The Cleansing of Eldor [Rules and Sign-ups]

Heartsteal

Heartsteal

That guy who's not around much right now
Rules:


1. No god modding or meta-gaming; some simple stuff really.


2. Avoid one line posts as much as possible, just adding a sensory detail to your actions can go a long way.


3. Try to use proper grammar and spelling, it's okay to make mistakes, so just try your best.


4. This, is a strict rule. I will not accept OOC posts in the rp itself. If you must make an OOC post, do so in the OOC and info thread, not in the roleplay.


Character Skeleton:


For more detailed information about the character sheet, refer to the info thread.


Name:


Age:


Gender:


Species:


Magic:


Appearance:


Brief History:


Other:


For other information:


The Idea


The Info and OOC
 
Name: Scyra Blaceye


Age: 22


Gender: Male


Species: Human


Magic: Scyra's magic works with the mind although most of his is inwards. Scyra can read thoughts which is his only ability that extends beyond himself but for the most part he can only hear the outer most thoughts though if he tries hard and long enough he can reach inner thoughts as well though his leaves him open and those sensitive enough can sense him. Scyra on one rare occasion was able to see someone's memories but has not been able to do it since. Scyra is able to see into the future though it comes on and off and the most reliable one is a few minutes into the future. Scyra can also send his own thoughts out as well.


Appearance: http://i225.photobucket.com/albums/dd40/PainfulxLies/Neon Knight/sho6kn.jpg


Brief History: Scyra was born half-blind and cannot see out of his left eye. Still Scyra has worked hard all of his life mostly in the service to the Orcs. First he worked in an Orcs home but then was sold at the age of eleven to a brothel. Up until he was nineteen did Scyra work there. He eventually ran away from it and now lives in a slum area working in a bar to get himself by. Scyra does not remember his parents well but he is almost positive that they are dead. Scyra tells no one of his blindness and also performs magic tricks sometimes to assume kids.


Other:





Name: Tor


Age: 17


Gender: Female


Species: Human


Magic: Tor has very little magic it appears so far. She can only use fire magic and it is so weak that she generally uses it to light candles and heat up water and herself and sometimes others.


Appearance: http://i225.photobucket.com/albums/dd40/PainfulxLies/Neon Knight/asuka111.jpg


Brief History: Tor was born Niinji Proulies and into a reasonably well family although they eventually become poor when she was around five. It was also around this time that Niinji was taken from her home. Niinji does not recall what had transpired between her parents and the men who had sold her off into an Orcs home but all she knows is that her family did not struggle to keep her as she was the fifth child in her house. Once she got into her new home she was renamed Tor by the master of the house an Orc who was sometimes nice and sometimes cruel. At first Tor worked as a maid, cleaning the house and taking care of small things but when she began to develop she became a bedwarmer to one of the sons in the house along with her current duties. Tor has forgotten most of her life outside the way she lives now.


Other: Tor has taken a medicine that has prevented her from getting pregnant.


I hope they are okay but I will edit if need be.
 
Name: Synod Valethos


Age: 227


Gender: Male


Species: Elven


Magic: Elemental Druidism. This means,although he cannot command wildlife,can command the natural elements of the world around him,including fire. He has a fond spot for stone magicks.

View attachment 3218


His staff contains a very large garnet in the crook.


Brief History: Synod was a druid to his tribe,which was situated near the edge of the jungle. They lived a peaceful existance,with hunters,foragers,and elders. However,when the Orcish empire expanded,their tribe was the first hit; When the Orcs put the jungle to the torch for their expansion,Synod tried his best to repel the flames and orcish hordes,but there were simply too many,wielding strange sticks that spat fire and death. He had no choice but to run,as the dryads died around him,and his kinsmen scattering to the far corners of the jungle. Since that day,Synod has sworn off the use of fire magic,and the memory of his fallen tribe still haunts him to this day.


Other: Synod will not use fire magic. He is also a bit of a coward;He lacks the courage to tie his life with another living thing to become a dryad,however he deeply respects those that do make the commitment. He also preffers to keep himself alive if he sees the cause as lost.
 
Name: Pabla Bissley


Age: Became a Dryad at 196, has stopped counting since.


