature, Astronomy (each Art is 1 point),
Strategy 3, Logistics 2, Siege 1,
Stealth 3, Hand to Hand 3, Throwing 2,
Riding 3, Mounted Archery 3,
One-Handed 5, Dual 5, Archery 5, Alteration 1

{Spirit 5 & Blood 5,
Spirit Sight & Blood Sight, 2; Life/Blood, Spirit, and Truesight Vision, 3}

50, +5 (Legendary Bonus); {+15 Intrinsic & Artifact Bonuses}

 

GM APPROVED

Main Character Sheet
-Name/Alias(es): Bren Rosk
-High Fantasy Race: Halfelven Athani (Elder Human-Wood Elf)
-Gender: Male
-Age: 60
-Physique: Appears as a mid 30s athletic male with short brown hair, green eyes, and a well maintained black beard. He stands about 6ft tall and lacks any distinguishing marks or features
-Personality: Possessed of a keen intellect and almost eidetic memory, extreme dislike of authority, most certainly has a mean streak to him and has been known to be vindictive towards those who have wronged him. Lacks direction in life and tends to overthink, likely lacks a strong capacity for empathy given the nature of the magic he prefers
-Occupation: Wanderer/Mercenary
-Weapons: Ebony Staff, Steel/Silver longsword
-Armor: Coppermail vest with Fur doublet underneath and a black Leather tunic over the mail with matching pants, full length forest green Elvencloth hooded cloak, and worn brown Leather boots
-Mount/Pet: Old chestnut stallion
-Homeplace: Elwood (Thieves Wood, Perdon)
-Bio:
Bren was born to an unwed mother in the haven of Elwood, in the Thieves Wood. He was conceived during a tryst between one of the Magus Apprentices (Athani) and a young farm girl by the name of Solreisse (Wood Elf). From the time he was old enough to understand Bren constantly queried his mother about who his father was; she answered that he was a Magus of Maloglash tower--Bren grew up being fascinated by this. Life on the farm was tough but they scraped by, aided by the occassional contribution from his father, whom he barely knew, until an illness swept through town around Bren's 15th birthday--it took away his mother, and with her his sense of purpose. So he sold the farm and took up a life of wandering.

Bren moved from village to village, never staying in one place for more than a month, committing petty crimes using his magic to support his lifestyle. That is, until he tried to rob the wrong person. While awaiting the return of a house Elf he'd "convinced" to scout his master's house, he felt a sharp pain as the link between him and the elf was severed directly; a voice screamed inside his head, "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TRYING TO ROB BOY I WILL FIND YOU". Sufficiently spooked, Bren decided he was leaving town that night. At a farm on the outskirts of town he stopped for a drink at a well, when suddenly his head started hurting again, and as he was blacking out the same voice shouted "GOTCHA NOW!"

When Bren awoke he was in a dungeon of sorts, chained by his hands and feet to a chair, with his captor, a mage who introduced himself as "Jax" standing before him. Interestingly enough, the look on Jax face was not one of anger but of amusement. After questioning Bren on the basics and using magic to confirm Bren's connection to the Aetherius, Jax snapped his fingers and the chains came undone. Bren's confused face prompted a response from Jax, who said "Don't worry boy, I don't mean to harm you; in fact I will teach you to hone your skills into something sharper. Why would I do this? Simple--I sense potential in you." With no other viable options, and ever curious about the power of Magic, Bren agreed to go.

Upon their arrival at Mnost, a Romaran town where he would live and train secretly under Jax, his first task was simple: reading and comprehending texts on different types of magic. For Bren it was no task at all since he was young and his mother taught him reading; he had a love for books and knowledge, and it was also around that time that he discovered the power of his memory. Upon reading something once, or twice at most, the text would be fully committed to memory, a boon to be sure, considering Jax's frequent tests which promised unpleasant results should he fail. After he was deemed competent, actual spell-work began and it became apparent that he had a knack for conjuring and illusion magic. Jax, impressed by his skill, concluded that he was to learn Blood Magic from him. Bren was uneasy at first, but once again had little choice and, after he had taken some lives with his newfound magic and recognized its power, he dove in. Upon completion of his training, Jax awarded him an Ebony staff, an object of great power that Bren treasures greatly.

It was thence that 'Jax' revealed himself to Bren: he is Efrahim [Ian McKellen], one of the four Blood Magii of The Smite of Funushal, and not only that, but his Grandfather, for Solreisse was Efrahim's own bastress. Efrahim then told him it was time to fulfill the destiny his blood had lain out for him, which is why it was fated that he learn magic from him.

For a great man like Efrahim priorities shift rapidly and with his bastard Grandson now a grown man and a skilled Apostate, he sent him off, his only warning to avoid agents of the Dogma (The Church/Chalice & Smite) at all costs. Eager to continue improving his magic, Bren began to sell his services as a spellsword. To avoid undue suspicion, he again never stayed in one place too long, simply moving from one battlefield to the next and, sure enough jobs followed, be it interrogation, infiltration, or murder he took on any task--if he felt it was a challenge. For a long time Bren reveled in it; he enjoyed being feared and the lifestyle his fees afforded but he could never shake the feeling
that something was missing, though regardless he buried such feelings under the blood of his enemies.

Time passed, and things became mundane again; nonetheless the winds of fate blew, the world changed and, seeking the meaning of his life which had been eluding him so long, Bren set out to meet the Wotan Valannoris, whom he'd heard was riding again under Gilthanas Cuthalion, 'The Elëssar'; eager to see what type of battles fighting under such a legend would be like, he set off to join.

-Class: Apostate Battlemage
-Titanium Skills: Blood, Illusion, Conjuration
-Skills:
Medicine (1);
Climbing (1); Swimming (1);

Writing/Speech (3), Accounting/Trading (2);
Art (Poetry/Literature (1), Astronomy (1), History/Heraldry (1), Theology (1));

Strategy (3), Logistics(1);
Stealth (1), Crime (1), Spycraft (1), Interrogation/Torture (3);
Hand to Hand (1);
Riding(1);
One-Handed (4); Two-Handed (4)

Alteration (3) (Telekinesis/Kinetics, Sizing, Shielding)

Mysticism (3) (Rebounding, Absorbing, Negating)

Illusion (4) (Movement (Muffled/Shadows/Fast), Weaving, Occlumency, Control (Inspire/Fear, Rapture/Confusion, Persuasion/Domination))

Conjuration (4) (Conjuring, Phasing/Apparating/Teleporting, Banishing, Portals)

Blood (4) (Glyphs (Buffing/Hexing/Cursing), Bending & Shaping, Absorbing/Restoring & Healing/Regeneration, Dark Illusion & Torture)

Edit: Link to a larger picture for some reference http://www.chainimage.com/images/oscar-isaac-robin-hood-pin.jpg

 

Greetings again to all​

​

As we've several Characters in the works, I'm formally announcing the game's start date to be extended for a full 5 more days, to be this​

Saturday, February 18th​

​

This to allow everyone, Players and Potential Players, to fully decide on, shape, sharpen and finish their Characters to heart's content and comfort before start ​

​

We begin our Chronicle on February 18th​

​

Cheers​

 

Main Character Sheet
-Name/Alias(es): Rebecca Dragon, 'Verdant Guard, Bloodstained Killer, Crimson Blade, Laughing Butcher'
-High Fantasy Race: Athani-Edetani Halfblood
-Gender: Female
-Age: 30
-Physique: Tall and stocky with bright red hair, it's hard to tell that she is a woman clad in her steel plate armor and helm
(Visual Reference: Brienne of Tarth)
-Personality: Quiet, determined, loyal, homicidal but, she keeps it hidden, and doesn't kill just anyone, usually she only attacks animals or those she is hired to kill.
She's rather untrained in skills outside of woodsmen and martial skills, she quickly finds herself lost in social settings
-Occupation: Sellsword
-Weapons: Steel bastard sword, "The Dragon's Talon"
-Armor: Heavy Steel plate armor & helm with Bronze undermail,"The Dragon's Scales"; Cloth heavy cape (green)
-Mount/Pet: -
-Homeplace: Longfirn towne, Amburria
-Bio:

Rebecca was the only child of Hephzibah and Roger, a seamstress and carpenter who lived in a small village along the coast. While Becca was still just a babe, bandits attacked the village, slaughtering the inhabitants and putting buildings to the torch. Her mother was slain in the attack but, her father survived by killing an attacker with his hammer, then taking up a sword to defend his home. All he could save was his daughter.

He set off for the nearest town with Rebecca tied to his back in a rudimentary sling, and carrying a long wooden trunk. In town Roger kept them fed doing odd jobs ranging from masonry to carpentry. One day, close to Rebecca's thirteen name-day, she felt overwhelmed with homicidal urges. She wanted to feel another living creature's life blood on her hands. She captured a rat and was about to disembowel it with a simple knife when her father stayed her hand.

He explained that this was the curse of the Dragon's Blood, that she would feel the need to kill and if she didn't she'd go mad. With a somber demeanor Roger took Rebecca out into the field and captured a white rabbit. She wanted to slay it as soon as he'd captured it but, again her father stopped her, it wasn't yet the time.

