Fantasy Darkness Falls (Characters)

[Enkerzed]

Lore || Main || OOC
​

This is just a guideline...

Name:

Character Image: (optional)

Nicknames: (optional)

Character Description: (notable features, height, build, etc.)

Gender:

Age:

Personality:

Backstory:

Skills and Abilities:

Extra: (optional)




Approved Characters:

@Enkerzed ~ Liffis Kai - Katja Cosa - Ricard Alonzo
@Roleplay Skittle ~ Daskanya Lacatus
@Reaper 1-1 ~ Zaan Yutath
@Osthavula ~ Estelle Rose
@augmentedspartan ~ Wick Warder
@Tedronai ~ Kumira Shilan - Isobah Thorn
@Delacare ~ Hendrik Hallowwind
@IctoraPost ~ Robert Kokapufs
BubbleButt ~ The Grave-Walker
@ThisUsernameIsALie ~ Nicholas Kaylock
@Flowër Powër ~ Eliana Rosette
@Coyote ~ Qure Saxon
@Nunali ~ Dahlia Edenvale
@cyndiratoms ~ Arshalu Roin
@guul66 ~ Edwyn Rosenborough II
@SirDerpingtonIV ~ Sir Davis Eizen
Proletariat ~ Detmar Blood-Axe
John RipFist ~ Pharris Grey
Kazanna ~ Remington Ahimoth




Orphaned Characters:
Alamara Verona Birch

 

[Enkerzed]

Name: Liffis Kai
 


Character Image: 

Spoiler

Character Description: Blonde hair / Green eyes / Caucasian / 5'9 height / Lean muscular build / Forehead marked with 3 black dots arranged in a triangle / Nose and ear piercings / Beard covers entire jawline.


 


Gender: Male


 


Age: 27


 


Personality: Cynical, bitter and pessimistic, Liffis is one of the few hard-eyed surviving veterans of the 6th Crusade and has long ago lost any hope of victory over the Necromancer, but would continue to fight anyway, if only because he believes it to be the right thing to do. Just about the only thing keeping him going these days is his own moral convictions and devotion to the Light, tenuous as his faith is.


 


Backstory: Growing up, Liffis's earliest childhood memories were of running down dark, dank tunnels, climbing up and jumping along high walls, and playing in large cells that used to be torture chambers. The Sanctuary he was born and raised in had once been a necromancer's stronghold, one of many that the Necromancer had conquered and cleansed over a hundred years ago when he was still known as 'Lightbringer'. Despite the current state of things, Liffis had been taught to remember that it was thanks to the Lightbringer that anyone was able to survive his eventual corruption to the Dark and that although one's good deeds did not wash out the bad, neither did the bad wash out the good.


With such lessons engraved into his core, Liffis grew up to be an idealistic and just young man, and at the age of 18, when the warriors of the 6th Crusade arrived to collect recruits, Liffis saw it as a solemn duty to volunteer and join their ranks in hopes of ending the Necromancer's reign of terror, once and for all. Two years later when every Sanctuary in Vime had been visited and every measure of preparation was in place, the crusade began in earnest and Liffis quickly proved himself a valuable asset to his fellows, despite his young age.

Every night, they faced swarms upon swarms of the undead wraiths and every night, Liffis fought alongside his fellow Crusaders, saving their lives, keeping their spirits high, helping with the wounded and joining in prayers over the fallen. For several months, the crusade ground on and the number of able bodied fighters dwindled by the day, but still they pressed on, thanks in no small part to Liffis's attempts to rally them and keep hope alive.

After almost an entire year, the longest any Crusade had lasted up to this point, they had finally found the Necromancer and launched a full on assault, although it would have been more accurate to say that the Necromancer had found them and the Crusaders only retaliated. Nonetheless, they fought with all the fury they could muster and at one point throughout the night, Liffis had managed to carve his way so far into the mob of Wraiths that he was able to see the Necromancer's face. Black hair, glowing eyes, pale and dispassionate, a sight he would never forget. But then dawn broke and as the Wraiths vanished away, so too did the Necromancer.

When Liffis saw all that remained of the Crusaders, he wept for all of his friends had died that night and every four in five souls were lost during the battle. They were far too few in number and low on supplies to possibly continue fighting, so they limped their way to the nearest Sanctuary, losing more to wounds and Wraiths in the night, and from there they went their separate ways back home, frustrated and defeated. The 6th Crusade had failed and fallen apart, and no one ever saw the Necromancer again.

Liffis never did return to his home Sanctuary as he opted to stay at the one the Crusaders had retreated to and he has remained there ever since, embittered and desperately trying to still believe in the Light.


 


Skills and Abilities:

• Strong leadership.
  
• Skilled swordsman. Not exactly a master of the blade, but an experienced and able warrior nonetheless.
  
• High level of endurance and pain tolerance. Comes with fighting Wraiths every night for a whole year as a Crusader.
  
• High level of agility
  

Extra:

 

[Enkerzed]

Name: Katja Cosa
 


Character Image:

Spoiler

Nicknames: The Blue Flame, Maiden


 


Character Description: Tawny brown hair / Blue eyes / Caucasian / 5'7 height / Slender figure / Has freckles


 


Gender: Female


 


Age: 19


 


Personality: Quick tempered, haughty, ostentatious and mulishly stubborn, a volatile mix as befits her Blessing of fire, though this is mostly an act that became genuine over time. Through effecting a hard exterior, Katja hopes to conceal the fragility of her true self, which is constantly wracked with fear and doubt. Having been raised for the sole purpose of facing the Necromancer in single combat, Katja suffers from nightmares of past ordeals she had been forced to endure and of the greatest one yet to come, but above all else, she fears failure the most.


 


Backstory: After every failed Crusade, the temples of each Sanctuary search for Blessed children with the most potential for power, hoping to find one just as powerful or even more so than the Lightbringer of old, and capable of defeating the Necromancer he became once and for all. Katja was one such child with an affinity for the Blessing of fire, but capable of using other powers of the Light as well, that of healing and illumination.

From the age of ten, Katja and others like her were brought to a temple where they would remain shuttered away for years, learning how to use their Blessings and being indoctrinated in the ways of the Light. Her mother was any number of stern faced matrons reading passages from the Words of Light and her father was the high priest who had collected her from her real parents, all too ready for the honour of giving their only daughter into the service of Light.

At the age of thirteen, Katja's training had begun in earnest and consisted of grueling hours of daily practice with the use of her Blessing, followed by sessions of being beaten with various implements to increase her pain tolerance, as well as being alternately starved and worn down through hours of walking around in circles to condition her body to deprivation. In this, Katja consistently outperformed her fellows and so grew the beginnings of her arrogant nature, but each night she would fall asleep sobbing with pain both physical and emotional, her body covered in welts and bruises.



At the age of sixteen, Katja and the others would be ushered outside of the temple for the first time, only to face perhaps the most brutal trial by far. One by one, they were told to leave the hallowed grounds of the Sanctuary and survive the night without assistance from anyone else. They were only allowed to return at the break of dawn and if any attempted to do so before then, a veteran of the 6th Crusade stood nearby with a crossbow in hand and a full quiver of iron quarrels. From thereon, each night saw one of the children being sent into the darkness to face whatever horrors it held and each dawn, everyone watched and waited for their return. Some came back. Others did not.

After all the remaining children had completed the test at least once, they were promptly told to repeat it and it eventually became clear that this process would go on until there was only one left. Many tried to escape then, some trying to find help and pity from other people in the Sanctuary, others trying to sneak away with the next caravan. Always they were hunted down, mercilessly and without preamble. Eventually only a few were left... and then only Katja, who by that point had survived a total of fifty nights and had lost count of the number of Wraiths she had slain.

The following years after that were kinder, if it could be called that. Her training continued, but now it was on her own terms and she had been elevated to a figure of reverence among the temple and the people of the Sanctuary, who called her 'The Blue Flame' for the unique colour of her fire Blessing. For all the adoration heaped upon her however, the nightmares of her past ordeals would continue to haunt her sleep and compound the greatest fear lingering in the back of her mind, that everything she had suffered until now and the sacrifice of all the other children of the temple would ultimately be for nothing.


Skills and Abilities:

• Fire Blessing prodigy. Able to conjure and control flames so hot, they are able to melt rock and incinerate flesh in an instant.
  
• Intermediate healer. Capable of mending most trauma wounds. Limited ability with poison, sickness and infections.
  
• Intermediate lightbearer. Capable of illuminating darkness up to a hundred metres and form a small barrier made from light, strong enough to deflect heavy physical blows.
  
• High pain tolerance and endurance. Years of the iron rod and deprivation training.
  

Extra:

 

[Raku]

Zaan Yutath
 





Nicknames: None as of now


 


Character Description: Eyes glow a yellow-orange when using his ability. Stands at about 6' with a stocky build.


 


Gender: Male


 


Age: 28


 


Personality: Zaan is a stern man. He expects those he speaks to to take him seriously. Due to his time in previous and battles, he is hardened by the horrors of the Necromancer's armies. He is a dedicated and resilient fighter, not stopping until he can't move if it comes to that. Even though he has a hard mind and body every warrior has a soft spot, Zaan's is his family (who died). 