Gender: Female


Species: Elf


Magic: Due to being a dryad, Pabla has a natural gift of ecological empathy, her true magical skill lies in her abilities to cast illusions. Hallucinations and mirages that come alive at her very whim from the forest surrounding her, or the powders and vials she carries with her.


Appearance:

dryad_by_shley77-d2xpbi3.jpg

Brief History: As an elf, Pabla was one of the few lookouts for one of the many elven communities inside the forests reaches. Patrolling the area in a fast pace she was on the lookout for orcs that were encroaching on their territory and warning the closest of her kind. One of the trees on her usual route caught her every time she passed it; it was a feeling that had been explained time and time again. Knowing that she couldn’t be separated from nature any longer, she took on the spirit of the tall tree she had passed every day.


This became her lifeline, as she was now a dryad and more physically in tune with nature then she had ever been.


Other: Orc territory is getting closer and closer to the tree that holds her life.
 
APPROVED!!


Just waiting on the crowd that showed interest. Feel free to invite members to the rp guys!
 
[MENTION=646]Xx-Katherine-xX[/MENTION]


[MENTION=1530]Mr. Grin[/MENTION]


The Signups have been posted; if you're still interested, I need those characters before I can begin!
 
I will post my character sheets tomorrow. I just now got home from Georgia and we're up early to take my nephew to the airport. Night, y'all! ;D
 

Name:


Natura Luce Amora


Age:


17


Gender:


Female


Species:


Elves


Magic:


She has the power to control light and plants.


Appearance:


images



Brief History:


Natura was born on May 3 in a small grove in one of the largest forest of Eldor. She grew up in a second, larger grove. Over the period of her life she learned to use her magic and at age 15 she was given permission from her parents to leave. She took the chance and left her home. She was now leaving the responsibility of watching the children to the second oldest sister, Silenzio. Now that she has been gone for a full two years, Silenzio will be 15 and granted permission to leave the grove. Natura has silently been wondering if she will run into her little sister.





Other:


--


Name:


Silenzio Rosa Amora


Age:


15


Gender:


Female


Species:


Elf


Magic:


She has the power to silence people.


Appearance:


images
Brief History:


Silenzio was born on December 4. She grew up with her older sister, Natura, her mother, and her father. When she was 4 her brother was born, he died soon afterwards from an arrow in the back. Silenzio's sister left when Silenzio was 13, leaving her to care for her 6 other siblings. Now that she has turned 15 she will be leaving home.


Other:




​
 
Approved!!


Though we've already got four elves, so I'll not accept any more for a time.
 
Name: Masahiro Shigeru





Age: 27





Gender: Male


Species: Human


Magic: Over the years as being the leader of his rebels, he had picked up on magic, which was Fire. It was a basic sort of magic, since Humans aren't capable enough on wielding powerful types of magic. He used it during his battles, but still needs some improvement.


Appearance: http://images.wikia.com/animeomega/images/e/e5/Anime_Warrior_by_chaotixwol.jpg


Brief History: Masahiro Shigeru lived a decent life when he was only ten years old. During the time, his father was completely busy, and it was he who did most of the work. In the boy's earlier life time, Masahiro did not understand what was happening around him; with all the Orcs being the higher class and treating the humans as if they were slaves. The humans were actually slaves though, his parents just never really talked to him about it. Later on when Masahiro became thirteen years old, his father owed a huge dept to the Orcs that he had worked for. Mysteriously, he disappeared a few days after they warned him about the dept. Then soon after, a group of Orcs came into Masahiro's home, looking for his father. But they couldn't find him. So instead, they took Masahiro and his mother and had placed them into separate slave areas. Following the separation, Masahiro was told that he is a coward just like his father. They told him that he was destined to become a slave, and to rot along with the rest of them. This didn't bring Masahiro down, it gave him hope. It gave him meaning, a new reason to keep living.