In a simple shack he'd built, Roger lashed Rebecca to a stake and sat on the ground, out of reach, with the rabbit in his lap. Becca's blood burned in her veins, her eyes were wide lusting to kill the furry creature. Her heart called out for its death and horrible screams and curses tore from her throat. At the point she thought she would truly go mad with want, he father released the quarry. The rope that had bound her snapped like twine and she fell upon the rabbit with a fury she had never known possible. She tore the poor beast apart with her bare hands, smearing the gore across her face and chest.

As the blood cooled and congealed on her skin she felt the rage leave her body. Looking to her father, his eyes were downcast, a stoic expression on his face. This was the same ritual he was put though by the people that raised him, and he had prayed that she would not inherit his curse. A hope unanswered, for it was fated so.

They never returned to that town, living out in the wilds. He taught her how to wield a blade, how to put on armor, and how to care for armor. He also showed her how to control her urges, mostly by hunting game but, she never felt fully sated after a hunt--they were rarely as visceral as her first kill. So her life continued with a burning coal of blood lust scorching her heart though, her father's training kept it from becoming a conflagration.

He explained that he was once a mercenary, trained by a mysterious group that saw his curse as something to be fostered and controlled. After sowing so much death and destruction, he found his good heart couldn't handle what his blood demanded. He settled down in the village, content to live out his days as a commoner.

They lived away from people, her father too worried about her losing control of her urges. One day a group of men flying a banner of some sort attacked their hut, calling them poachers and trespassers. Roger yet again leapt to the defense of his home. Unfortunately he didn't have time to don his armor, facing them in only his arming doublet and wielding his bastard sword. He slew most of the party.

Rebecca watched from the doorway, eyes wide as she witnessed her father slaying one man after another. Blood stained the ground, and not a drop of it was Roger's.

That was until the last remaining man ran him through with a bronze spear. Roger's eyes went wide, and a scream tore form Rebecca's throat. She rushed out, feeling her blood raging in her veins. Never before had she wanted so badly to kill something in her life.

The soldier tried to remove his arm from Roger's chest but, the former mercenary held fast to it, his eyes burning with rage. Seeing no other option, the attacker released his spear and drew his sword.

It was not a duel one hears in stories; there was no banter, no great feats of sword play. She charged him swinging with all her might battering at his defenses until she could close the distance and take the battle to the red-stained ground. They rolled around both sides becoming covered in dirt and blood, both fighting to survive.

In the struggle she lost her sword, and his hands wrapped around her neck, strangling her. Her lungs burned as she fought for breath. Her hand found a rock and she struck the man atop of her.

His weight shifted and she was able to turn the fight, finding herself straddling the man's chest with a rock in her hand. She brought the primitive weapon down on his exposed face, again, and again. Ribbons of blood flew on to her face, and she relished the feeling of it cooling on her face.

Her strikes were constant, and did not ease until the man was fully still under her, his face beaten to a bloody pulp mess. Her hands were shaking, her breath heavy. The flame in her heart felt cooled, for the first time in her life her veins didn't burn. A rush of peace washed over her and a laugh left her chest, a laugh of relief, tears of joy falling from her eyes.

This peace was short lived however, as her father coughed, still impaled upon the spear the man she'd just slain, her first human kill. She rushed to his side, ripping the weapon from his chest, and cradling him in her arms. The tears once of joy were now of deepest sorrow. Her father, the only person she had felt for, was fading.

With a shaking hand he ran two fingers down the path her tears had made, declaring her A Dragon, fit to bear his Scales, and carry his Talon.

She was confused, worried about what she should do. All her father could say with his last breaths was,

"Seek challenge, seek a fellowship you can trust, and please, please my little dragon, do not give in to your blood."

His last words given, he passed on. She buried him in a simple grave next to the hut, in the Iosian Westwood. Gathering her things, and for the first time donning her father's armor, she walked away from the only life she'd ever known.

Now she walks the land selling her services to anyone that will have her, and seeking out those men that slew her father, those that walk under the banner of the Iosian Spear.

Through her work she has gained some renown not just in Amburria but in Iosia itself, Idrez, and Mordland.

In Amburria she is the Verdant Guard, her blade always ready to defend the weak, her strength the shield of the defenseless.

In Iosia, she is called the 'Bloodstained Killer', slayer of a hundred men, that smears her face with the blood of the fallen; in Idrez she is the Crimson Blade, her sword constantly dripping with the lifeforce of the freshly killed, and worst of all, in Mordland, she is the 'Laughing Butcher', the woman that smiles as she stands ankle-deep in blood.

A Woman of contradictions and half-truths, just trying to find her way in the world.

-Class: Dragonblood Warrior
-Titanium Skills: Two-Handed, Hand to Hand, Blacksmithing
-Skills:

Fishing (1); Hunting (2); Agriculture (1); Medicine (2); Mining (1);
Climbing (1); Swimming (1);
Tanning (2), Blacksmithing (3), Metallurgy (2);
Construction (2), Fortification (2), Masonry (2);
Writing/Speech (1), Accounting/Trading (1);
Strategy (1), Logistics (1), Siege (1);
Hand to Hand (3); Shield Mastery (1);
Riding (2):

One-Handed (5); Two-Handed (5);
Archery (2);

{Blood (3) (Buffing, Absorbing/Restoring & Healing/Regeneration)

Vision (1) (Life/Blood)

Spirit (1) (Willpower)} {Dragonblood Curse}

{Cursed Blood: Grants her fast healing from wounds sustained in combat, and also causes the Dragon's Rage, a state of extreme anger and ferocity usually brought on by desperation, or anger. The blood also makes her homicidal, she feels the need to kill, and can only resist it for so long before she must sate it.

Animals, men--it doesn't matter what it is, as long as it bleeds and she kills it with her hands, so she can feel at least a bit of peace. Has an almost euphoric experience after killing, particularly if the person she killed is a trained fighter--a challenge for her.}

 

GM APPROVED!



-Name/Alias(es): Valinor Barsylar/ Valin Bar/ 'Valspark'
-High Fantasy Race: Halfelven Athani (Moriquendi-Athani)
-Gender: Male
-Age: Three score years (60), looks in his twenties due to his Elven blood
-Physique: A youthful lad, vigorous and athletic. 5’11”, 155lbs. Silver hair, amber eyes, tan skin.
-Personality: Stoically devoted to do good an maintain balance in the world. Observant, respectful and tactful, except when it comes to injustice and those who perpetuate it. Can be opinionated, but will listen to reason.
-Occupation: Ranger/Spellsword
-Weapons: 2 Mithril blades, 4 Steel/Silver throwing daggers, Ebony boot dagger.
-Armor: of Silver-banded Leather, Mithril undershirt, Leather boots, Steel vambraces, red Elvencloth hooded cloak; Auryn Medallion. Spell book. Potions.
-Mount/Pet: Arthax, his grey Mearas steed.
-Homeplace: Oakham, Asrinon. Currently dwells around the Perdon woods.
-Bio: Born from a union between a Moriquendi father and an Athani mother, Valin has little recollection of his Moon Elven father.
However, he was raised by his mother who was a kind and noble healer, who courageously traversed many dangers to assist those in need.
Valin now continues to carry-on the legacy he has inherited, in these dark and troubled times.

-Class: Cross-class Traveling Spellsword
-Titanium Skills: Primal-Pyromancer (Fire), Enchantment, Dual
-Skills:

Hunting 2; Medicine 3;
Climbing 2; Swimming 2;
Tanning 2;
Writing/Speech 3, Accounting/Trading 2;
Poetry/Literature 1, Astronomy 1, Theology 1;

Stealth 3;
Hand to Hand 3; Throwing 2; Riding 3;

Dual 5;
Primal (Fire) 5 (Bending, Warding, Shaping, Elementals, Movement)
Restoration 5 (Medicine, Restoring, Healing, Buffing, Regeneration)
Enchanting 4 (Shielding, Warding, Buffing/Hexing, Craft Mastery (powerful Primal Sphere spells))

Alteration 1 (Telekinesis/Kinetics)

 

Main Character Sheet



-Name: Aztallus Fospída
-High Fantasy Race: Draenei Demon/Maiar
-Gender: Male
-Age: Greatly millenary--time and age are things different and nigh-irrelevant in the Aetherius--far more so for Maiar Spirits
-Physique: Strongly built with his two sharp horns, four facial appendages, and hooves rather than feet
-Personality: Wise, patient, and incredibly devoted to protecting all that is good in the world. Yet knows how to wield strength when he needs to.
Has the tendency, nevertheless, to still believe in the good in people to a fault and thus can be tricked
-Occupation: Maiar Protector/Guardian
-Weapons: ornate Highsteel warhammer with Silver tracings, High Spellbook
-Armor: Highsteel plate pauldrons, cuirass and greaves with Silvertraced gauntlets and vambraces
-Mount/Pet: N/A
-Homeplace: The Aetherius
-Bio:

With a glow of blue fire, both intense and warm, Aztallus Fospída arrived into The Orbeis from The Aetherius itself. The blue flames rescinded into becoming his eyes, whereas the white flickers of flame mixed in resolved into the young woman next to him--his daughter, Jhaevala.