 


Backstory: Zaan's true birthplace is unknown to him but he grew up in a Sanctuary in the wilderness. He had a brother and a sister along with both his parents. At a young age their father taught them in the art of archery and combat. Often fighting each other, Zaan and his brother knew their attacking styles. Zaan was definitely a striker while his brother was more a defender. Continuing the same routine along with a good education, they were soldiers in the physical stance. Now it was time to train another ability, magic. Their mother had helped them with their magical training and soon they realized what form they wanted to perfect. Zaan enjoyed using fire while his brother enjoyed using other methods. By the time they were 24 Zaan and his brother were done with learning, now they had to perfect their skills. The two had gone to fight the Necromancer's undead forces alone. They did not wish to join the Crusades because they feared it would separate them from each other. The two brothers became well known due to their effectiveness and efficiency. Unknown to them, there father had joined the Crusade. When they returned home to hear that their father was gone and their mother and sister disappeared, the brothers were furious. With their family gone due to the Necromancer, both vowed vengeance for their father, their sister, their mother. Returning to battle, the brothers fought with a new found power, anger. Their methods became more dangerous, especially Zaan's. On the 5th night of their return, the men were decimated. Zaan searched for his brother amongst the dead. He never found him. With all his loved ones gone, he felt no happiness. The only feeling left in his heart was hatred and vengence. As the last remaining Yutath, he vowed he would not die, that he would avenge his family. 


 


Skills and Abilities: Moderate flame user. Capable of bending existing flames and creating new flames from his hands.


Extra: His armor is not actually gold, it's just colored. Uses claw-like weapons that a basically 3 blades that fit in-between the gaps of his fingers that are molded to a small metal cylinder.


Song- The Vengeful One by Disturbed

 

[Roleplay Skittle]

Name: Daskanya Lacatus

Character Image:

Spoiler

Nicknames: Lady Viper, Anya (only to those she has come to trust)

Character Description:

• Height: 6’0”
• Weight: 210 lbs
• Hair Color: Black, layered shorter in the front just to her jaw and down to her shoulder blades in the back.
• Eye Color: Green
• Pale skin
• Her most prominent features are the black ink tattoos on her face that appear reminiscent of scales, her lips also tattooed in black ink.
• Her second most prominent features are the scars all over her body from her neck down.
• She is very densely muscled.

Gender: Female

Age: 28

Personality:

• Daskanya is very reserved.
• Mannerisms she gained when she was young stay with her to this day.
• She doesn’t believe in idle chit chat and remains silent unless she feels like she needs to speak, this has gained her a reputation of being snobby or rude (even bitchy most times).
• She can become quite manic when in combat which is a stark contrast to her usual demeanor.
• Because she’s not very sociable, she can often be found studying, meditating (and praying), or honing her skills in a craft.
• She considers her body a temple and doesn’t consume any alcoholic beverages.
• She is extremely patient and difficult to provoke.
• It’s difficult to gain her trust or respect.

Backstory:

Spoiler

Born to nobility her parents were relatively detached which left her on her own a lot. Despite constant care from maids, valets, tutors and the like, she eventually grew detached herself and once she was a teenager, she really wanted nothing more to do with anyone around her, knowing that those whose care she was under were only there because they were paid to be. Preferring solitude for the most part, she did whatever she could to keep away from her parents and anyone else. While she was exploring her family’s manor, she stumbled across a room that was locked, but there was someone inside. She eventually discovered that someone was her grandfather. Her father had locked him away hoping to prevent him from dishonoring the family name as he was a practitioner of Dark magic and her father saw that as a blemish on their family name. Daskanya came to realize that she was more like her grandfather than anyone else in her family and by careful means arranged by her grandfather, she came to sneak away at night just to spend time with him. He taught her things that her tutors didn’t because they were considered taboo as well did he teach her to fight.

When the time came for Anya to marry into another wealthy noble family, she panicked and took the situation to her grandfather. She didn’t want to continue to spend her life locked away in the house when there was so much of the world to explore. She felt she wasn’t destined to be locked away as she had been for her entire life. Her grandfather had already made arrangements before her birth and rushed them in order to take her away before she was married.

Her father found out about the hidden meetings between Anya and his father and put an end to the situation, unbeknownst to Anya, he murdered her grandfather and told her that anything had may have happened to him was no longer her concern. Anya locked herself away, unsure of what to do without the guidance of her grandfather. Gathering her wits, she eventually continued the plan on her own, knowing her grandfather wouldn’t want her to give up, she ran away in hopes of seeking a destiny better than the one which had been set upon her by her parents.

The only preparation she had for the outside world was what she had been taught by her grandfather. She hadn’t even known of the situation of the world until her grandfather had presented it. It wasn’t long after she had made it outside, attempting to flee the sanctuary and find the next that she came across trouble. Despite her training, she was still only a girl and her body was nearly completely shredded, she was lucky that a group of Crusaders found her in time and healed her. She miraculously survived and begged of them not to send her back to her father and to instead let her join them, seeing their intervention as the higher calling she was destined for, after all, who could know what was happening in the world and not try to stop it?

Theodore Grimwald was the name of the man leading the band of Crusaders. He was hesitant at first, but to Anya’s persistent pleading, he eventually relented and took her to the next sanctuary. After hearing her story, he determined that she could make a decent contribution to the effort to halt the Necromancer, being that she was young and moldable and outside of general knowledge, she had already been slightly practiced in combat.

Theodore placed her with his own family in the sanctuary where she helped out in any way she could. Her skills were limited to those expected of a closeted noble girl and at most she could only really weave and embroider. Theodore continued training her as her grandfather had and helped her improve her combat skills, eventually in her mid teens, she became enthralled with blacksmithing, seeing it as another means of aiding the effort and Theodore arranged with the sanctuary’s blacksmith for Anya to apprentice under him.

She studied him carefully, she had convinced herself that to honor her grandfather’s memory, she had to become a well-rounded individual with skills that would allow her to survive on her own. Eventually, after years just watching and learning, the blacksmith allowed her to craft her own weapon. She chose a simple sword and it was completely unrefined. She didn’t stop trying though and after years of training was finally able to craft an acceptable weapon.

She had come to greatly admire Theo as he had placed his trust in her and cared for her much as he did his own children and much as she had looked to her grandfather as a father figure, she came to look at Theo much the same way, placing her trust in him as well. During the last crusade, Anya had begun training with the resident healers, just another step in what she had claimed as her path. Theodore wouldn’t let her leave with him because he didn’t think she was ready and preferred her to stay and heal any survivors that were able to make it back from the frontlines.

Her mentor never returned from the Crusade and since then she has done her best to honor him. She makes no time for frivolous actions and spends every waking moment honing one of the skills she has picked up in hopes of better aiding the effort to slay the necromancer.

Skills and Abilities:

• Healing skills - Moderate
• Hand-to-hand combat - Preference
• Melee weapons – Sword and mace skills - Proficiency
• Two handed sword - Moderate

Extra:

Spoiler

Anya ALWAYS has these two things on her person:

• Tri horn necklace – She received it as a keepsake from her grandfather before she lost him.

• Her grandfather’s ring – A ring bearing her family’s heraldic animal

Anya also possesses the following items:

• The first sword she ever crafted
• Plate armor – her main set of armor that she only wears when she knows she is going to be in combat.
• Leather armor that she can almost always be seen wearing except for when she is blacksmithing or doing some other activity where armor can be a burden.
• Weapons – one-handed sword, shield, one-handed mace

 

[Malice Queen]

View attachment 245586View attachment 245585



Name – Dahlia Edenvale


Nicknames – Dahlia of Casion


Gender – Female


Age – 27


Physical Description – Stands at 5'2", weighs 127 pounds without armor and 157 pounds with armor. Green eyes, blonde hair, average build. No scars or tattoos.


Personality


A lot can be said of Dahlia, but most think highly of her due to her selflessness and kind-hearted spirit. She is dedicated to those who have earned her trust, and loyal to the point that she would follow someone into the Dark realm if they asked her to. Her faith has carried her through many grim situations and she is often seen as a beacon of hope among the refugees and less fortunate. Despite all these good qualities, Dhalia has her moments of weakness – her compassion for others can become a hinderance to her mission, though she dare not act on such thoughts. She becomes upset and hurt when faced with a person who has lost all faith in the Light. Due to her past, she has a severe distrust for Cursed Ones and keeps an eye on any she comes in contact with.


History


The long horrid nights were of little concern to the people of Casion, their tall walls and well-trained guards made sure that they slept comfortably within their precious Sanctuary walls. Refugees who come from nearby villages and farmlands are denied asylum – even for one night as the nobility don't want their daily lives spoiled by the presence of refugees and beggars on the streets. Dahlia was a noblewoman who was betrothed to a man whose family was closer to the royalty of Casion. Arranged marriages are not an uncommon thing, especially in this city and to Dahlia it was her duty to her family to go through with the marriage. However, on the eve of their wedding, Dahlia had a dream that would change her life.


The Light had come to her in the dream, telling her that the life she had could change for the worst. The Light warned her of an impending doom of her city if they were not prepared. Not only did the Light grant her this clairvoyant dream, but it also awoke the dormant magic within her. The next morning she called off the wedding and dedicated herself to serving the Light. Her parents were furious at her sudden change and though they tried to coax her back to the fold, she was adamant. Casion needed to be prepared when the prophesied doom was upon them, even if no one believed her.


She was 24 then and two years later a force fell upon Casion; they were not prepared - but she was. Though the Light hadn't specified what challenge would await Casion, Dahlia had spent the two years learning how to fight and utilize the gift the Light had blessed her with. They attacked during the day, a group of Cursed Ones who seemed to worship the Necromancer as their deity or master. The city was sacked on the second night, the powers and sheer number of Cursed had been too much for the guards to handle, and, on top of that they were able to sully the holy ground Casion stood upon – allowing the undead to march their way right into the city. Before the gates fell, her and a small group of refugees escaped the city. Since then she's been travelling around the country, seeking to help those whenever she can and destroying the same evil that took her home from her.


Skills and Abilities


Healing Light – The user channels the light of the sun through her body and utilizes it to increase the regenerative factor, allowing the subject to heal at incredible rates. A drawback of this ability is that when it is night, the user channels their own life force in order to heal the target, the process also takes longer than if it were during the day.