Many, many years had went by. During the years, he had been switching to numerous areas for slave work. They always gave him the hardest of all jobs as a slave. And over the years, he grew to have hatred over the Orcs. He hoped that if he was ever to leave his slave life, he would gather all of the humans who were treated terribly and rise up against the Orcs, no matter the cost. He would rather sacrifice his own life to save millions, than to rot here as a slave. He knew what he was destined for, he just had to act before it was too late. So, when he finally became twenty years old, he would meet up with slaves in various secret locations that he had set out for them. It was risky, because the slaves were only given a short break from work. But it was all worth it. When they made it to these meetings, they would give out information about the various locations where they worked at. Some locations that they talked about were weapon factory's, mining facility's, and mansions. And while they were there at the meetings, they would plan for future events.


And after three years of preparing, Masahiro had a large group of rebel slaves and within his given order, they attacked one of the slave posts over the night. The huge weapons factory was destroyed within the attack. And when the Orcs came to work the next morning, they saw nothing but rubble. The rebels had won for the night, never to have been caught by the Orcs. After the attack, the large group of rebels thought that since they were successful here, they should continue with their attacks. And with Masahiro leading the Freedom Fighters, maybe things would go better than what they had expected. But after three more years, the fellow rebels were right, for they had created total chaos against the Orcs on some areas around the empire. During his rebellious movement, Masahiro was also seeking for his own personal needs. One was to search for his father, whom he had never really had the chance to spend time with when his father was still around. But then, something happened. The Orcish leaders wanted this rebellion to stop. So they went off to try to speak with Masahiro, publicly, during one of their city speeches. When they gave out their speech, they said that they knew where Masahiro's father is, and that they won't hand him over unless the rebellion was put to an end. They said that Masahiro's rebellion army was no match against them, and that soon, the rebels will fall. Filled with anger, Masahiro recklessly made it to their speech, and sprinted his way past the whole crowd that listened to the Orc's speech. He jumped onto their stage that stood there in front of all the pedestrians and tried to kill those who had threatened his rebellion army, but the Orcs knew better. They had their local police surround Masahiro, and they kept yelling to him to put his weapons down so they can turn him in to prison. And by now, there was no other option. So he gave in, and was taken away to prison. With his name being printed onto the news papers saying that he will spend two years in prison, then will be put to death. And along with this, the rebellion was finally over.


And after a year of prison, Masahiro escaped with the help of three of his friends who had planned to help him. When they ran away from the prison, they made it to a safe location so they can "catch up" on what had happened during his time in jail. They told Masahiro that his rebel army was swept away by the Orcs. Most of them were killed, others disappeared. And so with this terrible news, Masahiro decided to live on his life in the poorer parts of the Orcish empire. This is where he stayed, hidden away from the Orcs. He would often travel around the empire, but never spoke to anyone unless they could be trusted. He would often steal from the richest of Orcs, and would either use the things that he had stolen for himself, or for the poor. Now, twenty-seven years old, Masahiro hopes that soon, he would ally up with fellow warriors; Elves, Dwarves, or anyone that he could find, and help them rise against the Orcs and to kick them out of their throne for good.


Other: Masahiro is a master at almost any weapon he can get his hands on. Basically, weapons that are within his skills are swords, axes, and other weapons that are not like guns and such. He would also meditate so he can get a great sense of thought while other things go about around him.


(If there's anything that needs fixing, I'll be happy to do so ^^)
 
Name: Eurehl Da'rehl Awrthyr Tiedenn


Age: 80


Gender: Male


Species: Dwarf (He pronounces Dwarf, Dorf and Elf, Welf)


Magic: Enchanting Rock and His Cannon


Appearance:


http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs10/i/2006/131/f/7/dwarf_rifleman_by_LOLONGX.jpg


(PS, not that Cannon)


Brief History:


A rather uneventful life considering he aspired to be an enchanter.


OH!! Except for one special moment that jump started his career ironically enough.


Once upon a time Eurehl was practicing his enchanting, when one of his enchanted boulders exploded knocking him off the patio down onto a cannon while he still held half the enchantment with him. The cannon had become enchanted a single time, firing a cannonball from within out into the fields. Later he was brought in to work on enchanting cannons and their cannon balls.


Luckily no one was the wiser about him drinking on the job... probably how the accident happened in the first place.


Other:


Owns smithing and Enchanting tools


Has a BFC (Psst... Big Frikken Cannon)


http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/cf/Yuan_chinese_gun.jpg


(PS That Cannon, but much MUCH bigger.)
 