It is unknown what is next for them in their new adventure on the physical plane, but Aztallus recognizes it as only the next chapter in the tale of Light vs. Dark. For nigh his whole life, in The Aetherius, he toiled and fought against all spirits, entities, and agents of the Dark One.

It was his nature, for he was of the Vathar, a Spirit of The Light, after having renounced his initial making as a Morkhar. All that was good and bright was his lifeblood, it cried out to him to protect and cherish. And that was what he did, causing minor ripples through the connection between Aetherius and Orbeis with many a great deed, not knowing what effects they had, but ever hoping if he'd affected anything in the physical plane that he had done so for the Good amidst the second rise of evil.

His daughter was another story, for due to his union with a Telchar Maiar, she too had become a Spirit of Change. They were of another breed altogether, with different mindsets, though the two remained close as a parent and child should be.

As the Battle of Carnage Hill raged, the parallel between realms was also at play. Amidst it, Inistraal, who was his wife in the magical realm and the mother to Jhaevala, was slain. Despite the tragedy, the two have moved on though it yet subtly affects them, differently, in this new land.

The two Draenei Maiar awoke near The Sundered Peaks of Romara and swiftly made their way inevitably south. Adventures, mishaps, and the ever going fight against the darkness and death (even if only in minor ways thus far) forced them to constantly flee and fight further and further south.

They reached western Doras and traveled along the Black Hills and now near the Teln Mountains themselves.

This is where the pair of Maiar find themselves on Destiny's Great Road.

-Class: Paladin
-Titanium Skills: Two-Handed, Mysticism, Enchanting; {Light/Sacred}
-Skills:

Fishing (2); Hunting (2);
Climbing (1); Swimming (1);

Fortification (3);

Writing/Speech (3), Governance/Diplomacy (3);
Arts: Poetry/Literature (1), Astronomy (1), History/Heraldry (1), Theology (1);

Strategy (3), Logistics (2), Siege (3);

Hand to Hand (3); Throwing (2);

Two-Handed (5);

Arcane (1) (Bending)
Alteration (2) (Telekinesis/Kinetics, Sizing)
Mysticism (5) (Rebounding, Glyphs (Shielding, Warding, Buffing/Hexing), Absorbing, Negating, Cutting Off)]
Restoration (2) (Medicine, Restoring)
Enchanting (5) (Shielding, Warding, Buffing/Hexing, Blessing/Cursing, Craft Mastery (powerful Sphere Spells))
Light/Sacred (5) (Blessing, Warding (Sacred, Soul), Glyphs (Blessing/Warding), Vanquishing & Healing, Resurrection)}
Spirit (2) (Willpower, Breaking)
Vision (1) (Truesight)


[+5 Legendary Bonus] {+5 Intrinsic/Maiar Bonus}

*****
Main Character Sheet



-Name: Jhaevala Fospída
-High Fantasy Race: Draenei Demon/Maiar
-Gender: Female
-Age: Millenary--time and age are things different and nigh-irrelevant in the Aetherius--far more so for Maiar Spirits
-Physique: Slender and fit, she is strong of body yet retains a graceful and beautiful appearance as well. The trademark horns, facial appendages (if smaller than her father's), and hooves instead of feet are still in evidence
-Personality: Pragmatic and cunning when necessary, Jhaevala is unlike her father in many ways. To invoke Change, one must be willing to do anything and have the strength of will to accomplish it. Not as naive in some ways, nor as wise in many others. More prone to militant responses rather than diplomatic due to the ongoing fight against darkness. Yet, she always means well ultimately and strives to be Good at her core, like her father
-Occupation: Maiar Protector/Adventurer
-Weapons: Highsteel swords, a Bloodsteel Tekagi-shuko, and a small Silvercloth bag of High Crystal marble-like balls
-Armor: Darksteel plate pauldrons, vambraces, tasset and greaves, Leather-velvet chestpiece, black Leather cuisses
-Mount/Pet: N/A
-Homeplace: The Aetherius
-Bio:

As a white flame coalesced into her new physical form in The Orbeis, the Mortal World, Jhaevala quickly found herself far more uncertain of her surroundings. Like her father, Aztallus, they knew not how they came to suddenly cross over realms.
He insisted it was due to the intensity of the magical clashes of the Age in some fashion, but she wasn't entirely confident. Perhaps they were pulled deliberately, somehow?

Ignoring his call to ward off such paranoia, she set off and away from the Sundered Peaks of Romara into their gradual southern trajectory, more a design of coincidence and circumstance rather than any plan. They knew not enough of this mortal world besides basic facts as they progressed, though every time they got some…they paused to absorb as much information as possible.

As one more aligned with her mother's spiritual ancestry than her father's, Jhaevala is a Maiar Spirit of Change--a Telchar. By this, her mind and personality showed as she was more cautious and realistic in her outlook, sometimes even a little rough with those around her depending on what was going on.

This caused frequent ideological clashes between parent and child, though it was never to the point of a fissure.

In her mind, as she rapidly gained what knowledge of the world she could through any places they came across, books they grasped, etc…she realized one had to be cunning and strong to survive here.

She was intent to do so, while indulging in her idle curiosities of the mortal world and all it had to offer. One of the first ideas that popped into her head was to make any potential enemies overconfident when facing her, to make them perceive a falsehood.

And thus came the eyepatch…it was a training tool to make her eyesight and her own perception even greater while having others remain unaware that she still possessed both eyes--and the most cunning of visions.

A mix of grim determination and exultant ambition are upon her face as she gazes upon the looming Teln Mountains.


-Class: Cross-class Rogue Nightblade
-Titanium Skills: Dual, Stealth, Arcane; {Restoration}
-Skills:

Fishing (3); Hunting (3);

Climbing (2); Swimming (2);

Writing/Speech (3);
Arts: Music/Singing (1), Barding/Acting (1), Poetry/Literature (1), Dancing (1), Sculpting (1);

Strategy (2), Logistics (3), Siege (1);

Stealth (3), Spycraft (3);

Hand to Hand (3); Throwing (2);

[Dual (5)];

Arcane (4) (Bending, Warding, Cloning, Fusing/Becoming)
Alteration (3) (Telekinesis/Kinetics, Sizing, Shielding)
Mysticism (1) (Rebounding)
Restoration (5) (Medicine, Restoring, Healing, Buffing, Regeneration)}
Illusion (1) (Movement (Muffled/Shadows/Fast))
Conjuration (3) (Conjuring, Phasing/Apparating/Teleporting, Banishing)
Spirit (1) (Willpower)
Vision (2) (Arcane, Truesight)


[+5 Legendary Bonus] {+5 Intrinsic/Maiar Bonus}

 

GM Approved


Main Character Sheet
-Name/Alias(es): Velaria Nu'vae/ Velaria of the Woods/ Druid of the North/ (Ve)
-High Fantasy Race: Nature Spirit-Faun


-Gender: Female
-Age: appears to be 16, but is really a 1600 years old.
-Physique: depending on her mood, or the circumstances, she either looks like a human Edetani female with long
red/brownish hair, a Faun (Half Human/Fawn like a Centaur), or a mix of the two (2 legged version).
She is well toned, athletic, slimly built and horned in whatever form she is in
-Personality: She has a very bubbly, cheerful and bright happy personality. Even though she knows there is
cruelty in the world, she prefers to look for the better aspects of people and creatures.
The animals seem to enjoy her company, and she theirs. She is almost childlike in some ways. Acts of cruelty
will draw out the darker aspects of herself, and as she is fond of saying, she will let 'nature take its course.'
-Occupation: Velaria is a Druid and a Healer, a Speaker of the Woods
-Weapons: Magic Wood staff, 2 Magic Crystalstone daggers, a large Magic Crystalstone/Wood mace, and a Root
Magicweave net
-Armor: Mithrilweave dress with Bronze belt and ornaments when casting, Mithril chainmail fitted undershirt and
leggings with reinforced Leather protections when fighting
-Mount/Pet: A large Greatfalcon, Kiki
-Homeplace: Northrond Wood, Northerond
-Bio:
Velaria, or as Torin (and a few close friends call her, 'Ve') is a true child of the forest. Born in the depths
of Northrond Wood, she enjoyed her youth romping with her Faun clan. But as she grew older, she felt the
calling to become something more. So she left her clan, to seek out their famed Beorning neighbors, the
Beornheim Druids. When she found them, deep in the Herdwilde Valley, they did not take her want to study
seriously at first, until they recognized that she did indeed posess quite a strong affinity and aptitude for
their magics, so they took her as a student, even if not all those there weren't quite as welcoming. So Velaria
studied hard, feeling ever closer to the woods than she did before, but she also found herself adjusting her
studies, to better suit her needs, which did not go altogether well with some of her fellow students. She was
seen as a bit of a rebel, of sorts, by many of them, and she wasn't alone--Bors, the Aetheling (Prince) of
Beornheim, always considered her to be among his few, dear friends.

It was about two years after she had started her studies, when she found a young colt shivering, standing on
the path she was moving along. When she moved to comfort it, it moved away, and looked behind it, as if asking
her to follow. So she followed. It took her off the path she had been on, going deep into the darker woods of
pal Forest. When she reached a tiny clearing, she found the colt, laying next to a very unconscious-looking
Elf in the middle of what looked like a slaughter. A dark creature, something she had never seen before, lay
nearby, very dead. Velaria carefully crept forward, as she reached out with the Senses of The Green. The Elf
was alive, but direly hurt. The black foal refused to leave the man. Velaria moved close, and turned the Elf
over, and was instantly surprised.

