Deadkool
A Sad Remnant of a Forgotten Time
Name:
Age:
Class(Paladin,Rogue,Barbarian, etc.):
Bio:
Equipment:
Race:
Special Abilities:
Weakness:
Appearance:
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Badventurers
- Thread starter Deadkool
- Start date
Name:
Age:
Class(Paladin,Rogue,Barbarian, etc.):
Bio:
Equipment:
Race:
Special Abilities:
Weakness:
Appearance:
eowarion
Wizard Extraordinaire
Ah-ha!
Time to take a stab at this:
Name: Jerron Sirc
Age: 31
Class: Mage/Wizard (whatever you prefer to term it)
Equipment: A wine skin, a large walking stick that doubles as a club, mage robes that smell of booze.
Special Abilities: A superb spellcaster...
Weakness: ...when drunk. When sober, he barely remembers even the most mundane of cantrips, and hungover, he can't use his magic.
Appearance: A human male, roughly 6' tall, of average build and caucasian. He has brown eyes that are often seen bloodshot, with dark bags under them. His brown hair is unkempt, and his facial hair somehow manages to remain looking as though only a week's worth of growth. When drunk, he relies heavily on his walking stick, but when sober, that stick is strapped to his back.
Bio: Having shown an aptitude for magic, and realizing the potential it held in furthering his youthful goals, Jerron joined a mage's guild early in life in an attempt to impress others, make himself feel less weak, and to do something incredible with his life. And for a few years, that seemed to be his path. In his mid-teens, he found himself in a situation involving drinking, several women of loose morals, and many of his "brethren" shouting something that may or may not have been "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"
From there, he spent much of his time drunk from celebrations, festivities, and any other reason he had. Much of his study was spent under the influence, and as such, he can easily recall it while in that same frame of mind, but once sober, he barely remembers the phrases to the most simple of cantrips. His hangovers oft leave him entirely unable to use his magic, and as such, he tries to spend much of his time drunk, or just drunk enough to keep those at bay.
Time to take a stab at this:
Name: Jerron Sirc
Age: 31
Class: Mage/Wizard (whatever you prefer to term it)
Equipment: A wine skin, a large walking stick that doubles as a club, mage robes that smell of booze.
Special Abilities: A superb spellcaster...
Weakness: ...when drunk. When sober, he barely remembers even the most mundane of cantrips, and hungover, he can't use his magic.
Appearance: A human male, roughly 6' tall, of average build and caucasian. He has brown eyes that are often seen bloodshot, with dark bags under them. His brown hair is unkempt, and his facial hair somehow manages to remain looking as though only a week's worth of growth. When drunk, he relies heavily on his walking stick, but when sober, that stick is strapped to his back.
Bio: Having shown an aptitude for magic, and realizing the potential it held in furthering his youthful goals, Jerron joined a mage's guild early in life in an attempt to impress others, make himself feel less weak, and to do something incredible with his life. And for a few years, that seemed to be his path. In his mid-teens, he found himself in a situation involving drinking, several women of loose morals, and many of his "brethren" shouting something that may or may not have been "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"
From there, he spent much of his time drunk from celebrations, festivities, and any other reason he had. Much of his study was spent under the influence, and as such, he can easily recall it while in that same frame of mind, but once sober, he barely remembers the phrases to the most simple of cantrips. His hangovers oft leave him entirely unable to use his magic, and as such, he tries to spend much of his time drunk, or just drunk enough to keep those at bay.
LeviathanL
The Vehicle Destroyer
Tell me if this is allowed
Name: Xedris 'All Bones' Morteo
Age: Centuries, he doesn't even remember himself.
Class: Cleric
Bio: In life, Xedris was a powerful sorcerer who terrorized the lands. His mad quest for power eventually led him to start a ritual to transform himself into a lich. A lich is a powerful mage who achieved undead by storing his soul in a phylactery. Unfortunately for him, adventurers attacked him just as he was about to complete the ritual. As a result, only part of his soul was succesfully stored in the phylactery, costing Xedris most of his power. To top it of, the adventurers stole the phylactery and sealed him inside a mausoleum, where he remained trapped for centuries. Over the years, the undead with half a soul lost most of his memories, magical power and sanity. His only companion being the statue of an angel watching over the graves. When he finally escaped, he remembered nothing save for his name and a devotion to the angel that protects the dead in their final resting place.