Song – Fear Not This Night

 

[Osthavula]

 Estelle Rose (Wakefield)
 


 

Spoiler

Nicknames: Elf of Rosaria, dancer of light


 


Character Description: long golden hair and eyes, caucasian, lean but have muscle due to dancing,


 


Gender:female


 


Age: 25


 


Personality:Estelle was no doubt a perfectionist, her skills and fame rightfully earned by her restless work. Her wanting to be the beautiful and pure was her passion, an obsession, almost a mania. In front of people, she is gentle, kind, graceful, strong; behind people, she is hard working, a little vain, and a bit self-centered. She feared being ugly, both morally and visually, above the fear of death.


 


Backstory: An orphan to the opera, Estelle is a born performer who strived for the best. She was picked up by a member of the theatre staff (hence the last name) as an infant, and grew up watching other people performed. Both influenced and self-taught, she set herself an ultimate image to become: a beautiful, strong star that remains beautiful til the last moment. Obviously just dancing was not enough to be the best, so she also delved into light magic to add into her performance. Her income already allowed her to gather books and tutor she could find, and her skills was above what a dancer needed to know.


Her dance accompanied with the flashy magic quickly earn her great amount of fans. In jealousy, another famous performer had challenged Estelle, while inserting her own people into the judges. Fully knowing this wouldn't be a fair fight, but believing running away is not honourable, Estelle showed up and  accepted. With a performance said to be the climatic of her performing life, and with her loyal fans' uproar, she overwhelmed her opponent and gained her triumph.


However, she believed she had reach all she could on stage. This accompanied with what she knew about the politics and people behind the theatre, and the feeling that the place restricted those who could become so much more. Fearing that this situation would happen again, and she would merely be a performer eager to prove her worth in name, she exited the stage permanently.


It was not easy, quitting the place what was your entire life. Father was no longer with her, and no friends she could open her heart to. Estelle was jobless, and even though her fans have been sweet and wanting to help, she didn't have a place she belong. She was wandering the streets and beyond, pondering, when she came to a place outside of the walls. Some people were nearby, and it was evening, sun was sinking below the trees, as undead appeared unexpectedly. Jumping in front of a child, she did what she did best --- she danced, while her magic fended the undead off, they fell under the colourful light show.  She bought enough time for people to escape, and not only that, she stopped the group right where she stood.


Returning to town, what welcomed her was people's cheers and words of gratitude. It moved her, and she found herself a new stage. It not only match what she longed to be, and also was something far more admirable. She could be a protector.


With the new realization, she joined the force against the undead, and proved herself to be more than capable. It has been three years now, and she was one of the most memorable character.


Her "father" and her first teacher who diseased early was fully supportive of her. Wakefield was a son of a unsucessful scholar, who worked in the theatre, and self-taught himself literatures and plays. After his passing, Estelle had a lot of aquaintances and fans, but never one that was really close to her. This was perhaps because Estelle devoted even her private time to be the perfect image, her every move was graceful and dance-move like, and even how she behave was close to her ideal. This proved overwhelming for one to always hang around her.


 


Skills and Abilities:


advanced light manipulation -


light string: ribbons of light streaming out from her finger tips. This may only be heated strings for human, but for  undead it was a deadly whip, despite it was learned without the attention to harm.


explosion : looks like a firework, scorches like lightning


illusion: so far it was used for performance.


Extra: 
 

 

[augmentedspartan]

Wick Warder
​

Character Image:

Spoiler

Nicknames: None

Character Description: Short graying brown hair. Brown eyes. 6'3 tall. Deep voice. Athletic build. Body filled with scars.


Gender: Male

Age: 42

Personality: As far as Wick is concerned, most problem can be solved through talking, that is, as long as the topic of conversation is about the Light and its magnificence. Devoted to the point of near zealotism, he will try to solve any problem by converting anyone to a worshiper of the Light so that they too can understand the clear sight it has given him. Wick, however, knows he is but a man, and that sometimes a man cannot make one's enemies understand the truth, which is when it is his duty to literally beat the word of the Light into them. Violence is also something he is very proficient at, and has no qualms about enacting it when the situation requires it. In contrast with his gruff voice and imposing appearance, Wick is a very calm and collected person, and rarely goes out of his way to antagonize people, which, of course, doesn't include constant sermons and preachy teachings.

Backstory: Born to a mother devoted to the Light and to an Accursed father, Wick's childhood was, unexpectedly, adjusted and common for a child of his birth Sanctuary. His father, while quite adept in the arts of the Dark, helped raise Wick through the teachings of the Light, sealing his devotion since an early age. Being blessed with the gift of Light magic, he spent most of his childhood learning and honing his abilities, which seemed to concentrate on the healing of physical ailments. As his connecting with the Light grew, so it seemed did his father's with the Dark. Slowly but surely, his father became more involved with unsavory groups, and his activities starting to border that of illegality. His mother, rather blind to her husbands deeds, insisted that it wasn't his fault, he was just being manipulated by unpleasant people. Wick knew better though, he was sure it was the Dark corrupting his once noble and caring father into a death manipulating monster. He tried to lead him through the right path once again, reminding him of the teachings of the Light and the truth it spoke, but he would have none of that. Eventually, his activities already gifting him infamy, his father left the household to join his Cursed companions, and with time he and his group became known for their death bringing exploits around the Sanctuary. Of course, no bad deed goes unpunished, and it wasn't long before they fell against a group of Crusaders, who were trying to soften the blow of the Necromancer by killing lesser Dark users, finishing once and for all their trail of death. When the news arrived, Wick's mother was devastated, but Wick was grateful to the men who freed his father from the Dark and delivered him to the Light, where he would face and be cleansed of all his sins. As a final act of respect, he left the household to search for his father's body and give him a proper burial, as well as to collect the dark armor which had marked him throughout his dark campaign, as a final relic of what used to be a great man.


His death had left Wick a changed man, though, and he knew that it was his duty as a servant of the Light to join in the fight against the Necromancer. He enlisted as a local healer, aiding arriving caravans that dared leave the safety of the Sanctuaries. His healing magic became advanced enough that he would volunteer to be taken along as the party healer. However, one can't just fight against the Dark without risking their lives. Wicks first few years were of survival, letting instincts and healing magic carry through each deadly encounter, knowing that the next battle might be his last. Eventually, what used to be survival instinct became murderous intent, and combat became second nature thanks to one basic law: fight or die. He no longer stood back and supported his companions, but rather went head first into battle, donning his father's armor as his own symbol of revolt against the Dark. He would turn an icon of misery and suffering into one of hope and redemption.


It was no surprise to anyone that he was among the first to join the 6th Crusade, having been waiting for the opportunity for years. His years of constant battle and travelling had hardened him into a brutal warrior, but nothing he had ever done compared to what they experienced. There were no more frequent paths, rests at Sanctuaries, or short trips. Instead, they spent their nights carving into the horde of wraiths, and endless river of death and carnage, while daylight was used for minimum rest and maximum travel efficiency. Wick became well known among the group not only because of his extreme endurance during battle, but because among the Crusaders he was one of the most devoted to the Light. He had always been one to preach and constantly tell stories from the holy scriptures, but it was here where they were most welcomed. Each tale, every lesson, made the other Crusaders remember why they were fighting, and it wasn't uncommon for days to be spent trading stories and interpretations of lessons.


Yet, it seemed that fate wasn't sharing their optimism, for fellow Crusaders kept falling to the wraiths each night, and so did the Crusade when they faced the Necromancer. Wick didn't get a chance to get more than a glimpse, for he was too busy trying his best to heal his comrades. But as good as he was at healing magic, death was better at taking lives, and it wasn't long before night disappeared with the wraiths, the Necromancer, and most of the campaign. Their return to the safety of the Sanctuaries wasn't one of joy and victory, but one of resignation and defeat, for there weren't nearly enough of them left to continue the fight. Wick's faith was still as strong as before, but his optimism wasn't. He hadn't known defeat quite like this, and was now uncertain about the future. The Light was still alive and bright, but this world wasn't anymore, for the Dark's influence was stronger than he had thought. Could they really defeat the Necromancer, or was the world beyond saving?


He spent the remaining years escorting caravans from Sanctuary to Sanctuary, his reputation as a Crusader making it so he had no trouble finding willing parties. Money wasn't a concern of his, and he would rather be paid with favors of food and a place to sleep rather than coins, for he didn't have any plans of settling down. He was waiting for the next Crusade. Hoping that eventually one would be victorious and rid the world of its curse.

Skills and Abilities: Expert healing magic, focused mostly on healing physical wounds (quick and efficient, but leaves permanent scars), but can work on common illnesses. Basic light manipulation. Skilled in physical close quarter combat.

Extra: His combat style consists in charging head first into battle, tanking damage while healing himself and his allies. Uses a one handed mace as his main weapon, with a longsword as a backup. No shield, anything that isn't blocked by armor or dodged can be healed.

 

[GardenParty]

Name: Eliana Rosette


Nicknames: El, Eli, Rose


Character Description: Eliana stand at about 5'9", with a slim figure. Her face and it's features are very pointed, making her have a resting bitch face. Her hair is a strawberry blonde and is grown out s little past her shoulder blades, though it's normally up. There are several areas of her hair where the ends are burnt off, in result of her fire magic.


 


Gender: Female


 


Age: 26


 


Personality: 


+ Charismatic :: Eliana gets along easily with others, finding friendships in the darkest relationships. She can easily relate to others emotions, and is often one to solve problems for other people. She 


+ Quick-Thinker :: Eliana is prone to being in quick developing, bad situations. Because of this, she has learned how to analyze and fix a problem quickly. Difficult situations are a little easier for her to manage, if she can get her feelings in check.


+ Compatible :: Eliana gets along with a lot of people, making her a great teammate and a helpful ally. She can easily mold to fit people's needs.


- Dramatic :: Our fair redhead often finds herself overreacting in dire situations, coming to tears and bad assumptions most of the time.


- Clingy :: Pretty self-explanatory. Eliana finds it hard to detach herself from people.