She had never seen an Elf with a beard before! He was so different. It intrigued her beyond repair. She decided
to help, mostly due to the foal refusing to leave his side. So she took them both, away from the slaughter,
carefully collecting his weapon, before transporting them both to another area, where she felt safe enough to
set up a small camp. She set up camp, and tended to the both of them, studying the strange Elf carefully as she
did. It was two days before the Elf finally regained consciousness. She was well aware of him staring at her,
while she had been feeding the colt, as she was in her normal Faun shape.

"Forgive me M'lady, I was deciding whether You were real or not." he explained. She laughed. She later found
that his name was Torin, and he was what the humans called a Ranger. She found that he had been tracking that
strange creature, which had caused much damage where he had come from, and found that he travelled many places, something Velaria had always wished to do herself. She also found out that he had rescued the black colt, which is why the not-so small animal had shown such devotion towards him. She found it charming. It was a young
Mearas, a High Horse of old. He found a scarf in his pack, and offered it to her as thanks--Velaria thought it
was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and joyfully accepted it. He offered to walk her wherever it was
she was heading. But as they did, Velaria was having her own thoughts. As they reached the Herdwilde Valley,
she changed to her human form. Torin, said nothing. When Velaria saw one of her Beorning instructors, she ran
forward, to let him know what she had discovered, when the look he gave her stopped her in her tracks.

Her teacher began to yell and scream at her--for what she did not quite comprehend at first--something about
irresponsibility and missing chores. CHORES?? Her eyes went wide, and she was about to say something, when
Torin suddenly stepped up and belted the tall Bearman, who went down swiftly.

Velaria's eyes couldn't get any bigger. Torin did slowly looked at her:

"Do you want to stay here?" he asked her quietly. It was irresponsible, indeed. Thrilling. Unexpected. She
looked back at Torin,

"No." was her answer.

They, as one, have been travelling together ever since. She helped him train the colt, now, his mighty
warhorse named Byron, as they trod, wandering the world. For Velaria feels that she's doing the good work of
the Green Father, and having an adventure at the same time. Recently, Torin in turn gifted her with a young
Greatfalcon, whom she has named 'Kiki', who by her care has quickly grown into a most noble and true creature.
-Class: Druidic Spirit
-Titanium Skills: Druidic, Restoration, Dual; {Primal-Root}
-Skills:
Fishing (2); Agriculture (3);
Climbing (2); Swimming (2);
Construction (2);
Arts: Music/Singing (1), Dancing (1), Astronomy (1), History/Heraldry (1);
Stealth (3);
Throwing (2); Riding (3);
Two-Handed (4); Dual (5);

Mysticism (2) - (Rebounding, Absorbing)
{Primal (Root) (5) - (Bending, Warding, Shaping, Elementals, Movement)}
Enchanting (1) - (Shielding)
Illusion (2) - (Movement (Muffled/Shadows/Fast), Weaving)
[Restoration (5) - (Medicine, Restoring, Healing, Buffing, Regeneration)]
Conjuration (2) - (Conjuring, Phasing/Apparating/Teleporting)
Sight (3) - (Telepathy, Projected Telepathy, Seeing the Present & the Past (through Root, Animals and Creatures))
Druidic (4) - (Medicine, Animal Sight, Animal Mastery/Control, Shapeshifting & Fusion/Wargs)
Spirit (1) - (Willpower)
Vision (3) - (Night, Life, Truesight)
[+5 Legendary Bonus] {+5 Intrinsic/Nature Spirit Bonus} (=60 total)




Main Character Sheet
-Name/Alias(es): Torin Val'alorian Tredor, Torin Woodstryder/ Darkwood
-High Fantasy Race: an Eldori Dragon Aspect that chooses to pass as a Wood Elf

-Gender: Male
-Age: looks around 25, though he is in fact 2500 years old--he was born in the Third Age
-Physique: Elven-eared Torin is a mass of muscles. His skin is tanned for he has spent most of his lifetime
outdoors, his face and skin shows tribal markings. Long dark brown hair, pulled back into a low ponytail with
some hair gracing the front of his face. Also unusual, is the fact he sports a beard.
-Personality: While he can certainly appreciate the fine things in life, he has chosen to live in the woods.
But this does not mean he lacks certain 'decorum.' A quiet and solitary being, until he met Velaria; She seems
to bring out a more tolerant side. He has a keen interest in all things magical, and in keeping Velaria happy.
So anything that impeeds on either subject, is rather swift to bring forth his terrible wrath.
-Occupation: Protector to Velaria, and a Listener of Whispers
-Weapons: runed Magicwood bow with Silver & Steel arrows, runed Highsteel longsword, 3 runed Ebony Silvertipped throwspears, 3 runed Ebony Silvercoated daggers
-Armor: of reinforced & padded Leather and Fur, Mithril undershirt and leggings, with an Elvencloth darkgreen
hooded cape (when in Dragon Form, his skin is Dragonscale)
-Mount/Pet: huge clydesdale charger named 'Byron', his black Mearas warhourse. He's well trained and extremely
loyal to Torin
-Homeplace: Lake Ellumindan, Doras
-Bio:
Being an Elf, Torin is quite at home in the woods, nonetheless being a traveler has showed him the finer things
of life as well. He had seen so many others of his ilk, the Great Dragon Aspects, simply 'lay back' and do
nothing in his view to either change or repair what was going wrong in the world, many passing onto Maradan,
thus he decided that he could not simply sit back and do nothing. The life of a Ranger seemed to suit him
perfectly. He answered to few, sometimes, moved about as he wished, and did not have to deal with the crushing
hordes of humanity and other races with their festering towns and large cities.

Now of course--he did appreciate a good mead, and fine food and drink now and then, but in well-smaller
settings. The stench and rudeness he felt within the major cities of men were enough to make him want to keep
his distance most of the time. But it had been during that time, when he had been tracking a particularly
horrid Leshen that had been terrorizing some borderland townships, that he'd tracked it into Opal Forest in NE
Northerond and managed to fell it,but not before it had inflicted serious damage to him as well. And there it
was he met Velaria.

A fabled being he had only heard about before laying eyes on her. She was all light, bubbly, and carefree?
And she was magic. She practically shined in the darkness, even if she did not know it herself, but his eyes
missed little. She had not been afraid of him, and had healed him in turn without ever asking for anything in
return. Of course the fact that Byron had stayed with him might have had something to do with that--he never
asked her. He just knew that, within all the dark he had seen lately, here was still something bright and
shiny, Good and Worthy to be found in this world. And so blasted innocent that it nearly hurt! How could she
not notice that?

And when that bearman had yelled at her, he could not bear it, so he struck the fool down. And it had felt GOOD
Right then, he decided he would become her protector, whether she wanted it or not--he wanted Her Light to
shine brightly, for if it did, then there was still something in the world worth fighting for. And it was worth
it. A partner with whom he may finally begin the Guardianship of this nearly-broken world.
-Class: Rogue-Ranger/Dragon Aspect
-Titanium Skills: Stealth/Spycraft, Archery, One-Handed; {Primal-Water}
-Skills:
Fishing (1); Hunting (3);
Climbing (1); Swimming (2);
Tanning (2), Blacksmithing (1);
Arts: Music/Singing (1), Astronomy (1);
Strategy (1), Logistics (1);
Stealth (3), Spycraft (3);
Hand to Hand (3); Throwing (2);
Riding (2), Mounted Archery (2);
One-Handed (5); Archery (5);

Primal (Water) (4) - (Bending, Warding, Shaping, Elementals)
Mysticism (3) - (Rebounding, Absorbing, Negating)
Restoration (3) - (Restoring, Healing, Regeneration)
Illusion (2) - (Movement (Muffled/Shadows/Fast), Weaving)
Druidic (3) - (Medicine, Animal Mastery/Control, Shapeshifting)
Sight (2) - (Telepathy, Seeing the Present (through Water))
Spirit (2) - (Willpower, Breaking)
Vision (2) - (Spirit, Truesight)
[+5 Legendary Bonus] {+5 Instrinsic Dragon Aspect Bonus}

 