He is (obviously) old-fashioned, likes small animals and is a bit of a pervert.
Special Abilities: Being a lich, he has a natural talent for necromancy. Combined with cleric revival spells he can bring almost anyone back to life.
Weakness: His class is directly opposed to his race. Heal spells damage him, turn undead spells result in himself fleeing in terror and the angel he worships wants all undead exterminated. Not to mention every time he revives a teammate small pieces tend to fall of, but you weren't using that toe anyway, so stop whining.
Equipment: A robe and mask that cover him completely, hiding his undead identity from most people. He also carries a ring from his previous life, but he can't remember where he got it or if it does anything.
Appearance: A human skeleton, roughly 1.80 m tall, he usually wears a hood and a golden mask in public.
Name: Xedris 'All Bones' Morteo
Age: Centuries, he doesn't even remember himself.
Class: Cleric
Bio: In life, Xedris was a powerful sorcerer who terrorized the lands. His mad quest for power eventually led him to start a ritual to transform himself into a lich. A lich is a powerful mage who achieved undead by storing his soul in a phylactery. Unfortunately for him, adventurers attacked him just as he was about to complete the ritual. As a result, only part of his soul was succesfully stored in the phylactery, costing Xedris most of his power. To top it of, the adventurers stole the phylactery and sealed him inside a mausoleum, where he remained trapped for centuries. Over the years, the undead with half a soul lost most of his memories, magical power and sanity. His only companion being the statue of an angel watching over the graves. When he finally escaped, he remembered nothing save for his name and a devotion to the angel that protects the dead in their final resting place.
He is (obviously) old-fashioned, likes small animals and is a bit of a pervert.
Special Abilities: Being a lich, he has a natural talent for necromancy. Combined with cleric revival spells he can bring almost anyone back to life.
Weakness: His class is directly opposed to his race. Heal spells damage him, turn undead spells result in himself fleeing in terror and the angel he worships wants all undead exterminated. Not to mention every time he revives a teammate small pieces tend to fall of, but you weren't using that toe anyway, so stop whining.
Equipment: A robe and mask that cover him completely, hiding his undead identity from most people. He also carries a ring from his previous life, but he can't remember where he got it or if it does anything.
Appearance: A human skeleton, roughly 1.80 m tall, he usually wears a hood and a golden mask in public.
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shieldman
Verber of Nouns
Excellence.
Name: Rhodes Artruc
Age: 24
Class: Knight
Bio: Abandoned as a child, Rhodes was left to raise himself on the mean streets of the country's capital city. Once he turned 16, the Imperial Army took him in as a soldier, but quickly discharged him when they realized he was awful at just about everything related to combat. He got it in his head that they were so impressed that they didn't want to make anyone fight him. He kept his armor and halberd, choosing to chase after the army and attempt to participate in battles he'd never show up to on time. To this day he hasn't fought a single opponent in real combat. Mostly he just thinks he'd destroy anyone foolish enough to oppose him.
Equipment: Knight armor, halberd, flask, fake Imperial signet
Special Abilities: None. Worse than none. He has no normal abilities.
Weakness: Atrocious at combat, worse at talking to people, but is very confident. That's usually his downfall too.
Appearance: On the shorter side, gaunt and thin, with high cheekbones and big blue eyes. He never removes his armor, even to sleep, so many aren't sure about more than that. Somehow he manages to stay impeccably clean. He's usually seen with a bright smile and a twinkle in his eye.
Name: Rhodes Artruc
Age: 24
Class: Knight
Bio: Abandoned as a child, Rhodes was left to raise himself on the mean streets of the country's capital city. Once he turned 16, the Imperial Army took him in as a soldier, but quickly discharged him when they realized he was awful at just about everything related to combat. He got it in his head that they were so impressed that they didn't want to make anyone fight him. He kept his armor and halberd, choosing to chase after the army and attempt to participate in battles he'd never show up to on time. To this day he hasn't fought a single opponent in real combat. Mostly he just thinks he'd destroy anyone foolish enough to oppose him.