Name: Archon Alastor Magnus (his middle name means "avenging spirit" in Greek)


Age: 19


Gender: Male


Species: Human


Magic: He calls it Rune-lore. He has this Stele, or a small wand-looking thing really, and he uses it to draw different runes on different things, and most of what he draws becomes what he wants. It does have it's downsides. He can't continously use runes and he has to have his Stele with him. And, when he uses it, it always leaves faint scars on whatever he drew on.


Appearance: http://img1.ak.crunchyroll.com/i/spire2/5db424e6f0e5ca46ce1305c31b7287d41254525391_full.png


He stands a little over average at 6'1" and he's blind in his right eye. He doesn't care if people know, and proudly bears a eye patch just for that reason. He's well toned from years of labor and has scars to prove the harsh conditions. Whip scars, mostly, but a few are from wear broken bones poked through the skin. And then there are the ever present rune scars, a multitude of symbols, mostly above cuts and other wound scars.


Brief History: He doesn't remember ever having a child hood, born into a slave family to start with. His parents raised him two years then he was resold. And has been resold about twenty times since. He's too stubborn, some say, to risky others say. Most say he's just to difficult to break, which is true. He isn't broken yet and doesn't plan to be.


Freedom? Sure, he wants it, but he's fine with annoying the orcs for a little longer, despite the pain he goes through. With his current owner, he can run errands and such, but he sometimes goes to the slum tavern. He likes overhearing the talk that goes on there and his owner never finds out.


Other: He can fight. He's learned to over the years, so if he wanted, he could join the rebellion. But that's the thing with him. He would rather be offered a chance instead of asking. They might not need the help, so he doesn't want to ask if he can.
 
Name: Goes by Sia (Though she does not know her name).


Age: Unknown. Looks to be in her early 20s.


Gender: Female.


Species: Human, possibly with Elven blood (If that's allowed).


Magic: A little empathetic magic. (A very slight healing aura and increased understanding of those around her.)


Appearance: She has jet black hair, cut short and neat.


Her frame is slim, bordering on underweight, despite food being plenty for her.


She has pale, almost anaemic skin, due to a lack of sunlight, but has kept it smooth and in near perfect condition.


Branded on her shoulder is her Orcish masters name. (See brief history).


Her sky blue eyes offset the sullenness of her face. Like the sky, they seem to light up from time to time, when she is genuinely happy.


Likewise, they often seem to mist over when Sia is sad, or bored.


She moves with a cat like prowl, wary of the surrounding environment at all times.


Brief History: Though she does not know it, she comes from a long gone human village.


The people of these village lived in harmony with the Elven folk of the nearby forest, often trading goods and services.


When the village was burnt to the ground to make way for Orcish roads, she was plucked from the village to serve as a slave, at the age of 16.


She proved difficult for her Orcish master (Drak' yhart) to tame, and as a result he resorted to using drugs to keep her under control.


The resulting amnesia has (or will, depending on where you want to start me) worn off as the effects of the drug have.


She does not know what purposes she was kept for, although she suspects, especially given the care to her appearance and the discreet hiding place of her cage.


Other: Detests physical contact from strangers. Refuses to wear makeup. Does not drink, or partake of any drug. Easily distracted (Due to the drugs used to sedate her).


 
Approved!!


Elven blood could be feasible if you really want it. Otherwise, you get to choose where to start out really, so go with what you feel will work best for you regarding the amnesia.


I'd like to see some more dwarves if anyone's interested, just a side note. Also, I'll be approving elves again since Katherine dropped the rp, sorry for the delayed notice.
 
Name: Davalamin Chorister


Age: 28


Gender: Male


Species: Half-Orc


Magic: None


Appearance:




View attachment 3538





View attachment 3539


Backstory: From the day of his birth, Davalamin has been an outcast. He was born the bastard son of a Orcish lord and a human slave. The lord, who was one of high standing before the scandal broke, was summarily cast out of the King’s inner circle. Title stricken, he found himself just as much despised as his reviled offspring.