-Name: Anastrianna Evendur
-High Fantasy Race: Moriquendi
-Gender: Female
-Age: 500 years
-Physique:
http://img04.deviantart.net/e59a/i/2016/064/0/3/yennefer_of_vengerberg_by_geirahod-d9u216i.jpg
http://wallup.net/wp-content/upload...e_Witcher-Yennefer_of_Vengerberg-748x1104.jpg
-Personality: She is an avid bookworm, a student of diplomacy, she loves debating politics, and feels a deep, spiritual connection to her faith. She sees anything evil as a bane to all things good and pure, so she has no qualms about waltzing into a bedroom and slaying anything evil, even infants.
She has a warped sense of humor, holds everyone to the same high standard she holds herself to (or tries to anyway), and is a good and kind friend.
Her character flaws are that she sees the world in black and white, and will not grant mercy to any enemy, unless they can plead their case, and even then she has a hard time relenting.
She is also a slight introvert and it takes a little while before she approaches people in social settings.
-Occupation: Traveling Witcher
-Weapons: gilded Silver sword, runed Steel sword, Ebony arbalest with Silver & Steel bolts
-Armor: black hardened Leather armor with Mithril undermesh, black Leather gloves & longboots, black Elvencloth hooded longcape
-Mount/Pet: black arabian mare
-Homeplace: The Silverwood, but she and hers lived in Trey when she was a child
-Bio: Anastrianna comes from a long line of minor nobility and diplomats.
When she was a teenage Elf, a witch coven tried to burn Trey to the ground, but they failed at killing off the Elven religious and political houeholds-yet they succeeded with many a Kender commoner home.
She ever wished to avenge those who could not protect themselves, so when she was a young Elven maiden, she valiantly set off for the tower of Greyrock--The Witcher Keep (NW Aronbor), where,
after surviving The Trial of The Grasses, she was accepted and fully trained as a Wicher of the School of The Wolf
She has been a renowned Witcher for over 200 years

-Class: Witcher
-Titanium Skills: One Handed, Hunting, Governance/Diplomacy; {Alchemy}
-Skills:

Fishing (1); Hunting (3); Medicine (3); Mining (1);

Climbing (1); Swimming (1);

Tanning (2), Blacksmithing (1);

Writing/Speech (3), Accounting/Trading (2), Law/Taxes/Minting (1), Administration/Commerce (1), Governance/Diplomacy (3);

Art: Poetry/Literature (1), Painting (1), Astronomy (1), History/Heraldry (1), Theology (1);

Stealth (2), Crime (2), Spycraft (2);

Hand to Hand (3); Arbalesting (3); Riding (2)

One-Handed (5);

Alteration (1) (Aard Sign: Kinetics)
Mysticism (1) (Quen Sign: Glyphs (Shielding, Warding); Yrden Sign: Glyphs (Buffing/Hexing))
Primal (Fire) (1) (Igni Sign: Bending)
Illusion (1) (Axii Sign: Control (Inspire/Fear, Rapture/Confusion, Persuasion/Domination))
Restoration (1) (Regeneration)
Alchemy (3) (Science, Procurement/Keeping, Brewing (potions, poisons, oils; various Effects))

{+5 Intrinsic Witcher Bonus}

 

​

~~~ Greetings yet again, fellow Roleplayers ~~~​

​

Seeing as we are at the gateway of our start,​

​

I Joyfully present you with our Player Roster:​

​

​

​

Jsmith24 playing as Bren Rosk, an Apostate Battlemage​

​

galactic-vagabond422 as Rebecca Dragon, a Dragonblood Warrioresse​

​

greyjedi125 as Valin Barsylar, a Spellsword Healer​

​

Darth_Elu as Aztallus and Jhaevala Fospída, both Draenei Demons/Maiar Protectors​

​

Ktala as Velaria, a Druidic Spirit, and Torin, a Dragon Aspect​

​

Nehru_Amidala as Anastrianna Evendur, a Famed Witcher​

​

Darth Osnil as Orank Utoizon, a Rebelmage Headmaster, and His Daughters​

​

Moonspun Dragon as Lock, a Nightblade Beastmistress​

​

Jax Nova as Thudpaw, a Warg-Lycan Tracker for-hire, and Calypso, his Harpy Huntress companion​

​

spacelady as a rather mysterious Agent...​

​

A Blind Prophet --our newest Potential, keen on Draugwath (Werewolves)​

​

​

​

Welcome One, Welcome All!!​

​

Interested in joining? We always Welcome new players!​

​

~ Starting Soon ~​

​

​

@Jsmith24 @galactic-vagabond422 @greyjedi125 @Darth_Elu @Ktala @Nehru_Amidala @Darth Osnil @Moonspun Dragon @Jax Nova @spacelady​

 

~~~Please refer to our Character Creation/OOC thread for Welcome Post

http://boards.theforce.net/threads/wotann-valannora-character-creation-thread.50044032/page-2

 

GM approved



-Name/Alias: Thudpaw/'Ancalagon'
-High Fantasy Race: a Worg-Lycanthrope, the first of his kind
-Gender: Male
-Age: 23
-Physique: Smaller than most Worgs except for his paws which are average sized--this tends to make them look out of proportion with the rest of his body.
Thudpaw is black as night with piercing ice blue eyes and looks like he is part Direwolf
http://payload84.cargocollective.com/1/5/186185/3991030/WARG_V1a_BM_905.jpg
http://pre09.deviantart.net/2396/th/pre/f/2012/184/0/7/072a000f9e93ff5d98407438aa6a77cd-d55w8m5.png (reference image, replace red eyes for ice blue)
http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net...nthrope.JPG/revision/latest?cb=20120623023219 (his Lycan/humanoid form)
-Personality: Thudpaw is quiet and calculating, yet eager and ambitious. A combination that often leads people to underestimate him until he acts, leaving them in surprise as they fall.
He can talk as men do--a trait unheard of for all beast-like Worgs
-Occupation: Tracker for hire
-Weapons: he utilizes his large Steel-like paws and sharp teeth in battle, wears armored Steel gauntlets & sabatons with razor sharp knife blades covering each claw on his four feet, making his feet look even larger than they already do
-Armor: He prefers black light Leather armor that leaves him more mobile and less restricted
-Companion: Calypso
-Homeplace: He was born to a nomadic Worg pack and has been a nomad his entire life
-Bio: When Thudpaw was born he was small. Too small. Calling him the 'runt' of the litter would have been generous.
Severe accusations were thrown around that he was a half wolf instead of a full Worg, and that his mother had cheated on her mate with a Direwolf.
The accusations gained traction as Thudpaw grew and developed a wolflike appearance.
His mother, ashamed of him and of what all the others thought, abandoned him when he was only six months old.
Thudpaw managed to find a cave to hide in, and it was there that he met another orphan by the name of Calypso, a small and rather strange three year old winged girl who had apparently been abandoned by her own parents as well.
Together, the two survived the harsh winter and came into spring as strong young warriors ready to take on the world... or so they thought.
They began finding work as trackers but soon found themselves in the clutches of an evil Elf named Normyl (pronounced Noo-er-Me-ell) who enslaved them and forced them to track for free as he hunted down all manner of "Creatures"--as he called them.
Normyl believed Elves were far superior to the other races and sought to hunt all others into extinction, starting with the most "animal-like" of the races.
It was then that Thudpaw was reunited with his family by fate, unknowingly tracking them down for Normyl so the Elf could slaughter them. Thudpaw had no idea who he was tracking until he caught up with the pack which was on the run,
knowing they were being followed. In desperation, the pack gave up running and readied to fight, certain that some masterful tracker of great proportions was upon their trail.
It was a shock to everyone when they saw Thudpaw approach, and a shock to him as well when he saw it was his family he was tracking.
His family expected him to help once they realized it was him, but a single harsh word from one of his old clan set him off and he leaped straight into the fray, killing nine of them single handedly before Normyl and his men even got into the fight.
He swore, from that day on, no one who called him "Wolf-Worg" would ever live to repeat that mistake. The 'nickname' his kin had given him had a deep-seeded bitterness attached to it from his abandonment.
After this point, Calypso and Thudpaw sought to escape Normyl's clutches, but the Elf was training them well, so they bided their time,
until they had learned all he had to teach them. Then... in the darkness of night, they slipped away to never be seen again.
Now they wander the lands as a duo of expert trackers for hire.
He did not know that fate, instead of cursing him, had greatly blessed him instead...
His father had been bitten by a Vampire and had miraculously survived, and few knew of this as his father never presented vampirelike abilities--but Thudpaw did inherit them,
turning him into an unnatural Worg-Lycanthrope that did not know how it was he spoke the language of men, much less that he could turn into a Lycan/humanoid form--It was Normyl who discovered this,
so he taught him how to Shapeshift--though Thudpaw rarely chose to. Normyl called him 'Ancalagon'--"Greatfang"
He is one of a kind

-Class: Worg-Lycanthrope
-Titanium Skills: Hand to Hand, Hunting, Stealth
-Skills:

Fishing (3); Hunting (3); Agriculture (1); Medicine (2);

Climbing (2); Swimming (2);

Tanning (3);

Strategy (1), Logistics (1);

Stealth (2), Crime (2), Spycraft (2), Interrogation/Torture (2);

Hand to Hand (3);

Throwing (1);

{Dual (4);
Alteration (3) (Kinetics, Sizing, Shielding)
Illusion (2) (Movement (Muffled/Shadows/Fast), Occlumency)
Conjuration (1) (Phasing/Apparating/Teleporting)
Druidic (5) (Medicine, Animal Sight, Animal Mastery/Control, Shapeshifting & Fusion/Wargs, Gifting)
Blood (1) (Absorbing/Restoring & Healing/Regeneration)
Spirit (1) (Willpower)
Vision (3) (Night, Blood, Arcane)}