- Emotional/Sensitive ::  Eliana gets upset very easily, and displays her emotions very publicly. 


 


Backstory: Eliana, born as a blessed one, was raised with high praise and expectations. She was constantly pressed to grow and share her powers, all for the good of others. As a child, Eliana found this frustrating. What if being a Blessed One wasn't what she wanted to be? She had such high expectations set around her that she had yet to meet. Her thinking all changed one fateful night, where Eliana's mother was diagnosed with a sickness incurable by anything in the village. Her father made the daring move to another village, outside of their hallowed grounds and right into the hands of wights. Eliana was moved, immediately reversing her thinking and training harder than she ever could. She HAD to, for the sake of her parents. For the sake of everyone who as lost anything to the Necromancer. She's still working out the whole "hero" profile, but she tries her hardest to use her powers for the good of humanity.


 


Skills and Abilities: Eliana is gifted in light magic, specializing in the use of fire. Her body is fireproof except for, oddly enough, her hair.


Extra: I really love space.

 

[ThisUsernameIsALie]

Name: Nicholas Kaylock
 


Character Image: 

Spoiler

 (Ignore the gun xD) 

Nicknames: Is referred to by his last name with acquaintances, and his first with friends. 


 


Character Description: 6'1"/lean build/173 pounds/Brown hair/Gray eyes/Has a marking on the back of his left-hand: The All-Seeing Eye. 


 


Gender: Male


 


Age: 28 


 


Personality: (May update this later, wanna see how the rp plays out.) 


+Highly intelligent


+Places a high value on wisdom and knowledge.


+/-Cynical


+/-Friendly enough, but distrusting. 


+/-Wants the best for people, but is unscrupulous in doing what he feels he must to accomplish his goals.
-Has little to no faith in any authority.


-While he recognizes that some Blessed are good people, he has no faith in the light itself, instead believing that people create the good or the bad.


 


Backstory: 


Nicholas, as the cliche would suggest, is an orphan. He has no knowledge of his parents, and grew up alone in a small sanctuary, abandoned for his sickly appearance and illness: He was a hemophiliac, born weak, and bleeding incessantly at the smallest cut. And as if fate had not tortured him enough, he was an accursed, and almost no one was willing to take him in. At the age of 9, he was found by a kindly professor on a journey to find a valuable tome, an old man named Kvothe with a passion for teaching. The man took Nicholas back to his home within the University, the last standing academic institution. It stood upon Hallowed ground, protecting it from the Necromancer's endless onslaught. Nicholas fell in love with the university and the small town it resided in, and as a teenager would wander the streets, exploring every nook and cranny available to him. Aside from his regular job, Kvothe took it upon himself to educate Nicholas in every manner he could. This included all of the "typical" subjects, as well as those considered...less typical. Kvothe, though he was neither Blessed nor Accursed himself, was very knowledgeable in both areas of magic. He passed all of this knowledge onto Nicholas. Nicholas took in everything he was shown with boundless enthusiasm, slowly growing his own magical ability 


But, at the age of 21, after he himself had joined the university, the town he loved was set upon, by the last people one would expect. A band of of former crusaders, survivors of a splinter group of the 6th Crusade, as well as blindly faithful to the Light, had come. It was a well known fact that the university had books upon every subject, not discriminating against any knowledge. This included dark magic. The former Crusaders, led by several charismatic (and insane) Blessed, had come to the conclusion that all knowledge of the Dark must be destroyed. There was nothing he could do, having no knowledge of combat. He ran to Kvothe's home, his home, but the man who he saw as his father was not there. Instead, there was a note:


"Nicholas,


I have gone to try to barter with the invaders. 


Chances are slim I will survive.


But I must try.


Take my horse and fly, as far as you can from here, to another sanctuary.


You were the best student I ever had.


I love you, my son."



Nicholas ran to the library, hoping to save his father. But as he came near, a blaze suddenly lit the sky as the library, and the town, was set aflame. He watched as the former crusaders, those who had once tried to protect people, set upon the students and teachers, frenzied in their blind faith to the light. 


Nicholas, left with no choice now, took Kvothe's horse and escaped the Sanctuary. From there on out, he dedicated himself to two things: Learning all he could, and getting vengeance against the Necromancer and his army. He became a gifted Accursed, a warrior of the dark, studying every tome he came across, learning from any Accursed willing to share their knowledge with him, and being taught combat by anyone from a grizzled veteran to a lowly street thief, becoming physically strong, but unable to find a way to cure his illness. 


Skills and Abilities: 


+Very advanced knowledge in all branches of Accursed magic: Ice Manipulation/"Coldness", Necromancy, Darkness.
+Highly proficient in close-quarters combat, but even the slightest wound can be deadly to him. 

 

[Tedronai]

Name: Kumira Shilan (Work In Progress)


 


Nicknames: The Risen


Character Description: Kumira is small standing at 5'3'', though her slender build makes her seem taller. Her constant journeying have developed durable muscles but that exertion combined with the scarcity of food in this post-apocalyptic world have stripped her of most of the padding that might have made a curvaceous body in different times. The regular nocturnal exploration, necessary to further her calling, have left her pale; as though she has not seen the sun for a very long time. This is made all the more stark for the relative darkness of her long black hair. Despite these hardships and the harshness of her body there remains a pair of dark, soulful eyes that can seem hypnotic.


Gender: Female


Age: It’s rude to ask a lady


Personality: Kumira is ambitious. Having grown up with nothing, in a climate of fear, she swore to herself that the same would not be said about her. Though not evil, she has grown up in a world that fears power of the Necromancer and she covets his power. Her relationships with people are a façade, seeing others as pawns that she only needs to learn how they work so that she can move them to serve her own agenda.


Backstory: Kumira grew up in the relative safety of one of the few Sanctuaries across Vime. Her parents were descendants of nobility, but they had long ago lost everything as they’d fled the Wraiths. With no useful skills to combat the hordes, and having lost the power of their status to command their onetime vassals the once majestic family became a dynasty of paranoid, fearful wrecks.


As a child Kumira grew fascinated by the admiration and respect that people showed the Crusaders, only then realising the scorn that was cast her family’s way. Growing to resent them too she tried to distance herself from her kin, but the people who shared the Sanctuary could only ever see her for who she had been, never recognising or rewarding her efforts. Frustrated by this lack of acknowledgement she saw her only option was to leave the safety and stigma behind.


Her first efforts saw her joining a Crusade, wishing to surround herself with the people she aspired too but it proved a hollow experience. Though revered by those too afraid to leave their Sanctuaries, she was shown none of the respect or adoration that she sought. To the resedents of the Sanctuaries they passed she was a pretender, trying to steal the glory of these heroes. To the Crusaders she was a pup, an impediment and the weak link in their already tenuous chain.


Despite this new scorn she continued to follow the crowds, nearly dying several times along the way, earning begrudging respect with each survival. Each small complement was taken as hungrily as a scrap of food thrown to a starving dog, but similarly they could never satiate her. This Crusade was already in its culmination, and though she was too late to join the decisive battle with the Necromancer she saw the aftermath and was awed.


The proud warriors that she had idolised were brought low by this one man, their dignity gone in an instant and in their place were left yet more of the broken, fearful wretches that she had left her home to escape. Disgusted as she was at her fallen heroes, she found herself a new idol. This man had something more powerful than respect; people feared him. In that moment Kumira knew what she had to do.


Skills: Intermediate level Necromancy

 

[Prrrgadilly]

Name: Hendrik Hallowwind
Nicknames: Dimmed One, Shadow, Kindled Dark
Character Description: 6’5” tall, muscular but thin build, eyes glow in the dark, has a 22ft wingspan

Spoiler: Wings

Gender: Male
Age: 56
Personality: Quiet and reserved, Hendrik has spent many years in his own company and is awkward with strangers. He is a kind and caring person but eschews physical contact and closeness to others. He sometimes lashes out at those around him when the sorrow of his curse becomes too much to bear, which he will apologize for immediately afterwards. In his heart of hearts, he wishes for a normal life with friends and family, but would never allow himself to entertain such delusions.

Backstory: Hendrik was once a normal village youth struggling to survive in a world under siege by the Necromancer’s forces. He was a helpful young man who made friends whenever he could and was always willing to lend a helping hand. This selflessness earned him the humorous title of “Kindling Spark” because he was always there to brighten the Light in any situation, no matter how dark. It was because of his helpful nature, that Hendrik would face a lifetime of solitude and sadness. In saving the life of another, Hendrik was cursed, by the Light, with a life forever in the shadows. A winged abomination too dark for Light and too bright for Dark.

Spoiler: Full Bio

Hendrik had been out in the forests hunting down rabbits and gathering nuts to feed himself and the refugees he’d agreed to put up in his home for the night. He lost track of time while hunting, and was only alerted to the coming of night as the miasmic mists began to gather. Hendrik immediately turned back in the direction of his village and ran with all of his might. He made it to the village with plenty of time to spare but was met at the border by the refugees and his neighbors. One of the villagers’ children had yet to come back from the forest. Hendrik offered to search for the child alone; he knew these forest better than they and would not waste precious time.

Following the villagers’ directions to the last place the child was seen, Hendrik found the child and was hightailing it back to hallowed ground just as dusk was nearing its end. Wraiths were appearing from the darkness and making swipes at the duo as Hendrik sprinted for sanctuary. He was able to make it nearly to the border when his ankle was caught in a wraith’s grasp. Falling hard Hendrik kicked out of the wraith’s grasp frantically as he felt the numbing darkness rush up his leg. He lost his grip of the child and was drawn past the border of the hallowed ground as the child was lost to the darkness. Refusing to be saved instead of the child, Hendrik prayed to the light to save the child in exchange for his life.