Half Orcs are a rare thing, though not unprecedented. It’s rare to find a human women who can endure the trauma of giving birth to such a wild creature, and none have survived the ordeal to do it twice. Thus it was with Davalamin, who before he knew how to crawl, was without his mother and with a father that would rather forget him then care for him.


Almost as soon as the boy was taking his first steps, the Orc lord sent him off to a military academy. Part of the nobleman secretly hoped that the process would break the boy, and his father would be done with him. Instead, the boy thrived at the academy.


Davalamin quickly rose through the ranks of the academy’s students. There were many that sought to challenge his leadership of the class; they saw him as only a bastardize half-breed, who was weakened by the unholy union of Orc with Human.


But as the rest would quickly discover, his strength rivaled even strongest of warrior. And those he couldn’t beat by out-bruting, he would simply outwit. In fact, his chief lieutenant in the Blackguard would challenge him on four separate occasions, before finally accepting the Half-Orc’s abilities. Through a combination of strength, intelligence and charisma, Davalamin went onto graduate at the top of his class. And while there were many in the class that didn’t like the him, they all respected him.


As was his right as the head of the class, the chief of the academy allowed him to form his own unit from the graduating cadets, albeit reluctantly. That unit of cavalry would go on to be called the Blackguard, and would quickly earn a reputation for efficiency, and brutality.


Their first assignement was to clear the area to the west for new settlements. This was a lowly and humiliating task for one who graduated with such honors. To his credit though, he did his duty with the same exacting nature that he had showed at the academy.


Amazingly, he accelerated the pace of colonization beyond anything the Empire had ever seen. Partly this was due to a very simple policy; “Submit, Leave, or Die.” The townspeople of a given village that Davalamin deemed as valuable to the Orcs were given a choice; they could either submit, be slaves to the Orc Nation and expect to be treated as fairly as any slave could expect, leave within an hour of the proclamation with only what they could carry, or the final option was that everyone, including children, would die.


To his credit, he did ensure fair treatment to the slaves under his governorship. Even going so far as to executing slave owners that mistreated their workers to the point that they were no long useful. Some saw this as some sort of compassion towards the peasants, and perhaps in some small way that he would never admit to himself, it was. In truth however, he hated his own kind and hated the idea of wasting such effecting tools.


More often than not, the peasants chose to flee the area with what few belongings they could carry on their back. This wasn’t a whole lot, and ended up leaving his troops for an excellent opportunity at plunder.


The simple fact that they were given a choice was also misconstrued sometimes as some sign of benevolence on his part. This was more due to the fact that the only warning other Orc frontier commanders gave, was when the first bombs were dropping on their houses. Again though, there was a more pragmatic reason; the first was due to the fact that the food left behind by the fleeing refugees was used to sustain his force. More importantly thought was the intact farms, structures and roads that were left behind and allowed for rapid development of the area.


When the residents chose to stay, Davalamin and the Blackguard a reputation for merciless brutality:


First his troop would envelop the city and cut off any routes of escape. Then the troop would split off into two units; one would be responsible for crushing the meager defenses that were put in the unit’s way, while the other began systematically going from house to house, building to building, slitting the throat of every man, woman and child they found. Any of the houses they couldn’t get into quickly, they simply torched to the ground and listened as the inhabitants who were burned alive.


It was due to this ruthlessly efficient tactic that the Blackguard developed a aura of merciless brutality. The truth, just as it was for his other two options, was much more pragmatic. After the chaos had subsided, they would choose one person who would carry the news of what happened to the next village. This served to instill fear in the next target of conquest and the uselessness of their resistance. And the reason for killing the children as well? Such a traumatic event would scar them, and would provide inspiration for them to become enemies later on. That is why it was important to leave as few survivors as possible, best to nip a problem in the rear early.


After six years of expanding the borders of the Orcish Nation faster than anyone had ever done, Davalamin and the Blackguard were summoned back home to the capital for an audience with the King and a heroes welcome. Stories carried back home from letters of the soldiers and settlers of the new colonies, served to spread the legend of the Blackguard and it’s fearless Captain Davalamin. Stories of victories, no matter how they are achieved, are always sources of great joy and inspiration for the common folk.