{Worg-Lycanthrope Intrinsic Skills}





-Name: Calypso
-High Fantasy Race: Valkyrie-like Humanoid--a mystery
-Gender: Female
-Age: 23
-Physique: Calypso is an alluring young woman with a figure to match. Her skin is brown, nearly the color of dirt, her hair black as night, falling past her mid back in tight curls.
Lips bright red--and a smile that could lead a foolish young man astray. Her wings are leathery like a Vampire's and the same color as her skin. They are small when she keeps them folded behind her back,
as one standing in front of her could hardly tell she was more than a mere human girl
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/eb/5c/80/eb5c8045b8d7311ffb56df83a7833bc8.jpg
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/6e/75/df/6e75df85c496dd5a9fc0c5998aa4bd19.jpg
http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JJzw5-UdN...zing_shaiya_002_by_anjanaparvathi-d5eo0xi.png (reference images)
-Personality: Calypso is playful, sarcastic, and doesn't shy away from what might seem like seductive actions. She is quite adept at getting what she wants, one way or another.
Calypso, however, is much more "bound by morals" than her demeanor would suggest--and more so than Thudpaw, her companion
-Occupation: Huntress for hire
-Weapons: A finely crafted Ebony recurve bow with arrows to match. The black bow is engraved with golden rune markings, and the arrows are Silver tipped.
She also carries a Silver shortsword.
-Armor: Calypso wears a light Iron fitted mail suit with black light Leather armor on top
-Companion: Thudpaw
-Homeplace: Unknown
-Bio: Calypso was born to a cave... at least as far as she knows. She never knew her parents, or whether she even had any.
When she was born she found herself in a cave and, by some miracle she seemed equipped enough to take care of herself.
One day, she awoke and glided from the ceiling to land gracefully on the cave floor. No sooner did she land than she heard ominous footsteps,
coming her way in the darkness. The footsteps sounded like those of a large creature but, as the bearer of these footsteps came into view,
she saw only a small wolf-like pup. She appraoached the pup, who suddenly called himself Thudpaw, and the two since struck up a camaraderie.
Together, the two survived the harsh winter and came into spring as strong young warriors ready to take on the world... or so they thought.
They began finding work as trackers, but soon found themselves in the clutches of an evil Elf named Normyl, who enslaved them and forced them to track for free as he hunted down all manner of "Creatures" as he called them.
Normyl believed Elves to be far superior to the other races so sought to hunt them all down into extinction, starting with the most "animal-like" of them.
Some time after Thudpaw's fateful encounter with his family, Calypso found friendship with one of Normyl's men that soon lead to something more.
Thudpaw warned her about the man but, she was "lost in love" as it were. Fortunately she saw the man for what he was before anything developed between them beyond what some might call "puppy love."
After walking in on him as he conversed with Normyl and overhearing that the man's relationship with her was ordered by Normyl as a 'tactic' to ensure Calypso and Thudpaw remained with their group,
she immediately grew cold to such feelings. She swore to never love again and since treats such things as games. It was after this point that Calypso and Thudpaw sought to escape Normyl's clutches,
but the Elf was training them well, so they bided their time until they had learned all he had to teach them. Then...
in the darkness of night, they slipped away to never be seen again. Now they wander the lands as a duo of expert tracker hunters for hire

-Class: Huntress
-Titanium Skills: Archery, Hunting, Stealth
-Skills:

Fishing (2); Hunting (3);

Climbing (1); Swimming (1);

Construction (1);

Writing/Speech (2), Accounting/Trading (1);

Art: Music/Singing (1), Barding/Acting (1), Dancing (1);

Strategy (2), Logistics (2);

Stealth (3), Crime (2), Spycraft (2), Interrogation/Torture (1), Assassination (2);

Hand to Hand (3); Throwing (2);

One-Handed (4);

Archery (5);

Primal (Wind) (2) (Bending, Warding)
Alteration (1) (Shielding)
Mysticism (1) (Rebounding)
Restoration (2) (Medicine, Regeneration)
Spirit (1) (Willpower)
Vision (1) (Life)

 

~Master galactic-vagabond422 now lustfully comes, as a mighty Warrior doth, to break open the doors of Vaniya's world for your reading pleasure (most certainly mine) as our first Player Teaser:

 

The Dragon​

Horns sound in the distance and two children hold each other close. They are huddled together in the small cellar, put there by their parents, fear in their eyes. The sister sobbed, the younger of the pair, her older brother tried to calm her but to no avail. The raiders of Idrez had returned, to pillage the town once again. The young ones didn't know how many times this made, all they knew was that their parents were afraid, so they were afraid.

The sister whimpered into her brother's shoulder as the horns grew closer. "It'll be alright." He said weakly gripping her simple dress. "The Verdant Guard will come. They will save us." He didn't know if they would come, the mysterious wandering Knight that protected the scattered remains of the land once called Amburria. "They will come, the towering knight, clad in steel, their sword will banish evil, their arm will protect the weak, and you will know them by their cape. Jewel green and simmering in the light it conceals those in need." He recited the words as if they were an incantation, that by speaking them with fervor a savior would appear. The horns blow again even louder.

Outside the hut at the edge of town, a Huscarl stood at the head of a raiding party of Landsmen. They had attacked this town before, and they would again. Each moon they would strike, taking what they could, and killing any that resisted. These people were weak, and scattered, which was good, made the Huscarl's job easy. The horns blew again giving final warning to the hamlet, to leave, or cower in fear. Entering the village, three men block his path, clad in simple leather armor and wielding sharpened sticks. It was pitiful.

With a chuckle he swung his axe, cleaving one of the men nearly in two, his meager weapon barely enough to bruise the raider, the others defenders that stood against him perished just a quickly. The others fanned out across the area breaking into houses and taking whatever they could carry. Screams of men, women, and children fill the air. However one shout rings out above the others, it's one of the Idrez. The Huscarl rushed over to see who it was, who had the spine to stand up to his men.

The others in the party rush towards the sound. More death cries rang out as they approached. The Huscarl felt his heart begin to pound. He didn’t expect there to be a true fight. Now it seemed there would be and he could feel that familiar fire brewing in his chest. He wrung his hands over his axe anticipation growing inside him.

Rounding a corner he heard another one of his men be slain. When he finally set his eyes on the slayer of his party, his heart beat faster, and his hands gripped even tighter to his weapon. They were a tall warrior dressed in full plate, with green cape about their shoulders. They turned to face the raid leader, their eyes full of fire, their blade dripping with blood.

It was a long blade, hand and half as some called, now stained red by the lifeforce falling from its edge. The Huscarl felt a little fear enter him, soon burnt away by the fire of battle burning bright in his chest. He knew who he was facing there could be no doubt. A warrior with shoulders as wide as a longship, and eyes burning with blood lust. Their blade constantly drips with the blood of the freshly killed.

"Crimson Blade!" he called out, "I am Huscarl Thormothr Skjoldsson," Thormothr slammed the flat of his two handed axe against his chest. "And your blood with grace the my blade, your head will be mine as a prize. I will hang it from my axe, showing all that I have fell the living monster of the Udodvalde."

At this utterance, the speaking of what this land had become the steel clad fighter rushed towards the boasting man, sword held close to their shoulder.

Rebecca’s blood wasn’t just burning, it was on fire, a conflagration in her veins. She had already slain three men and now another presented himself to her slaughter. She gave no words in reply to his challenge, to his promise to take her head as a trophy. Thought she could see an ember in his eyes, it was nothing like the inferno contained in her striking blue orbs.

Her sword, slicked in blood clashed against the shaft of the Huscarl’s axe. The proud raider was on the back foot, but, smiling all the same. The vibrations of the impact rattled Rebecca’s very soul, sending waves of thrill throughout her body. With a long stride Thormothr stepped back and swung his heavy axe. Rebecca gave no quarter, lunging forward into the attack. The blunt wooden shaft stuck at her shoulder with a resounding crack, and she was not moved. Her blade did not rise to skewer the man through the head but lower. The point of her sword drove though the armor and into his hip, dislocating his joint with a wet pop that made Rebecca’s blood sing.

As quickly as the fight had started it was over, Thormothr fell to a knee crying out in pain. The other Landsmen stood back, stunned at seeing their leader fall so swiftly. ‘Crimson Blade’ stood behind the fallen raider a smile stitched into her face, blood raging in her arm as she brought her blade down in a mighty swing.

The once proud Huscarl’s head was cleaved from his shoulders in a single stroke, rolling lazily along the ground, ending face up, eyes dead, staring up from the feet of one of the others that had accompanied him.

The warrior with the long blade passed her gauntlet over her face smearing still warm blood over it. Rebecca’s breath hitched in her throat, and her eyes were wide, feeling the euphoria of a challenge rush through her curling her toes and tightening her muscles. A longing gasp left her chest as she set her sights on the remaining raiders. Their knees were shaking, fear in their eyes.

Her teeth shined in the afternoon sunlight like the fangs of a beast. She charged forward mind almost fully given over to the blood that set her skin on fire. Several of the Landsmen broke, fleeing back where they came from, others were just frozen where they stood. Those that did not flee were cut down without mercy, or care, their blood mingling with their leader’s on Rebecca’s bastard sword.

The two children hold each other tighter, hearing heavy footsteps approaching their hiding place. They were old enough to know that these were not the footfalls of their mother or father, the rattle of armor told them that a warrior neared them.

The brother tried to quiet his sister’s whimpers,

"...towering knight, clad in steel, their sword will banish evil, their arm will protect the weak…" he whispered to himself, tears stinging his eyes.