The Light heard his prayer and awoke the dormant spark of magic within in the child, shielding her in an aura of Light. Braving the attacks of the wraiths, Hendrik left sanctuary to retrieve the girl. Her shield was rapidly shrinking under the relentlessness of the dark. Hendrik endured slashes countless slashes from clawed hands as the shield protected him from outright grabs. Reaching the border, Hendrik was barely able to pass the girl to her weeping mother before her shield failed. Just as he was stepping passed the border, a wraith dug its claws into his back and entered him.

Stepping onto the hallowed ground with the evil trapped inside his body, Hendrik endured a night of indescribable agony as the Light of the sanctuary purified him of the Darkness. When dawn finally broke, Hendrik had been changed. He was no longer of the Light, yet he had not fallen into Darkness. He was literally a shadow. Gone were his easy smile and forgettable features. In their place was a striking and handsome visage, a well-muscled body towering over the villagers, and wings made of condensed shadows had sprouted from his back, brushing the ground in their immense size.

The Light had answered Hendrik’s prayer, and he paid the price; the life he knew was over. Fleeing the village, Hendrik made a life for himself in the lands between sanctuaries. It did not take too long for him to realize that his curse significantly slowed, if not halted, his aging process, and gave him heightened abilities. Hendrik watched the villagers that had been his friends grow old and die away. He watched as the young girl he’d saved became a full grown woman blessed with a powerful gift. Watching people prosper was one of the few consolations left to Hendrik, now. So, molding himself to a predominantly nocturnal lifestyle, Hendrik now helps people the only way he knows how: destroying the Darkness that haunts them.

Skills and Abilities: peerless marksmanship, heightened agility, gliding, ages slowly, condense feathers into projectiles and small weapons, unique combat style involving wings

Theme: Metallica - Nothing Else Matters

 

[IctoraPost]

Name: Robert Kokapufs
Nicknames: Bertie, That Annoying Kid


Character Description: Plain face, plain eyes, plain hair, plain clothing. 4’11” (150 cm) and 88lbs (40kg). The build of a twelve-year-old.


Gender: Male


Age: 12


Personality: Bertie can only be described as “energetic” and “happy”. Living in a world of all sorts of horrendous horrors and terrible terrors, it would be unsurprising, expected, even, that he would be somewhat quiet and reserved. However, he rebels against this idea by running around doing energetic things, forever grinning, and still finding the time to be joyful and full of pent-up energy, all the time. Despite this, though, he loves gaining knowledge and learning all sorts of things – wraiths, farming, languages, science, magic, history, combat, and much more. If he has decided he wants to do something, he will become very determined to see it to the end. Fighting is one of the things he is not very good at, as is trying not to run away as soon as he sees something scary – he’s not all that brave in any kind of dangerous situation. He cannot be trusted with any sort of weapon, as he is as likely to stab himself in the foot as he is to stab the enemy in the face. Still, if there’s nothing to threaten his life, he’s a very cheerful person with a mood that could prove infectious to those around him.


Backstory: Born and raised in a fairly large sanctuary, Bertie lived a life of relative normalcy, given the presence of the nightly attacks of the wraiths. His mother was his mother and his father was his father. His two sisters were his two sisters and his uncle was his uncle. They all lived the usual lives of citizens of the city, doing work, paying tax, and all that good stuff. None were practitioners of magic, whether light or dark, and none were Crusaders, and none were dead. Six people living in the same cramped house had its downsides, but it was far from uncommon. Many even had nine or ten holed up in a single building. The whole family was as normal as could be.


Except for Bertie, that was. He was the anomaly. Instead of playing with his friends or fighting with his sisters, he spent most of his free time in the university library with his nose, eyes and face buried in a book, entrance curtesy of his scholarly uncle. He was entranced by all the knowledge stored in these stacks of paper. If he wanted to know what a ‘sheepcote’ was, he could find out. If he wanted to know the best material to make a dagger with, he could find out. If he wanted to learn how to build a good shelter, he could find out. It completely blew him away.


One day he was out of the library and was actually playing with a few of his friends. It was a game called ‘hide and seek’. But he wasn’t very good at it and kept being found within minutes, mostly due to the fact that he always became impatient and had the urge to start moving around in the open. He decided to consult the books. The determined search eventually lead him to one solution to the problem: to learn the dark arts of the Accursed in order to manipulate the darkness itself and be able to cloak himself in invisibility. So he did. With the help of his intelligent uncle and the support of his family, he managed to become reasonably adept at influencing the blackness to do his bidding, even learning some cold magic along the way. He stayed away from necromancy, though, as he knew that would probably not make people think favourably of him.


Bertie continued living his normal, safe life in the sanctuary, mostly unbothered by the wraiths and having no personal vendetta against the Necromancer or any incentive to adventure into the wilderness.


Skills and Abilities: Has much knowledge about various subjects. Is fairly good at manipulating darkness. Knows a little ice magic. Can run surprisingly fast.


Extra: He also has a cat.

 

[guul66]

Name: Edwyn Rosenborough II
 


Character Image: I'll try to find something later.


Nicknames: None, yet.


 


Character Description: Tall, but in weight a little lighter than your usual noble and a slightly toned build. His eyes are piercing blue, which cover for his battle-worn face and his hair long and light brown.


 


Gender: Male


 


Age: 29


 


Personality: His business is his business and its probably more important than your business, so you better help him or get out of his way, because he isn't afraid to brandish his sword it you annoy him too much. He wants everything to go his way, if it doesn't its someone elses fault, never his. Edwyn thinks he is powerful and in many ways he is, but he often overestimates himself. He is also the type to lie and scam, if it would be in his benefit, one way or another. A positive trait is that he is brave and will will take a shot for someone he would consider friend. But becoming his friend is a whole other deal.


 


Backstory: Edwyn was the son of a quite wealthy noble. Unlike many others he had plenty of space for living, food always on his table and throughout his childhood there was almost no way he could've even gotten hurt. But he had something the peasants didn't have and probably didn't want - expectations. While his woman was more or less a normal woman of higher blood, his father was a famed Crusader, next to his noble duties. Those times his father was home Edwyn was often in training to be a knight as great as his father - didn't matter if he wanted it or not.


Luckily for him, Edwyn had some talent in him. He learned the ways of the blade and the ways of the armor and became near as powerful as his old father. This also meant that he was considered a sort of unaccomplished hero. Many praised him to delight his father, and this praise got to his head. He started to believe that he was greater and that everyone should bow down to him and the only ones he would listen to were his parents.


But then one day his parents lie dead. Murdered, the murderer unknown. And apparently the will had been rewritten and he was given near nothing more, but what he already claimed his. Everything else had gone to a far relative, one Edwyn had known to claim his father's riches for long. Edwyn found it unjust. Of course it was unjust. In an act of desperation he stole his fathers esteemed armor and powerful greatsword and fled, becoming an mercenary, taking near any task that needed doing and often venturing outside the Sanctuary if need be.


 


Skills and Abilities: Excellent Heavy Armor and Greatsword skills. 


Extra: Has a powerful steel greatsword and a set of thick steel armor.

 

[BubbleButt]

Name: Unknown (see nicknames)
 


Character Image: 


His armor





His great sword 





Nicknames: The Grave-Walker


 


Character Description: 


Nobody has seen past his helmet and armor as, according to myth, he was awoken with it. He has a bulky build, being at a height of 7'7, and weighs 280 ibs with the armor on.


 


Gender: Presumably male


 


Age: 


Eras old, died during the year of 1210, reanimated during the fall of the Lightbringer.


 


Personality:


Hollow, empty, unforgiving, dark, unbiased.


 


Backstory:


He died eras ago, serving as a knight in Camelot. He died from blunt force trauma to the head by an attacker wielding a club. He watched over the lands as a spirit, watching it grow, watching it fall, and watching it rebuild again. He had a personal relationship with the Lightbringer as he would be the only one able to talk to the Grave-Walker.


He would talk of the days of Camelot, The Lightbringer would often talk of the darkness the dwells in the lands. One day, he was roaming the lands restlessly as he always does, the next he would be talking to the Lightbringer again. He would more often than not try to ask the Lightbringer to help him escape the spirit world, only to have him refuse.


More time passed on as he wandered the lands, looking for any hope but finding none in the barren wasteland of his spirit world. Suddenly, he felt his body disappearing, his breath escaping, and felt a void of nothingness. He the felt his armor weighing down on him, he felt him being pushed upwards with the darkness that trapped him escaping from all directions. He kneeled down to his knees and looked forward only to see violence and death. 


He was freezing cold but managed to get up. He heard whispers from all around him, then realizing the undead nearby. Seeing the undead coming up from the ground, bones coming outwards from their bodies and flesh hanging from their mutilated faces by a thread of skin sent chills down his spine. He slowly started to walk but felt no vibrations from his large footsteps. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't talk, he couldn't feel pain. His mind was numb, but his body felt stronger and faster. He realized what was happening, he was reanimated by someone who is cursed. He ran as far as he could so he could regain his thoughts.


He managed to escape and relax. But he never felt relaxed, no matter what he did. All he could taste was blood and dirt and felt his scars from long ago carve deep in to his soul. He felt nothing but pain and suffering and he saw nothing but the violence inflicted on the lands he had wondered for ages. All he could do was wonder now, nothing but wondering until he had broken and finally met the urge to kill mortals in frustration and destroy the lands he was cursed to wonder for eras. For now, however, he would wonder, avoiding interaction until he can finally leave this cruel, violence filled, unforgiving world.


After enough time wondering he finally learned the Lightbringer had caused all of the chaos. He was now known as the Necromancer but all he saw him as was a walking corpse, waiting to be ended. He was sick of the games, he was sick of the darkness, the pain, the blood, and the light that pierced the darkness, he just wanted to die. The only way he knew how to free his tormented soul was to take down the Necromancer once and for all. From then on he would help crusaders attack the Necromancer, not only to free his soul but to help resist his urge to join the darkness.