And this was a very prestigious honor for him and his men. And while he was secretly glad for the rest of his men, he personally could be no more sickened. The Orc King has cast out his father many years ago. And while he didn’t care about his father in the least, he saw the King and his royal court as all that was wrong with this society that shunned him. They all set around their table and grew fat off of the spoils of his hard work, and all they did was lord themselves over everyone and think they are better than him.


And he was sure as hell to do everything in his ability to show his disdain to the royal court. As the men broke off for some much needed R&R, he was summoned for his audience with the King. When he did so, he did it wearing his weapons which was expressly prohibited. He didn’t care however, and he simply smiled at the King, refusing to bow to him. Davalamin knew who the superior Orc in the room was.


Of course the King and the royal court were greatly insulted by this defiance of royal etiquette. And they were determined to get back at him in some sort of way. It didn’t take them long for them to discover just how to get their much desired payback…


About a year before, his unit was clearing out yet another small village. Davalamin was walking through the streets and head a commotion from a small house. There was nothing remarkable about the house itself, it was like a hundred others he had seen burned to the ground during his campaign. He entered through the doorway and was surprised to see a woman of great vigor, swinging around a broom and managing to keep at bay three of his guardsmen. Whenever one would approach, they would be met by a swift strike from the handle.


Davalamin grunted in disgust at his troopers and growled at them to move aside. “This one is mine..” he scowled.


The men scurried away to allow him to approach the young woman. He had seen fear, and became accustomed to it in his foes. This woman showed no sign of it however, and this only infuriated Davalamin further.


He drew out the large knife from his hip, one that he had kept close to him ever since he was a child. The woman quickly drew a knife of her own though, though hers was more slender and longer.


She made the first move; a quick thrust straight for his manhood. Davalamin easily parried it away, mocking the girl’s sloppy form. Davalamin retaliated by making a thrust of his own, this one straight for her heart. Shockingly, she parried his blow as well and manage to get a quick slice on his arm. The men grunted at the sight of their leader wounded, and Davalamin roared out and snorted at his men. They quickly rushed out in fear of the house.


The fight intensified and became nothing short of a all out brawl; each opponent using everything at their disposal including their elbows, teeth, and knees. Bloodied, both Davalamin and the woman spun around and met each other with a blade to the other’s throat. They stared into one another’s eyes, as fire burning in their gaze that was strong enough to light all of Eldor ablaze.


The two stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Davalamin made the first move, slowly brining his free hand up and wrapped it tightly around her wrist. She lunged forward and bit at that man, but stopped just short of connecting. With a great force, Davalamin drove the small woman’s body up against the wall and pinned her to it. The two glared once more, before connecting in a passionate kiss. What followed was the most session of love making that only the great poets could describe.


There was only one problem with this union of theirs; the woman who Davalamin had chosen to bed with, was human.


This was the opportunity that the royal court was looking for to bring the great captain down. A decree was sent down that all officers of the army would only be allowed to wed other Orcs of noble blood. The decree was a understandable one, they wanted to keep their best tied to royal blood lines. But Davalamin knew he was the intended target of the decree.


The king and his minions had expected the young man to keep his wife, and resign from the army. He had a great many lands in the west that he could go to and retire on. That was all they wanted in fact, a self-imposed exile.


What they had underestimated however, was the hatred he had for the king, the royal court and indeed for all of Orc society’s cultural taboos that had hounded him all his life. All of his soul was consumed by the great flood of disgust, leaving only an island for his dear Collette. Davalamin also couldn’t bare the idea of her being treated as an outcast like he was.


He approached her in the bed chamber later that night, and tossed a knife next to her. The woman knew what this meant; Collette had heard of the decree and more importantly, she knew her husband. The fight played out in much the same way as it had when they first met, coming back to the same moment where they both had their blades to the other’s throat. She hesitated, and he didn’t.


Realizing the depths of his anger, and unable to simply kill the man who had so much public popularity, they ordered his unit to the most troublesome region in the entire kingdom, an exile of sorts. Davalamin, again to their surprise, accepted the assignment with no little humility. This greatly concerned the King and his court. But, they consoled themselves for the moment by with the thought that he would be far away from them and where he couldn’t do them any damage.