The footsteps draw closer, now shaking the door that leads to the children’s refuge.

"...you will know them by their cape. Jewel green and simmering in the light it conceals those in…" The boy’s prayer was stopped by the latch to the cellar opening. The door was flung open and the pair let out a yelp fearing the worse. Their little eyes looked to the small doorway. They squint against the harsh daylight that silhouettes their savior, or their murderer. As their eyes adjust they see blood stained sabatons, a cuirass flecked with drops of crimson, and a face covered in dark gore. They towered over them, covered head to toe in darkened steel, around their shoulders a green cape the ruffled slightly in the wind.

The boy’s mouth hangs open, "Are...are you…" his voice was weak, fearful as he looked up into the face of the warrior, "the Verdant Guard?" The figure said nothing, merely turned away with a swish of their cape and walked out the door, leaving footprints of red in their wake.

TAG: Jedi Battlemaster Drallig (all others)

 

The Magic of Blood, a Power most terrible, wielded by a most select few--here's a fine Piece by Jsmith24 presenting Bren Rosk as our Chronicle's second Player Teaser, enjoy:

 

IC: Bren Rosk

"Another." shouted Bren to the innkeep in the 'city' of Deldras, holding his empty mug aloft. The innkeep, a large jolly-looking fellow, came over to collect the mug and asked "Anything else master..." his voice tapered off "Rosk," Bren replied loudly "in fact--how about a round for everyone in here, huh" the innkeep, more than happy with the coin presented to him went about the business of filling up the mugs; Bren began drinking his beer thinking "Whoever is following me is bound to make a move tonight; put on a big enough show of having too good of a time and amateurs always take the bait." Resigning himself to completing his ruse he chugged what was left of his drink and kept going. This continued for a couple more hours until Bren tired of waiting, and sure enough-- everyone in that inn knew his name stumbled out the front door.

No sooner had the door swung shut behind him he began to get to work using his magic to cleanse his blood of the alcohol. He went from nearly drunk to sober in no time flat, full faculties restored he teleported to the roof of the inn, cloaked himself in a shadow illusion just in case, and waited, to see what was going to play out. While waiting he couldn't help but wonder who he pissed off this time. The list was long--he had made many more enemies in his day than friends, though most were smart enough to leave it be; some idiots, and some who wielded actual power had sent people after his life before, this was not the first time, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last. His thoughts were interrupted by a man walking quickly out of the inn not 2 minutes after he had left. "Interesting," Bren thought "At least they were smart enough to not scout me closely." And sure enough a short time later two armed men returned to the inn and began searching the nearby area. Deciding it wasn't worth the time to question them and find out who sent them, Bren opted for the direct approach, their corpses should be enough to dissuade whoever sent them, and if not he always enjoyed a fight anyway.

Swooping towards the men as a silent mass of shadow he was sure this would be easy enough until one of the men shouted "He's here," The element of surprise ruined, Bren materialized facing the two men staff in hand. "I hope you two realize..." abruptly he was cut off by the men charging at him. Smiling slightly he allowed them to get close enough to strike, and when they did both their swords were repulsed by his shielding magic. Done playing games with these simple sell-swords, he slammed his staff into the ground before they could attack again and both were knocked to the ground, as they struggled to rise against his magic holding them down; Bren quickly used his blood magic to fully drain their bodies of it, forming a large sphere over them. As he held it aloft, he walked over to it; he touched with his hand, magically absorbing what he needed to replenish his strength, then letting the sphere break, covering their bodies, blood that only seconds before was pumping through their very veins. Satisfied with his activities for the night, Bren pulled up the hood on his cloak and walked off to find better lodging for the night, "Preferably at a different inn" he mused.

Tag: All

 

It is with Great Joy that I now present thee our third Player Teaser by the Craft of Master greyjedi125 En Guarde!

 

For your reading pleasure....

*******

The rain had been pouring down for days in these parts with darkening vehemence, it made one wonder if there would be no end until the world was drowned by it.

He’d almost missed the fading prints in the pouring rain.

But he did not, so he followed them and shortly, spied them at a distance. The rain had now turned the terrain into a dark morass, which made tracking all but impossible, but he had them in his sights now. There were three mirkesh slavers, two on foot, with one Worg rider. The humans they had with them were also on foot. The woman sobbed miserably as she shambled along, only to receive a lash that would make her cry-out now and again. She was chained to a boy, who was numb of spirit, his head bowed in resignation, even as he dragged the chained form of a man, who could only be his father. The elder man was either lifeless or unconscious, yet remained chained, dragged by the struggling boy.

The relentless rain poured down without a care, soaking them all. Indifferent to plight or intent.

The small band was heading south. Where had they come from? Did the Mirkeshi slavers travel too far north and happened upon the family somewhere by the Briel River? Or were they travelers who had gotten lost in the storm? There was no way to know for sure. Truth was, the details were not as significant as his vow. Not in this moment.

Valin was undaunted in his resolve, his jaw set and eyes glinting with purpose, as he spurred Arthax on, to head off the slavers as they neared the outermost edge of the Silverwood.

Moments later, it was there that the worg rider heard a neighing which immediately caught his mount's attention. Not bad for a Mirkeshi scout. The worg rider, who was likely the leader, barked orders to the two slavers on foot, indicating that they should keep going. In response, more lashes were given to the slaves.

What the worg rider saw, made him pause for a moment. A fine grey steed seemed to have had its reins caught in a thicket and now struggled to free itself. The Mirkeshi scout narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Where was the rider of such a fine mount? Could he be dead? or somewhere close? The scout paced about seeing nothing at first, except for the growing excitement of his worg mount. Oh, to feast on--Mearas flesh! What’s more, the grey steed had saddle bags. Perhaps they were filled with riches!

The temptation was too great for the Mirkeshi. How could he pass this opportunity, which was the only good thing to happen in this miserable rain.

Slowly, he dismounted and ordered his Worg to stay. Once he was certain his order would be followed, he began to move towards the trapped horse.

Some distance away, the chained procession had come to a halt as the woman collapsed from hunger and exhaustion. Her slaver lashed, yelled and cursed her in a tongue she could not possibly understand, but she would not get back up on her feet- and he would not desist in his punishment, despite her wailing cries. The boy only stood there, mute and unmoving-his father’s body all but forgotten.

The second slaver seemed amused at his companion’s difficulty, as he chuckled openly.

--A hand covered his mouth from behind and he felt unspeakable pain wrack his spine, the shroud of unconsciousness claimed him suddenly, and no sound of warning escaped him.

Focused on his task, the first slaver raised his arm once again, to lash at the rebellious woman. Too late did he register the sound of a figure speeding at him, cloak fluttering behind. A streak of incandescent metal flashed before his eyes, and only then did he begin to understand what had befallen him.

The sizzling sound was coming from his amputated elbow. At his feet, his whipping arm lay, spasming and steaming where it had been cut. The slavers eyes bulged in disbelief at the figure standing before him. It was hard to see his face, shadowed by the dripping red hood and cloak- his vision blurring as indescribable pain began to register.

Not very far away, the scout’s greedy imagination began to get the better of him as he neared the grey Mearas. What treasures would he find, he wondered. He then frowned for a moment. How would he get the treasure though? He had no idea how to calm that kind of proudful steed. Perhaps he would kill it, or let his worg eat it. If he untied it, wouldn’t it just run away?

The Mirkeshi scout took a single step closer, and in doing so, saw a blue firelike circle light up around the horse. In a blink of an eye, he was forcibly repulsed backwards by an invisible force, which sent him flying before he landed unceremoniously on his back.

He was relatively unharmed, but had been caught completely by surprise! His momentary shock was replaced by annoyance-that is- until he heard a voice which howled in pain.

A voice he recognized.

It was one of the slavers in his patrol. Something must have happened. Something he was not going to like.

‘The rider!’ he said in his native tongue and cursed himself for a fool. Without hesitation, he ran towards his worg mount and got atop the snarling beast in a single leap. Angry at being tricked, he commanded his worg to run at full speed. Whoever had tricked him would suffer the wrath of a thousand thousand lashes.

The Worg was damnable fast. The Mirkeshi felt the wind mixed with rain buffet him as he leaned in close, holding on and seeking to stay balanced. It was then that he noticed something faster.

The grey steed.

It was racing him, and it was passing him by. Swiftly so.

The scout cursed aloud.

Indeed he had been tricked! Who else but the rider could be responsible for this!

He was angry now, and it galled him that he could not use his sickle sword on the speedier horse. He needed to get closer.

Furiously, he lashed at the worg beneath him. He needed to go faster! faster!

Again, he had been too focused.

There was a bright light which he saw from his peripheral vision as he sped along. He turned his head to see what could have cause it, and was once again caught by surprise.

His mind blanked for a moment- too long a moment. How could this be? A gigantic fireball was streaking his way, leaving a wake of sizzling steam and vaporized rain in its wake. In vain, he tried to jump over it. The fiery sphere detonated on impact, releasing a deafening roar, much like thunder, as scout and worg were engulfed in flames.


--“Maker guide your spirits…” Valin whispered, huffing somewhat. Manipulating the Fire Element during a rainstorm was always more strenuous than he anticipated.