 


Skills and Abilities:


He is immortal and cannot be killed by any means. That is why people call him the grave-walker.


Has the combat ability of a master swordsman due to his time being alive as a knight.


He knows people's history, name, and personality, without having to be told.


Extra:

 

[Firebright]

Name: Alamara Verona Birch
 


Character Image: 


Nicknames: Aly


 


Character Description: She is 5'1, and slim. She uses her tiny size to her advantage when fighting. Her eyes are light hazel colored and her hair a dark chestnut color. 


 


Gender:Female


 


Age:19


 


Personality: She is quite when you first get to know her. She likes to remain hidden in the background, once you get close to her, though, she has a firey personalty. She is loyal to those she loves even if they do not deserve her loyalty. She hopes for the best even when no hope is left. If you ask her she will tell you, that is the only reason she is still alive. Once she sets her mind to something there is no dissuading her. she is clever and witty which comes from books she used to read as a child. Lastly she had a big mouth. She generally says what first comes to mind without any worries. She often gets irritated by her memory gaps. 


 


Backstory:Alamara can not remember much. She grew up in a sanctuary with three sisters. Alamara was the second oldest. Her inclinations were towards reading and writing. Any book that existed in the sanctuary was read by her. Then her father went off to join the crusades. She doesnt remember how she got outside the sanctuary but she woke laying in the dirt and mud. She stood to stumble back home but her sanctuary was burning. She found her house destroyed, her family lying dead. She was left no memory of why she was out of the sanctuary or who had attacked and killed her family and is now driven by vengeance. Determined to find out who did this and make them pay. 


 She found another sanctuary in which to stay, she lived with a woman called Mona. Mona was well trained in combat. When she learned how Alamara was bent on revenge she trained her and together they discovered Alamara's blessed gift for pyromancy. After Alamara was satisfied with her training she went off in search of her revenge and the answers she desired.  Promising to come back to visit Mona some day. to thank her.


 


Skills and Abilities: Pyromancy, can call flames at will but can also some times use other gifts of light. Only if she is lucky though. her flames are more ball of white hot energy than actual flames. She fights with a staff very well and wears very light slippers so that she can climb walls and other such things easily.  


"I don't know if you noticed but this war, so now is probably not the best time for you to pull a short joke."

 

[Drakonin]

Name: Sam Drakonin
 


Character Image:


 


Nicknames: Sammy


 


Character Description: 5'11" lean and strong. white hair. scarlet tattoos.


 


Gender: Male


 


Age: 17


 


Personality:  can be sarcastic and cocky. always sticks up for the innocent and his friends. can hold up in a fight very well for how young he is


 


Backstory:  Sam at birth was destined to work for killing. the tattoos on his body were done magically when he was a baby. He was trained as an Assassin since he was 7 year old. His sword skills are like no other. his white hair makes him stand out. his father was harsh for he wanted a warrior in his family and not a cowardly assassin. he believe that the warriors are the true heros during battles. but sam has killed more then any warrior and it haunts him. he puts on a mask for the public and his one friend. Arthur. when they were young Arthur was a mage. he specialized in all magic and taught sam the elemental magic so he could defend himself at a range. But when they were 15 they were sent on a mission together to go kill one of the evil necromancers. Sam got in through the window while Art would distract the Wraths. the necromancer the walked out of the front gate and kill Art by stabbing him in that back with a poisoned dagger. he was dead in seconds. Sam jumped off the window. blinked behind the monster and cut his head from his shoulder. he got home and cried for months. he grabbed his Arthurs ring. it was 2 dragons next to a sword with ruby in the center. this was his now. he can still hear Arts screams. His Laugh. He now wants revenge to all Wraths and necromancers





 


Skills and Abilities: Very good with a sword. Blinking (short teleport up to 20 meters) elemental spells


Extra: Blinking requires as much energy as lifting a finger for him.

 

[XxBetaWolfxX]

Name: Julian Salvador


Character Image: 

Nicknames: Ju or Jules


 


Character Description: 6'3 tall, Blonde neck height hair.,Toned/179lbs, his left side of his upper body is mostly burnt


 


Gender:Male


 


Age:16


 


Personality: Julian is mostly an outgoing person who is kind and caring but snarky and sarcastic. In very rare occasions he can be to himself and calm and quiet.  


 


Backstory:When Julian was born his Mom died from giving birth to him. His dad took this the wrong way and blamed him for it. From the day he was born his family neglected him and beat him for no purpose. Julian never had much friends and no one to count on so he was alone for most of his life. That is until he turned 13 the wraiths came and attacked his village and killed about everyone. One of the Wraiths set his house on fire while his family was inside he just came from a walk from the forest and the Wraith seen him and threw some fireballs his way. One hit him on his back but mostly on his left side of his body. Frightened and in pain he ran and ran from his home and never did went back.Around the age of 14 he met some guy around the age of 16 who knew how to fight really well and could do magic. The guy name was Alexander he took Julian under his wing once he knew Julian's story. Alex thought Julian all the different elemental magic he knew which was mostly fire and lightning and teleportation but Julian could only grasps the teleportation and the lightning skills so Alex trained him on that. The fighting came natural with thieves and other things that go bump in the night tried to either kills us or steal something. When Julian turned 15 him and Alex was in a mild intimate relationship that blossomed over the year and Julian felt safe for once in his life until the day the Wraiths came once again and this time they kidnapped Alex and Julian was left alone again. So Julian promised to himself that he would get Alex back and kill anyone who stopped him.


 


Skills and Abilities:Lightning:


(Most skills is age based with Julian as he grows his powers grows)


Lightning manipulation: Can conjure lightning weapons like whips and swords. Creates lightning bolts and such things.Can generate electricity within his body but haven't fully developed it.


Teleportation: He can teleport to anyplace he remembers and any place in can see within 20ft. 


Fighting Skills:


Skilled basic karate skills and intermediate with weapons.


Excellent at throwing knives and ninja stars.

 

[Coyote]

Name:  Qure Saxon


Character Image:





Nicknames: Silent


 


Character Description: 


Height- 5'9


Weight- 168 lbs


Signature feature- white and mostly featureless mask


Muscle build- extremely lean and nimble but still strong enough to pack a punch


If you remove his mask you'll see a blackened, almost charred scar over his left eye and also find that his left eye is also completely black. His right eye is normal and a stormy grey.


Gender: Male


 


Age: 24


 


Personality: Quiet. Silent got his nickname because no one in his village really knew his name. He normally keeps to himself. He's hospitable, friendly, helpful, and even maybe a little funny sometimes if you get him to warm up to you. He just never talks and for the most part, avoids socializing. 


 


Backstory: As a child, Silent was as bold and daring as they get. In fact, Silent's older brother went to fight in the Sixth Crusade. Silent was determined to join what he believed was the Crusade to defeat the darkness. So much so, that when things turned South he refused to believe it. Despite everyone telling him it was hopeless to join, he did, mostly because he wanted to join his brother in battle. However, when he got there, he was met with a grim reality check. The morale of the Crusaders were worn close to nill and.... to Qure's horror, his brother had just died in the previous battle. There wasn't much left of the body. Upon seeing such a fate reach his brother, Qure was filled with anger and vengeance. Throughout the last year of the crusade, Qure risked life and limb on the front lines of the Crusaders. That was until, one battle took him out of the fight for good. Qure took a blast of dark magic directly to his face, particularly his left eye. In a miraculous way, he survived, but was blinded and scarred. The result was his current appearance. That wasn't it though. The dark magic poisoned him. Qure was in such agony that he screamed and yelled for days and nights on end, to the point where he suffered permanent damage to his vocal cords. When the pain finally subsided, Qure was never the same again. The Crusade had ended and Qure was thankfully already far from the battlefield when he found out about its failure. He never spoke a word again, hoping to desperately forget all his experiences against the Darkness. Even now, he still has horrid nightmares but he doesn't dare scream anymore. Silent wished nothing more than to be alone. He found a small village, where he attained his new nickname, to live in and decided that he would go out of his not to bother anyone. Of course, people would invite him to festivals and village gatherings but even when he attended, people found him to be so distanced, they couldn't gather the courage to even approach him. So Silent lived a quiet life. Using his new distorted powers he ventures out of the Sanctuary (the town resides by its border) and searches for anyone who might've found themselves lost. He still wants to save lives from the darkness. Silent's biggest fear is coming to care for someone and losing them to the Dark. So he does everything he can to save anyone he can. How he does this will be explained now.


 


Skills and Abilities: Silent was originally able to control plants. However, since being hit by the dark magic, his plants have been transformed into a much more sinister form. Thorny, deadly, and poisonous, as opposed to the steady, reliable, and quite simply, plant-like plants he had before. Now they're much more dark and fearsome. Although Silent has been able to control, their role in battle have actually changed from being supportive, to entirely offensive. The other power is his ability to become invisible. Not to people. Only to the undead. Being hit by the dark magic allowed Silent to use his scars and poisoned soul to mask his presence. It would take a very powerful magician to undo this but for most common undead creatures, he can make himself invisible. Note that he cannot move through them. If a wraith bumped into him and attacked him, the wraith could still damage him, but Silent is more nimble than that. His weapon is a katana. Nothing special about it other than he could use it to manipulate plants. 


Extra: 

 

[Enkerzed]

Name: Ricard Alonzo
 


Character Image:

Spoiler

Nicknames: Darksight, Prince of the Caravans


 


Character Description: Long black hair / Amber eyes / Pale white skin / 6'11 height / Lean build / Scar over left eyebrow / Impressive facial hair


 


Gender: Male


 


Age: 29


 


Personality: Soft spoken but assertive, Ricard does not hesitate to speak his mind in the rare event that he does so, but is considerate enough to frame his words in a dignified and respectful manner. Still, as polite as he may be, he has for the most part a very serious and grim demeanor that distances himself from others. Having protected caravans for most of his life, he has seen just as much death and fought as many battles as any Crusader, if not more so, thus he avoids learning too much about a person beyond their names so as to lessen the pain of their eventual loss. Despite shunning company, Ricard is also fiercely protective, especially of caravans and the people who accompany them; and he is lethally hostile towards anyone or anything that would present itself as a threat. To the precious few he counts as friends, Ricard shows a considerable amount of care, but even then he can be somewhat aloof, more cold than warm no matter how much he tries to be the latter.