Equipment: Knight armor, halberd, flask, fake Imperial signet
Special Abilities: None. Worse than none. He has no normal abilities.
Weakness: Atrocious at combat, worse at talking to people, but is very confident. That's usually his downfall too.
Appearance: On the shorter side, gaunt and thin, with high cheekbones and big blue eyes. He never removes his armor, even to sleep, so many aren't sure about more than that. Somehow he manages to stay impeccably clean. He's usually seen with a bright smile and a twinkle in his eye.
shieldman
Verber of Nouns
"Okay, you got lucky the last fifteen times, bear, but THIS TIME--"LeviathanL said:
"I'm out of revival magic for right now, Rhodes."
"...NEXT TIME, you're mine!"
shieldman
Verber of Nouns
I'm going to take a huge guess about the "All Bones" part...
But yes, I'm curious why you picked Xedris.
But yes, I'm curious why you picked Xedris.
Deadkool
A Sad Remnant of a Forgotten Time
Could you move this discussion to OOC?
Santii
New Member
Name:
Lexx
Age:
21
Class:
Shape Shifter
Bio:
The only way to become a shifter was to carry the gene, and for better or for worse,Lexx's family had carried it for generations. That’s why it was of no real surprise when young Lexx transformed for the first time. Of course, it wasn’t considered a celebratory event, either, considering how shapeshifters had been having a difficult time since the time of the first trials. His father took it upon himself to help get his abilities in check, and to choose a form that would not only blend in with the wildlife of the area, but that should he need it, give him a fighting chance.
Learning to control and perfect the change was far from easy, especially when he needed to be able to blend in with the rest of the town, by the time he was nineteen, he still had not managed to control the shift. And his time was running out because it wasn’t long after, that he needed to use those skills. Somehow, someone had seen something, and sent hunters after them. Lexx had been on his way home when they attacked, but no one else in his family shared his luck. By the time he got there, his father was dead, and his mother, who’d been human, was kneeling beside him.
In a fit of rage (when his shifting worked best, he took his father’s favoured form of a cougar , tracked the hunters who had done it through the woodlands, and took his revenge. The worst part? He’d known the people who’d done it. It’d been one of his friends, and their parents. Disgusted that he’d ever trusted them, he returned home, and distanced himself from anyone he knew — if he couldn’t know who to trust, he just wouldn’t trust anyone at all. Over the years, not much changed. He still kept to himself most of the time.
Equipment:
When in human form Lexx wears simple armour a long cloak and leather boots. He carries no weapons.
Special Abilities:
Can change his appearance at will and can turn into almost any creature.
Weakness:
Lexx can't always change his appearance or form at will and very rarely does he change into what he intended to. Due to his inadequacies Lexx has very low self esteem and Gets depressed easy.
Appearance:
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Deadkool
A Sad Remnant of a Forgotten Time
Could you make him a little less edgy?
Deadkool
A Sad Remnant of a Forgotten Time
It's not his appearance. Try making his flaw less technical and more comical. It's not very funny if in a Simpsons episode everyone just sits and watched TV, getting a little bit fatter every episode. Maybe make it so when he transforms it's completely random.
[dice]5741[/dice]
[dice]5741[/dice]
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Deadkool
A Sad Remnant of a Forgotten Time
Oh, how about this for added hilarity, roll a die, depending on the number, you'll change into that animal. a 600-sided die should do.
Deadkool
A Sad Remnant of a Forgotten Time
you got this little guy
eowarion
Wizard Extraordinaire
Drunken wizard and uncontrolled shapeshifter shenanigans!
Deadkool
A Sad Remnant of a Forgotten Time
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Attachments
eowarion
Wizard Extraordinaire
"Oh m- oh my gossshhh, hes- hesa wassiss! Fire-BLARGH!"
Deadkool
A Sad Remnant of a Forgotten Time
Just forget about it, I'll use the random generator, oh, by the way. No more talking in CS application, move it to OOC
Urdragon
New Member
Hey if it's not too late, here is the character concept I'm thinking of using,
Name: Andreste "Polluto" Lallithim
Age: 69
Class: Druid
Bio:
Andreste never got why the other druids disliked him so. Sure he couldn't for the life of him keep any other thing alive for more than a few days and plants seemed to shy away or wither when he passed them by. But! He had learned what nature was all about. Survival of the fittest. And if deforestation, cesspools and chemicals won over nature, well then as a druid he ought to embrace these things. The order of the Weeping Willows had at first given him dirty looks and hissed slightly at him. When Andreste changed how he practiced druidism by getting into the pollution game, it was decided he'd best make a spiritual quest to reconnect with the wild.