Secretly, though Davalamin had hoped for just this action. Inside the capital, he was always having to watch over his shoulder for one of the royal court’s assassins. Now he was off to conquer new lands with an army swelled by volunteers eager to go out and find a new home.


His plan was nothing if not bold: To establish a power base of his own in the south, where he could raise and supply an army that would one day march back to the gates of the capital and burn it to the ground. And watch with great glee as King and his pathetic lap dogs burned on crosses in front of his eyes.


On the first and every night his army made camp, a sorrowful but beautiful song could be heard coming from the Davalamin’s tent. Secretly, he was playing to his beloved, Collette, her favorite song to help her soul to rest peacefully for another night. He knew though that the only way she would finally rest in peace, was when he had made every member of the royal court pay for what they had made him do. Gods have mercy on any soul that stood in his way… for he would offer none.


Other: Davalamin is a master horseman, and has been trained well in the use of a speak that he keeps to his right. When he isn't charging directly into battle, he carries a spencer-esque rifle that has been modified with scope to serve for long range killing. In close quarters and a pinch, he can go with his revoler and dagger.


 
Name: Taylor “Tank” Abrams


Age: 27


Gender: Male


Species: Human


Magic: None


Appearance: http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs22/i/2008/264/1/3/HULK_by_1314.jpg


Brief History: Never really caring for magic, Taylor built his body up for strength. Standing at 6 foot even, he is the tallest in his family and the least adapt to magic. Since his 18th birthday, he has entered himself into underground fighting. His first year of his fighting, his records were 100 wins and 0 loses. He was a natural born fighter and now his body was reflecting that.Upon his next fight, he would face an enemy that he had never seen before. Upon the starting of the match, his opponent neared the ring and he caught the first glimpse of him. He stood near 8 foot tall and his skin tone was green. His physique seemed to match Taylor’s and his rage, near doubled. Upon the starting of the match, it did not last but a mere minute with the defeat of Taylor. The defeat was not only crushing to his body, but also to his ego. From his first defeat, he dropped out of fighting and secluded himself to the mountain top.


Other: Lives in solitude and hates the orcs.
 
Name: Vulcan Xanthis


Age: 20


Gender: Male


Species: Human


Magic:Has the ability to breath fire and cover his body with scales


Appearance: Long black hair, blue eyes, six foot tall, Has black garbs on. A blue silk scarf around his neck and a red cape upon his back. A katana sheathed at his left side.


Brief History: Vulcan is a demi god, son of god of fire and forge. His mother human who raised him until he knew his natural calling to become a warrior, to grow stronger. To learn and master the ways of the sword and to make his name legend.


Other:
 
Demigod is a no-no. *raps some knuckles with a yard stick*


It would greatly help to somehow ground your character in the established universe, just as a friendly tip.


For now:


Not Approved!!
 
Name: Darren Malona


Age: 26


Gender: male


Species: Human


Magic: Excels in fire magic and manipulating the earth to his will.


Appearance: http://www.cosplayisland.co.uk/files/costumes/3849/42448/hawke_dragon_age_2.png


Brief History: Born in a small human village about halfway up one of the great mountains, Darren grew with thick skin, holding out against the cold since his very birth, he was raised to be strong and independent, he soon became the apprentice to the village's wizard, learning the magical arts of controlling rock, soil and flame, his father was a village warrior and blacksmith, he had Darren use his powers of bending minerals into forging steal, and taught him to use his flame magic to make himself like a walking forge, making weapons and tools on the spot.


Growing bored with his life in the village and concerned with news of the Orcish expansion, Darren left to perhaps become stronger and to see if he could help in whatever plot the other peoples had to deal with the orcs, and to see if he could elp in any way.


after crafting armour from old armours by re-shaping the metal and using the pelts of various mountain animals, Darren and his father crafted a set of armour and with the aid of his teacher, they crafted a staff to help in hone and focus his magic.





Other: Has a quick pick-up on magic and fighting skills, is very to-the-point, has a black horse that he has yet to name and an orcish blade taken from an unlucky orc scout who came too close to the village.





 
Approved!!


I'm afraid though that we have so many humans now, I'll need to close humans for the time being.
 
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