 


Backstory: Having grown up in the same Sanctuary as Liffis Kai, Ricard's childhood was also of scampering around high places and dark corridors. Unlike most of the other children however, Ricard had been born to parents who were both caravan riders and as travel was all the more dangerous for those less than able-bodied, he spent much of his youth being raised only by his mother, the father continuing to guard the caravans and only appearing once or twice a season.



to be continued...
 


Skills and Abilities:

• Master swordsman. Known for being swift and precise with the blade.
  
• Darksight allows for clear vision in the dark without the assistance of light and seeing through the invisibility of others. Eyes glow orange during use and becomes more strained the longer the.duration.
  
• Expert shadowcaster. Able to use dark magic to blend into the shadows.
  
• Intermediate cryomancer. Able to freeze an opponent in their tracks at a short range, rendering them immobile.
  

Extra:

 

[SirDerpingtonIV]

Name: Sir Davis Eizen


Character Image: 


Nicknames: Disgraced Knight, Guardian, 
 
Character Descriptipn: Davis stands at a towering 6'2, with a muscular build common of those who dedicate themselves to the Crusade.  His short brown hair was usually unkempt, and his pale blue eyes cold and serious.  His facial features are as blocky and serious as his demeanor, making him rather hard to approach with his perpetual frown.

Gender: Male
 
Age: 29
 
Personality: Disillusioned and cynical, Davis is a cold, harsh Man.  He has lost faith in the crusaders, caring little for others.  As cold and cruel as he may seem, he is driven for the death of the Necromancer, and perhaps, hopefully, some way to save Elaine.  
 
Backstory:


Having been the heart of a kingdom of the same name, Tangrine kept strong in its traditions, particularly its custom of pairing powerful Blessed with the region's greatest Knights, to act as their protectors.  After all, Blessed were rarer in Tangrine than in other Sanctuaries, perhaps because of the sheer power of Cursed magic that had dwelled within the surrounding region before the Lightbringer came through.  In fact, they were so valued that a Knight's primary duty was guarding the Blessed assigned to them.  A knight would guard his (or in rare cases, her) Blessed until one of them died.  During this time, they are married to the Light, and are sworn to Celibacy, even from each other.  If the Knight dies, then the Blessed is simply given another Knight.  However, if the Blessed dies, the Knight is disgraced, and in extreme cases, may even be exiled from Tangrine.   


Hailing from the highly militaristic Sanctuary of Tangrine, Davis spent his childhood learning to fight.  Son of an influential Priestess and a Crusading Knight,  Davis' childhood was spent learning the art of war.  Practicing during the day and venturing with his father into the night to battle Wraiths, Davis was quick to surpass his peers.  After age 16, he even began occasional lone journeys from the Sanctuary, equipped in full armor.  These journies were rough, and many in the community frowned upon Davis' father for forcing his son to such extremes, but in the end no one stopped him, even after a few narrow misses with death outside the Sanctuaey.  So, when it came to his coming of age ceremony at age 18, he had no shortage of skill or experience.  This stood out to the High Priest, who declared him a Knight and paired him with a Blessed.  His abilities, being beyond those of his peers, placed him with the most promising of the Blessed, a charming young woman named Elaine, with incredible power.  


Elaine and Davis were quick to bond as they began training together under jurisdiction of the Church.  Just as he was taught, he began to protect her.  From Wraiths, from Cursed, from bandits and beasts, and even her peers and insecurities.  The two were quick to bond, and soon enough he no longer guarded her out of duty, rather out of friendship and love.  In turn, she protected him, healing his wounds and using her gifts to keep him safe from the Wraiths whenever the two ventured out into the night as part of their training.  Elaine even began to use her gifts on inanimate objects such as weapons and armor, filling them with her protection and power.


It became apparent after four years of training, that Elaine's gifts were more than just that of a prodigy.  With powers strong enough to hold back and kill entire swarms of Wraiths, all the while keeping her companions unharmed.  It was an incredible sight, truly, and many even believed Elaine to be a sort of Chosen One, the Second Lightbringer, destined to cast down the evil Necromancer.


Caravan travel between sanctuaries had always been awfully slow, but the hope surrounding Elaine was infectious, and soon enough, nearly every other Sanctuary that Tangrine had contact with was filled with the same fervor, a righteous anger, gathering like storm clouds for only one thing.  A Crusade.


it took only a month for the Crusade to set forth, a host of thousands, composed of men and women from all Sanctuaries that would heed them.  At Davis' request, Elaine agreed to save her powers, to not use them to protect the army and fight off the Wraiths.  She would need everything she could to battle the Necromancer, after all.  However, the one thing she had been insistent on, was that she heal the wounded.  And that she did, saving a great many Crusaders as they marched their seemingly endless march through the wilds, hunting down the ever elusive necromancer.  Each night, Davis fought by her side, mowing down tides of Wraiths like a great machine.  


Months jn, longer than any other crusade had lasted, the army's scouts warned of a massive horde of undead approaching, perhaps even led by the Necromancer himself.  The hour before the battle, the two sat beneath an ancient oak tree, dead and withering, but still standing.  They spoke of the battle to come, of the Necromancer, and what they would do once the Necromancer was defeated.  The two, overwhelmed with the moment, shared a kiss and a whispered confession of love, before returning to the army for the battle that would decide their fates.


Weakened from months of attrition and loss to Wraith attacks, the Crusader army stood little chance against the Necromancer's Horde of undead.  None the less, they surged on, rallying around Elaine.  All those who gazed upon her found themselves filled with hope and courage.  Surely, after all this way, she couldn't fail?  Davis himself carved a path, massacring dozens of Wraiths with his mace, fueled by both righteous fury and love.  Strengthened by hope, the Crusaders tore their way to the center of the horde, where Elaine, Davis, and a few other knights encountered the Necromancer.


Davis would never forget that face, so passive and emotionless as he stood in the midst of the army, an island among a sea of Wraiths.  Elaine  raised her arms, and with a mighty, almost blinding glow, prepared an attack.  And then, everything fell apart.  A tide of Wraiths surged forward, and as much as Davis tried, he could not hold them back.  The monsters tore Elaine apart, her screams echoing across the battlefield as Davis fought his way to her, smashing Wraith's aside with his mace.  


He was too late.  Elaine's corpse was nowhere to be found.  his knees then, as the Crusade's shattered survivors fled the battlefield.  He did not mourn or scream in anguish, only sit in stunned silence, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.  In that moment, he had been utterly disgraced.  He did not need to return to Tangrine to know he had been exiled.  In fact, the exiling ceremony was preformed without him even being there for it.  


Had Elaine simply been killed in battle with the Necromancer, perhaps he would have been forgiven for his failure, but defeated by Wraiths, and worse than that, possessed?  They would hate him, almost as much as he hated himself for his failure.  Despite the depression he sunk into, he still ventured out every night from whatever Sanctuary he resided in at the time.  And, every night, he would find her again.  The first time, he had thought it a miracle, that she had returned to him somehow, only to see those empty black eyes and a face frothing with animalistic rage as she threw herself at him.  Her pale skin was tinged with lines of black, as if her veins were pumping something foul through them.  Her dress always seemed to be coated with dark-colored vomit and the odd blood that Wraiths carried.  He could not bare to look at her, just as he could not bare to ignore her.  


Every night it was the same.  She would never seem to respond to him with anything other than pure hatred, and he could never do anything other than simply hold her off.  He didn't know whether killing her would kill her for good, and he could never bring himself to do that, something inside of him hoping desperately that there was some way to save her, despite him knowing full well there was no way.


As rumors spread of yet another powerful Chosen Maiden, Davis set out seeking her.  He would help her against the Necromancer, in some vague hope that she would be able to save Elaine after the defeat of the Necromancer.


Skills and Abilities:
Veteran: A Veteran of the sixth crusade, and an incredibly talented warrior in it, Davis wields his mace with incredible skill.  He is no stranger to fighting both Wraiths and Cursed Ones, and is truly a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield.
Strengh: Davis is gifted with impressive might, allowing him to carry the great weight of his armor and weapons easier.  He has kept his strength up since the last crusade, constantly training his body to be ready for the next Crusade.
Armor and Shield: Davis' armor is of high quality, providing invaluable protecting during combat.  Additionally, it was enchanted with Elaine's power to protect against dark forces, although this enchantment is rapidly fading as Elaine obviously cannot renew it.


Extra: (WIP)

 

[GreenEyedStranger]

Name:  Riposte
 


Appearance:


 Riposte is covered in a strange, obviously foreign attire. Very light and thin sheet metal covers him above an extremely flamboyant and extravagant set of white cloth. It is as if he was some sort of royalty, sent to battle in the middle of an important affair. The most bizarre feature of him is his mask that he wears in combat. Although technically a full helmet, the outside of it is decorated with a large, equally as flamboyant cap. The face portion is sectioned off with an extremely unsettling face, stuck in a horrific grin.

Nicknames: 


-Parry


-The Fencer


 


Character Description: 


Skinny build, relatively tall, though not noticeably taller than most.


Has hair dyed green, a common practice for people in his country. His skin is mostly white, but with obvious hints of red.


 


Gender:


 Male


 


Age:


19 


Personality:


When not in combat, Riposte is usually quiet. Has a tendency to think that people are always talking behind his back, and will occasionally intrude on others privacy to make sure that is not the case. When approached, Riposte is friendly and uses self-deprecating humor, but if he feels insulted he can quickly turn the aggression on them. Is extremely averse to talking about sensitive subjects, and will quickly try to evade them. 