The Weeping Willow elders sent him to a holy grove, overrun by the forces of evil. When Andreste saw this he knew just what to do. With quick wit and slimy business practices he hired a company of goblins to deforest the Grove, collect the holy water and cage the creatures of darkness. All it cost was a few polished rocks(he convinced the goblins they were miniature dragon eggs) and the lives of 42 brave goblins (used as bait, to capture creatures of evil).
The wood, water and creatures were sold at a massive profit to fools whom pay extra for things "Sacred" and "Holy". The weeping elders of the Weeping Willows were for some odd reason not happy about this and sent Andreste into exile. This puzzled him to no end, but he took his goblin work force and left to make a tidy profit elsewhere. This went splendidly for a while, until that small scandal about accidentally poisoning a few villages with pollution. Had not those severally miss informed heroes come and killed his goblin work force and destroyed the factory, he is sure he could have found a compromise with the villagers.
As luck would have it Andreste had made plans for just such an incident. A dressed up goat took the blame and Andreste and his secretary the goblin known as Scribly got away. Now being greatly reduced he has set his sight on some thing more profitable. Brand recognition! Time to find some heroes, capitalize on their momentum and sell lots of merchandise using the hero brand.
Equipment: Sigar, Matches, hair grease, comb, pen and "Sacred" papir, Sigar cutter, dagger, staff of pollution, shabby looking dress and his pet companion Scribly the Secretary(goblin).
Race: Half Elf
Special Abilities: Can talk you into buying anything from him, produces enough pollution to kill plants, birds, small mammals and induce a caughing fit to any elf passing by.
Weakness: Can not keep any living thing alive for long. Is severally crippled without his secretary Scribly the goblin. Can not turn away from a chance at profit.
Appearance:
Andreste is always ready with a big smile and big confusing words no one really knows what mean. His hair is long and slick, sticking to his scalp thanks to a lot of grease, his atire is colourful and a little shabby, but with just enough professionalism it looks like he knows what he's talking about. In his mouth is a fat Sigar that exhales enough smoke to tell you that this guy is important. For added effect Andreste also carries with him a metal staff that dispenses sigars and an unatural amount of thick smog.
Name: Andreste "Polluto" Lallithim
Age: 69
Class: Druid
Bio:
Andreste never got why the other druids disliked him so. Sure he couldn't for the life of him keep any other thing alive for more than a few days and plants seemed to shy away or wither when he passed them by. But! He had learned what nature was all about. Survival of the fittest. And if deforestation, cesspools and chemicals won over nature, well then as a druid he ought to embrace these things. The order of the Weeping Willows had at first given him dirty looks and hissed slightly at him. When Andreste changed how he practiced druidism by getting into the pollution game, it was decided he'd best make a spiritual quest to reconnect with the wild.
The Weeping Willow elders sent him to a holy grove, overrun by the forces of evil. When Andreste saw this he knew just what to do. With quick wit and slimy business practices he hired a company of goblins to deforest the Grove, collect the holy water and cage the creatures of darkness. All it cost was a few polished rocks(he convinced the goblins they were miniature dragon eggs) and the lives of 42 brave goblins (used as bait, to capture creatures of evil).
The wood, water and creatures were sold at a massive profit to fools whom pay extra for things "Sacred" and "Holy". The weeping elders of the Weeping Willows were for some odd reason not happy about this and sent Andreste into exile. This puzzled him to no end, but he took his goblin work force and left to make a tidy profit elsewhere. This went splendidly for a while, until that small scandal about accidentally poisoning a few villages with pollution. Had not those severally miss informed heroes come and killed his goblin work force and destroyed the factory, he is sure he could have found a compromise with the villagers.