The lone conscious slaver, gritted his teeth from the pain that still engulfed him, but managed to gather what wits he had left and slowly backed away, and after a moment, broke and ran.

The rain continued to pour, uncaring.

Immediately, Valin caused his index finger to glow incandescent and used it to sever the connecting chains which bound the small family. Without wasting time, he righted the boy’s father and played him on his back.

“He’s barely alive….” Valin said. He moved swiftly and with purpose then, raised the man’s head, took one of the vials he carried and helped him to drink. After a moment, the man coughed, reviving.

The boy simply stood, not reacting.

Moving towards the mother, the Half-Elf did what he could to clean her more grievous wounds, then applied a healing salve- after which he plied a series of regenerative spells upon her so her body would quicken the mending process.

As for the boy…

All he could do for now was tend to his corporeal wounds.

Arthax pawed the ground and neighed an alert as two riders approached.

The two riders wore brown cloaks, their hoods up to protect them from the elements. One was a human female and the other a kender male.

“These are in better condition than your last batch.” The woman observed as she dismounted.

“At least they have a relatively better chance at life now.” Valin answered without looking, though he resisted the urge to verbally append a far more sobering thought.

“Take the boy.” he said to the woman, who simply nodded back at him. The kender produced blankets from his saddle bags and wrapped them around each of the freed slaves.

“Better than nothing.” He said, now guiding the woman towards his horse.

“Aye.” Valin agreed, then moved next to the mother.

“You are free from the slavers. You will be taken to the Summerswood, where you can start a new life. Hold fast to life and to hope.”

He offered a weak smile and helped her up.

Turning, he knew it was his duty to restore the elder man, the boy’s father and the woman’s husband, back to health. It would not be easy, but then again, nothing worthwhile ever was.

With care and steady arms, he picked the human male up and placed him atop Arthax, even as he too mounted the mighty steed.

As the greatest of liberators, Artanis-Cuthalion had shown all Elderkind the way, Valin had taken his example to heart.

Freedom is not something one should only hope for, but should be willing to fight for-even die for. There was no greater calling and no cause more noble than this.

 

Now comes Riveting Jax Nova , Fang n' Swift Shafts, to make our Heroes' enemies cry--nay, howl in pain! With Serious Excitement, here's our fourth Player Teaser:

 

GM APPROVED

Character Sheet

-Name/Alias: Lock (whether that's her real name, or an alias, is unknown)
-High Fantasy Race: Morgani (Dark Human)
-Gender: Female
-Age: 17
-Physique: graceful, lithe build (often mistaken for a dancer), long dark brown, nearly black, hair,
bright teal eyes, considered attractive, but nothing that stands out




-Personality: From necessity, she can act tough, but once you have her loyalty and trust, deep down, she'll want to protect you.
In addition, she's more of a loner and, though may act friendly, she doesn't handle relationships well and actively keeps everyone at arm's length
-Occupation: High Overmistress and Assassin
-Weapons: Ebony/Wyrmbone staff & longdagger, Wyrmbone ceremonial shortdagger, Steel/Silver arbalest with Silver & Steel bolts
-Armor: reinforced black Leather armor/protections with Steel undermail, Ebony chestpiece, black Magecloth hooded cape
-Mount/Pet: Delkhâr (Basilisk), Glaurung (Wyrm), Scatha (Seawyrm)
Delkhâr
Glaurung
Scatha
-Homeplace: Stowidge, Mordland
-Bio: Lock is, was, the youngest of five children, born to a noble family. Her father was the Lord of Stowidge.
Her mother had magic, her father didn't. Only Lock and her second oldest brother inherited their mother's affinity.
One day, her father took in a young man as his aid. From the first time ten-year-old Lock met him, something didn't seem right. Her brother, Ellus, agreed with her. However, they couldn't understand why. Their mother was uncomfortable with him, but hid it well.
The young man, Casander, became an asset to her father. He could read and write well, do sums, and correspondence. He was handsome and charming, but he had a horrible temper that he hid well.
And there seemed to be a darkness to him that occasionally shone in his brown-red eyes. It seemed to only come out whenever he looked at Sarenna, Lock's mother.
One night, Lock was woken by what sounded to be a battle downstairs. She crept from her bed towards the noises and flashes of light. When she was halfway down the stairs, she heard shouts, saw another flash of light, then heard a final groan--and something being whispered.
She ran into the main parlor, recognizing the groan as originating from her father. She froze in the doorway, stunned by the scene in front of her.
The room looked as though a pack of wild, rabid lions had torn through it. There was not one surface that had either been torn to pieces, or looked as though it had been burned.
Four bodies occupied the room, only one of which were alive. Her eyes briefly rested on the dead form of Ellus,
then they drifted to Sarenna,
and finally they rested on the form still hunched over her, now dead, her father.
It had been Casander.
Enraged, she attacked the man--the monster. Her magic was strong, but her skill wasn't great. Her mother had only taught her and her brother how to use their magic defensively. Ellus had been more skilled than she.
So, in the end, it was no contest. Casander easily defeated her.
He was just about to deliver the fatal blow, but paused at the last second.
He stared at her for a very long moment. At length, he stepped away from the cowering child, defusing the ball of energy in his hand.
That night, he took Lock, and forced her to become his apprentice.
For a very long time, she resisted, then an idea formed in her mind. She would learn all she could under him,
then use it to destroy him.
She was fifteen when she couldn't stand it any longer. She had become far stronger over the years, learning magic that would make her mother turn in her grave had she known.
Lock didn't use her new skills in magic, but her natural stealth and her new skills with a dagger.
As he was bleeding out, she forced him to tell her why he killed her family.
He told her he murdered her mother because she refused to become his. He murdered her father and siblings because they were in his way.
She demanded to know why he spared her.
He told her it was because she looked too much like her mother, and she had that potential for darkness he knew her mother had lacked. In a way, he 'loved' Lock more than her mother.
Disgusted, Lock twisted her blade deep in his gut and promised herself to hide her magic as she watched the light fade from Casander's bloodshot eyes.
Since that night, Lock became a hired assassin. She took jobs when offered and became quite skilled. However, she never used her magic, except in very rare situations. Her magic ability remains undiscovered to this day.
-Class: Nightblade Beastmaster
-Titanium Skills: Assassination, Alchemy, Dual; {Druidic}
-Skills:
Hunting (3);
Climbing (1); Swimming (1);
Writing/Speech (3), Accounting/Trading (2);
Art: Music/Singing (1), Poetry/Literature (1), Dancing (1), Gastronomy (1), History/Heraldry (1);
Stealth (3), Crime (2), Spycraft (2), Interrogation/Torture (2), Assassination (3);
Hand to Hand (3); Throwing (2); Arbalesting (3); Riding (3)
Two-Handed (1), Dual (5);
Dark/Death (3) (Killing, Decaying, Dark/Deathwarding)
Alchemy (4) (Science, Procurement/Keeping, Brewing (potions poisons, oils; various Effects), Means of Delivery (darts, bombs, etc))
Druidic (4) (Medicine, Animal Sight, Animal Mastery/Control, Fusion)
{+5 Beastmaster Intrinsic Bonus}

 

There was a cold chill to the wind but Thudpaw let it blow through his fur as his blue eyes seemed to ice over with the chill. A grin curved his lips and showed his fangs as his black fur rippled with the air blowing right into his face. He sniffed the air and a low gravely growl lumbered in his throat.

"Five?" a women's voice came from behind the worg.

"Six," Thudpaw replied in a gruff growl, sniffing the wind again.

Calypso stepped up beside the warg. Even in the cold wind she wore light chain mail with her black leather armor over top. Her arms were bare and her suit was form fitting, yet loose enough not to restrict in combat. She held a black ebony bow with a notched arrow, the bow shimmering with golden rune markings.

Calypso closed her eyes and tuned her ears. "A thousand yards and closing," she whispered.

"A little closer," Thudpaw's voice was even softer.

Calypso notched two more arrows and breathed out slowly, her breath steaming into the air like smoke from a chimney as her red lips curled into a grin. "Cocky worg." Her words were an inaudible whisper to anyone but the ears of Thudpaw, who only grinned wider.

Thudpaw could almost feel the steps in the earth as the Draugwath kept coming. He twitched his right ear twice and wrinkled his nose with a twitch.

"I see them," Calypso mouthed the words. She aimed... high. She held steady until the Draugwath stopped. In that split second she released her arrows and sent them spinning through the air. One hit the Draugwath in the head, one hit in his stomach, and the other silver tip pierced his knee cap. "And now, they see us," Calypso added with a grin. At this Thudpaw took off running. Calypso notched arrow after arrow, releasing them into the oncoming Draugwath. Two more fell before Thudpaw tackled a fourth and mauled him. The Draugwath was no push over but Thudpaw's steal claw blades gave him the upper hand.

Calypso could see the two rolling around and hear the snarles. As she jogged up the struggle ended and Thudpaw crawled over the Draugwath body, his fir splattered with blood.

"The last two fled towards the forest," Calypso said, pointing towards the Northerond woods.

"They won't get far," Thudpaw said.

Calypso retrieved her arrows while Thudpaw licked the blood off his fur. "Nope," Calypso agreed. "They looked tired."​