Unfortunately, he inadvertently alienates himself due to his mental disability, lying on the autistic spectrum.


In combat, Riposte is always hopping around and quick to the draw. Best described as opportunistic, he quickly releases his repressed rage when he sees the opportunity. Rarely strikes first, instead waiting for an opportunity to turn the opponents mistake into his gain.


 


Backstory:


 Riposte is from a land, somewhere to the east. It is said that the people there not only live differently, but that in combat they use such wild practices that they are feared far and wide. Riposte was raised in these strange combat arts, and quickly excelled thanks to what his people called a gift. Others viewed it as a mental problem, but it allowed him to focus solely on combat. Even then, his practice helped him discipline the disability into a quiet hush. Now, instead of having full on seizures when not holding a blade, he simply stops talking. Being a savant when it came to fencing, he was unchallenged as one of the greatest duelists of his age. In order to prove his worth, his mentors sent him on a quest to distant lands, as so many of his ancestors did to claim their glory.


 


Skills and Abilities:


Prodigy Fencer:


-When equipped with his trusty rapier (Which he has named Rocinante, after a trusty steed of popular lore), his skill with a blade knows no bounds. Can effortlessly parry incoming attacks and strike with surgical precision. Was trained to always go for fatal strikes, and will always attempt to do so.


-Thanks to years of footwork training, Riposte is extremely quick and nimble. Can dodge attacks in a moment and lunge forward for a killing blow in the next


Far Wanderer:


-Used to extremely long and monotonous hikes


-Carries trophies from his previous expedition:


       - A pair of throwing 'bolas' used to catch running opponents, though Riposte has trouble learning to use this


       - A bag with several smoke bombs in them, used for a quick getaway.


       - A blowpipe, and a few darts (None of which have any coating)


Extra: 

 

[Proletariat]

Name: Detmar Blood-Axe



Character Image:

Spoiler

Nicknames: Savage, Bjorn, Bear, Ox





Character Description: Detmar is best categorized as an unkempt wall of meat and ink. He towers over the tallest man by a head and he appears to weigh the same as a bear. Detmar never wears armor and typically only has clothing on his lower half. His body is riddled with tribal and runic tattoos that mark him for greatness and tell the story of an eternally vengeful spirit, materialized in human form to bring permanent death to the wraiths. He has a long braided beard, bound by leather and capped with a ring at the end. Typically his beard has better hygiene than he does, he oils it every night and washes it as well. Underneath his fearsome helmet is a tangled mess of shoulder length brown hair that almost never gets taken care of and usually only sees the light of day when he dives in a lake for a bath. The only 'armor' that he ever wears are fur lined leather shoulder pads and arm guards so he can keep swinging his axe for extended periods of time without taking arm injury.





Gender: Male (don't assume it)





Age: ??? Roughly late twenties early thirties





Personality: Bjorn is probably more animal than man. He hardly speaks, and when he does it is to talk about grog, or killing wraiths. He is a man forged from a different mold than most, he has a savage heart and it is only by luck that he and his fellow humans have a common enemy. He is fueled by a blazing rage that never seems to die, it is only quelled when he has killed all the wraiths there are to kill, or he gets so badly injured he can't continue to fight. It is for this reason he is marked with hideous scars on his shoulders and chest. Inside of him there is a clear wound, one that causes him to act in the way that he does. For the last several years he has made it his mission to become a savage with only distant connections to other humans, not allowing anyone to get close to him.


Backstory: Nothing is known about Detmar Blood-axe's past. There are several rumors about him in those small and ambiguous circles to which he is known, some say he was born outside of the sacred ground on which all modern cities stand. They whisper that he was born to a tribe that lived in the wraithlands that somehow survived for an extended period of time. Perhaps an outpost stable shed as a result of a crusade, or perhaps a product of some ancient culture that survived outside of the walls. Others say that he was born in the slums of the remaining cities that cram every human being known to the planet into their walls. What is known contemporarily about the bear is that he loves going on missions to destroy wraiths. He is said to be able to slaughter dozens of wraiths at a time, cutting them down in swaths with his mighty two handed axe, "Skalle Krossa". The darker rumors say that he has killed humans too, in his moments of rage, but that has never been confirmed. Mostly any authorities stay clear of him if they can, he is known to be extremely dangerous and not subject to reason.





Skills and Abilities:


- Bear Strength: Detmar is one of the strongest human beings alive. He can cleave groups of enemies in a single swing, he can also pick up most people and carry them like they were children.


-Wild Adrenaline: His immense blood rage sends him into a frothing angry paroxysm wherein he feels no pain, but also may attack allies if they get in his way.


- Skalle Krossa: Detmar's weapon of choice is a massive two handed axe with a razor sharp edge. The butt of the axe is also sharpened to work as a smaller hatchet type blade. The pommel is fitted with a blunt metal surface for stunning attacks and intermediate strikes that throw the enemy off guard.


-Great vitality: Even without his rage, he is extremely hard to bring down.


-Runic protection: His mystical runic tattoos slightly reduce the damage he takes from magic.


-Survival: Regardless of the truth behind his past, Detmar can survive in almost any setting, it isn't so much a skill as it is his will to survive.


Extra: Detmar rarely speaks, and usually doesn't care for fancy folk and their waste of breath known as words. Though he has been known to talk significantly more when there is grog in him. Most folk are too afraid of his appearance and the rumors to try to get to know him.

 

[Enkerzed]

Name: Alamara Verona Birch [ORPHANED]
 


Character Image: View attachment 249975


Nicknames: Aly


 


Character Description: She is 5'1, and slim. She uses her tiny size to her advantage when fighting. Her eyes are light hazel colored and her hair a dark chestnut color. 


 


Gender:Female


 


Age:19


 


Personality: She is quite when you first get to know her. She likes to remain hidden in the background, once you get close to her, though, she has a firey personalty. She is loyal to those she loves even if they do not deserve her loyalty. She hopes for the best even when no hope is left. If you ask her she will tell you, that is the only reason she is still alive. Once she sets her mind to something there is no dissuading her. she is clever and witty which comes from books she used to read as a child. Lastly she had a big mouth. She generally says what first comes to mind without any worries. She often gets irritated by her memory gaps. 


 


Backstory:Alamara can not remember much. She grew up in a sanctuary with three sisters. Alamara was the second oldest. Her inclinations were towards reading and writing. Any book that existed in the sanctuary was read by her. Then her father went off to join the crusades. She doesnt remember how she got outside the sanctuary but she woke laying in the dirt and mud. She stood to stumble back home but her sanctuary was burning. She found her house destroyed, her family lying dead. She was left no memory of why she was out of the sanctuary or who had attacked and killed her family and is now driven by vengeance. Determined to find out who did this and make them pay. 


 She found another sanctuary in which to stay, she lived with a woman called Mona. Mona was well trained in combat. When she learned how Alamara was bent on revenge she trained her and together they discovered Alamara's blessed gift for pyromancy. After Alamara was satisfied with her training she went off in search of her revenge and the answers she desired.  Promising to come back to visit Mona some day. to thank her.


 


Skills and Abilities: Pyromancy, can call flames at will but can also some times use other gifts of light. Only if she is lucky though. her flames are more ball of white hot energy than actual flames. She fights with a staff very well and wears very light slippers so that she can climb walls and other such things easily.  


"I don't know if you noticed but this war, so now is probably not the best time for you to pull a short joke."

 

[Zoltan]

Name: Dietrich von Ewiger



Character Image:

Spoiler

Nicknames: Daemonkin





Character Description: He typically wears a grey cloak, revealing only his face. When in combat, he'll almost always shed his cloak off, as it gets in the way of swift movement. His eyes always carry the pink tinge seen in his image.





Gender: Male





Age: 60





Personality: Shrewd from his years alive, Dietrich will easily make a seemingly difficult and immoral choice if it means the betterment of something. He comes off as rather impersonal, and doesn't enjoy small talk. Although, he does enjoy conversing of philosophies and different disciplines of science... The trouble is, he hasn't come across anyone that enjoys it. Dietrich prefers to get down to business, and not beat around the bush.





Backstory: Ever since being a young boy, Dietrich was amazed by the possibilities of magic. Elemental, healing, destruction, illusion; if you can name it, then he's most likely read into all the texts available. However, his appetite for knowledge continued to grow exponentially and his interests began to spread out into the more evil, corrupt, side of magic. Even though his study of black magics are most intriguing to him, he's taken every precaution to not be seduced by the grotesque, yet amazing, power of the dark. Many, however, have vilified him for undertaking experiments and studies of necromancy. Most recently, Dietrich's dark experiments began to reach a new height of "horror": self-modification. He hunted a particular Wraith, who had been responsible for brutalizing a farmer's livestock and children, for several days. When Dietrich came across the abomination, he obliterated its body, save for one limb: its right arm. Upon arriving back at Dietrich's home, he immediately began the implantation procedure he drafted beforehand. Something went awry, however. After severing his right arm manually and attaching the Wraith arm, Dietrich could not fully contain the vile power of the disembodied arm as it began to dissolve and eat away his organs from the inside out, even to the point that Dietrich's abdomen was fully disintegrated aside from his spine. Acting through the intense pain, he placed a seal on its power from spreading further through his body. Using necromatic energy, Dietrich was able to replace his entrails with a purple/pink electricity that would keep him alive. Now that he's reached such a level of experimentation, there's no telling how far he'll go next time...


Skills and Abilities: Dietrich is a very experienced sorceror, he can call upon many different variants of magic. His newfound arm has greatly strengthened his use of the black magics, and its harder-than-steel properties make it excellent for blocking or slashing if an enemy gets too close to him. Aside from his arm, he lacks physical talent.


Extra:

Spoiler