As luck would have it Andreste had made plans for just such an incident. A dressed up goat took the blame and Andreste and his secretary the goblin known as Scribly got away. Now being greatly reduced he has set his sight on some thing more profitable. Brand recognition! Time to find some heroes, capitalize on their momentum and sell lots of merchandise using the hero brand.
Equipment: Sigar, Matches, hair grease, comb, pen and "Sacred" papir, Sigar cutter, dagger, staff of pollution, shabby looking dress and his pet companion Scribly the Secretary(goblin).
Race: Half Elf
Special Abilities: Can talk you into buying anything from him, produces enough pollution to kill plants, birds, small mammals and induce a caughing fit to any elf passing by.
Weakness: Can not keep any living thing alive for long. Is severally crippled without his secretary Scribly the goblin. Can not turn away from a chance at profit.
Appearance:
Andreste is always ready with a big smile and big confusing words no one really knows what mean. His hair is long and slick, sticking to his scalp thanks to a lot of grease, his atire is colourful and a little shabby, but with just enough professionalism it looks like he knows what he's talking about. In his mouth is a fat Sigar that exhales enough smoke to tell you that this guy is important. For added effect Andreste also carries with him a metal staff that dispenses sigars and an unatural amount of thick smog.
The Comic Sans
Bein a bonehead
Name: Jir0 Swift
Age: 18
Class: Thief
Bio: Almost constantly on the run but never for long as he is often disregarded as a serious problem. He's actually pretty quick and is good at silence but always manages to mess up jobs in usually ironic ways. Is always optimistic about a mission and is constantly on the lookout for more money
Equipment: a steel dagger and a rapier, as well as leather gloves and armor. Several thieves tools such as lock picks, smoke bombs etc.
Special Abilities: Quick, is usually silent but deadly has usually all the stealth required to be a thief except...
Weakness: is horribly clumsy and partially unlucky can only go so far without tripping over nothing or dropping or hitting something
Appearance:
Age: 18
Class: Thief
Bio: Almost constantly on the run but never for long as he is often disregarded as a serious problem. He's actually pretty quick and is good at silence but always manages to mess up jobs in usually ironic ways. Is always optimistic about a mission and is constantly on the lookout for more money
Equipment: a steel dagger and a rapier, as well as leather gloves and armor. Several thieves tools such as lock picks, smoke bombs etc.
Special Abilities: Quick, is usually silent but deadly has usually all the stealth required to be a thief except...
Weakness: is horribly clumsy and partially unlucky can only go so far without tripping over nothing or dropping or hitting something
Appearance:
Deadkool
A Sad Remnant of a Forgotten Time
Name: Ragnarok
Age: 24
Class(Paladin,Rogue,Barbarian, etc.): Archer
Bio:
Ragnarok's name is unfortunately accurate. His family has a history of being archers, a rarity in their barbarian clan. With these archers, their clan was a force to be reckoned with. However, Ragnarok's ineptitude was readily apparent. Ragnarok was so terrible, he was expelled from the clan. Now, a wanderer with his father's bow, Ragnarok decided to begin helping people, still training his massive and unwieldy strength with a vow only to use his father's bow.
Equipment: A well-made bow of a great oak, heavy barbarian armor
Race: Orc
Special Abilities: Great Strength
Weakness: Ragnarok cannot hit ANYTHING, his aim is atrocious. Ragnarok couldn't shoot the broad side of a barn from a hundred millimeters
Appearance:
StaleWhiteBread
Titan of Roleplaying
Name: Sergei Stroganov
Age: 35
Class: Mage
Bio: Born to the Stroganov clan, his family expected him to follow in his father's footsteps and become a strongman in the circus. But, even as his mighty body grew to enormous proportions, even as he had became HUGE, he always felt that his one true calling was in the mystic arts.
As soon as he could, he ran away from home, with nothing but the clothes on his massive, rippling back, and headed to the nearest mage's school. He was, of course, admitted immediately, and passed all of his classes, because who is going to fail someone whose arm is bigger than you are? His unique status among the mages of the Wallach Mages' School allowed him to learn some unusual spells, but nothing too common. As a result, he's learned to channel his spells through his massive physique, and must flex and pose in place of chanting.
Though he ran away at a young age, the lessons of kindness and protection of the weak stuck with him, and he will refuse physical violence, seeing it as a perversion of the physical art that is the body.
Equipment: 1 (incredibly torn) mage's robe, mage's tome
Race: Human
Special Abilities: Flex casting, the ability (though absolute refusal in anything but the most dire circumstances) to cast FIST.
Weakness: Near-absolute pacifism, poor knowledge of the arcane, untrained in any weapon, somewhat too-trusting
Appearance: 7 feet tall, 350 pounds of pure muscle. Bald, with a massive, bushy beard and mustache. Unusual markings on skin that allow for magic channeling through muscles.
Age: 35
Class: Mage
Bio: Born to the Stroganov clan, his family expected him to follow in his father's footsteps and become a strongman in the circus. But, even as his mighty body grew to enormous proportions, even as he had became HUGE, he always felt that his one true calling was in the mystic arts.
As soon as he could, he ran away from home, with nothing but the clothes on his massive, rippling back, and headed to the nearest mage's school. He was, of course, admitted immediately, and passed all of his classes, because who is going to fail someone whose arm is bigger than you are? His unique status among the mages of the Wallach Mages' School allowed him to learn some unusual spells, but nothing too common. As a result, he's learned to channel his spells through his massive physique, and must flex and pose in place of chanting.
Though he ran away at a young age, the lessons of kindness and protection of the weak stuck with him, and he will refuse physical violence, seeing it as a perversion of the physical art that is the body.
Equipment: 1 (incredibly torn) mage's robe, mage's tome
Race: Human
Special Abilities: Flex casting, the ability (though absolute refusal in anything but the most dire circumstances) to cast FIST.
Weakness: Near-absolute pacifism, poor knowledge of the arcane, untrained in any weapon, somewhat too-trusting
Appearance: 7 feet tall, 350 pounds of pure muscle. Bald, with a massive, bushy beard and mustache. Unusual markings on skin that allow for magic channeling through muscles.
IG42
Paranoid Android
Name: Hathid Thunderstalker
Age: 42
Class: Hunter
Bio: Raised in a subterranean dwarven kingdom Hathid made a living as a construction worker until he was banished to the surface when he inadvertently decapitated a statue of the king with a crane and nearly crushed several passer-by. At a loss for what to do with himself on the surface he followed the path of every freeloader with no useful skills and took up adventuring.
Upon finding a fairly experienced (not quite dead yet) hunter he followed and pestered him until he agreed to teach the clueless dwarf. After teaching Hathid the basics of adventuring and taming animals the Hunter managed to sneak away one night leaving his "student" alone in the middle of the wilderness. After cursing his mentor for a while Hathid managed to craft a stone axe, wandered around and tried to tame whichever animals he thought looked decently tough though after many failed attempts he eventually managed to tame a bison.
Equipment: Scavenged iron armour and axe.
Race: Dwarf
Special Abilities: Actually a half decent stone worker, tracking skills, can ride overland quite fast on his bison
Weakness: Not called "Thunderstalker" for nothing, knows very little about life aboveground, didn't quite tame his bison correctly it often headbutts him and rarely goes in the desired direction when being ridden.
Appearance:
Age: 42
Class: Hunter
Bio: Raised in a subterranean dwarven kingdom Hathid made a living as a construction worker until he was banished to the surface when he inadvertently decapitated a statue of the king with a crane and nearly crushed several passer-by. At a loss for what to do with himself on the surface he followed the path of every freeloader with no useful skills and took up adventuring.
Upon finding a fairly experienced (not quite dead yet) hunter he followed and pestered him until he agreed to teach the clueless dwarf. After teaching Hathid the basics of adventuring and taming animals the Hunter managed to sneak away one night leaving his "student" alone in the middle of the wilderness. After cursing his mentor for a while Hathid managed to craft a stone axe, wandered around and tried to tame whichever animals he thought looked decently tough though after many failed attempts he eventually managed to tame a bison.
Equipment: Scavenged iron armour and axe.
Race: Dwarf
Special Abilities: Actually a half decent stone worker, tracking skills, can ride overland quite fast on his bison
Weakness: Not called "Thunderstalker" for nothing, knows very little about life aboveground, didn't quite tame his bison correctly it often headbutts him and rarely goes in the desired direction when being ridden.
Appearance:
