Shadows and Dust

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Shadows and Dust; Hiren's characters.
Topic Started: 29 Sep 2008, 09:20 PM (72 Views)
Hiren	29 Sep 2008, 09:20 PM Post #1
Addict Posts: 615 Group: Members Member #718 Joined: 6 April 2008 Favorite theme: RPA 2: Frost Country: United States of America	Well I figure its high time I re-enter the sparring ring and see if I still have what it takes to tangle with the members of RPA Lokiri is my greatest creation. Developed for 7 months even before introducing him online. This bio is but a fraction of his story... --------- Name: Lokiri Valya Pronunciation: Low-Kee-Ree Veil-ya Nickname: Loki Gender: Male Race: Ithilian Home Country: Aratarndor Class: Megiltura (sword master) Age: Ithilian's age much like the elves. Lokiri has been alive well over two centuries. By normal standards he would be 20. Alignment: Neutral Character Tier: High Tier Character Type: Critical Character Physical Description: The High Prince of the Ithilians stands at just over six feet, an average height among the race. His body seems carved from stone with rippling muscles hardened to a steely toughness by a life of battle. He is not overly large in build; no more so than the next Ithilian. But their strength is well known in Aratarndor. His skin is painted a deep bronze, a product of a lifetime of living with the elements. His face is completely unflawed, and not a scar nor birthmark mars the flesh of his cheeks or curve of his jaw, which is its own kind of miracle. His face is framed by a thick head of hair as black as raven’s feathers that reaches down to his shoulders, which is a perfect shade to match the dark complexion of his skin. When he smiles teeth the purity of pearls flash into being. His steady gaze is the color of glacial ice and just as cold; yet they can melt into a caring softness when with friends or with that special someone. Calluses are on both of his hands, a result fromwielding sword and spear. The only lingering mark from a wound taken long ago is a long scar that sprawls down his left forearm. . It is the belief of the Ithilians that White is the color for battle. Its purity is a reflection of their own prowess in combat. Lokiri, High Prince of the Ithilians, wears a marvelously tailored cloak of shining white atop a lightly armored vest of fine leather that protects his chest, his forearms bear steel plated gauntlets that bear countless nicks and scratches left over from battles, and his pants are a light shade of grey with the ends tucked into a pair of fine leather boots that are an elegant hue of brown. Lokiri without the Cloak of Celeste Weapons: Upon the passing of their childhood training all Ithilian's are given their weapon of choice. The weapon they proved most efficient with in the art of killing. Only the highest quality of craftsmanship is accepted. Isilme and Uial [level 8]: A pair of identical scimitars made of high tempered steel that is incredibly strong, and durable; which enables the pair to withstand the most powerful of blows. The slight curve of the blades give an imposing quality to the beautiful craftsmanship. The handle is of ebony as black as a moonless night and bearing a slight gloss. The edge of the blade is like a razor, and it is sharp enough to cut silk by simply dropping it onto the blade. They have proven to be capable of cutting through most armors or, if not than the blades are thin enough to slip in through the grooves if the wielder proves so capable during a fight. there are traces of Nethricite forged into the blade, giving them a faint glint of lavender. Nethricite is a rare crystal, found only in the deepest bowels of the Nether realm and protected by the greatest of demons belonging to the dark God's hordes. They are individual voids in the living realm, completely non existent to magic and therefor unaffected by it. Spelled swords and armor do nothing to protect against these devastating weapons, the as the Nethrecite will split magical defenses as easily as a warm knife through butter. The number of men these blades have killed is among the thousands, and are on his person at all times; as his favorite tools for combat. His choice instruments of kill. They are positioned in what the Ithilians call a cross draw at both of his sides; right hand draws from the left, left from the right. Chain Whip [level 7]: Positioned cross ways around his chest there is also what appears to be an exotic belt of interlocking pieces of finely crafted metal. This is the most revered of weapons among Ithilians. The bladed whip is a most deadly and difficult weapon to wield. Only a pure blood is allowed training to do so and it begins at a very early age. Every single blade is finely sharpened to a razors edge. One false move on the wielders part could easily prove disastrous. Lokiri hardly ever uses this most devastating of weapons. In his skilled hands defending against it is nearly impossible. For the most part it remains hidden beneath the white cloak. For only in the most grave of situations would see him remove that cloak, and it is in those situations that such a weapon could be made useful. Defending against this mighty whip is next to impossible in his skilled hands as it is capable of slipping through defenses and even wrap around weapons to render them useless. Cloak of Celesti: [Level 8] The snowy white cloak that is almost constantly shrouding Lokiri's form is crafted of an exotic fabric, the origins of which remain unknown. It's like silk to the touch, shimmering with a kind of ethereal brilliance that draws attention no matter where he goes. Upon Aratarndor that cloak is the thing of legends. At the head of the Ithilian armies Lokiri is like an avenging angel as he fights his opponents, known as the warrior in white, his form shining brilliantly as the sun strikes that otherworldly fabric. The cloth is self replicating, knitting itself back together after every cut or tear. The tiny pinpricks of sparkles that can be seen all throughout its expanse are tiny traces of Nether Crystals that are sown into the very fabric. Much like the scimitars they offer protection from magic. Spells that are directed toward him pass around his form as if he were simply not there. So long as that cloak is worn he is like a walking void to the world of magic, able to walk through spelled traps without setting them off and any kind of spell unhindered. Skills: Diplomacy [Level 6]: As High Prince of Ithiliril Lokiri is practiced in speech and mannerisms. When faced with rulers or leaders of any kind he automatically assumes and air of poise and respect. Every action is polite and, like most leaders, everything he does is decided by his interpretation of the actions around him. The Ithilian's mind never stops working during these instances. He is always listening, judging, planning. A by product of a political teaching, perhaps. Given his... savage... upbringing people often assume he lacks the capacity to survive in the presence of the more "civilized" nobles and Loki has never. More often than not it is only after they have fallen into his complicated ploys and machinations that they realize their folly in doing so. Swordsmanship/ Combat [Level 8]: In combat Lokiri is like death in the flesh, capable of slaying hordes of opponents completely on his own with his skills with the blade alone. He fights as if dancing, his swords weaving an intricate pattern of death as they cut through his opponents as easily as breathing. Against skills opponents he takes his time, gradually working into more complicated attacks and patterns of swordplay until he simply overwhelm them. Never once, in his home world, has he encountered an opponent that could push him to the limits of his strength and speed and that is among his greatest desires. Flexibility/Acrobatics [Level 7]: A lifetime of regularly practicing what is called Yoga on earth has given the Ithilian an exceptional control over his body and muscles. This particular skill is unleashed during combat, allowing Loki do dodge attacks in ways some would find difficult to imagine. It also allows for complicated and unpredictable counters. That combined with a refined sense of balance gives him the ability to integrate feats of acrobatics into his fighting style as well. He possesses the balance to fight upon a taught rope, the acrobatics to perform complicated flips and jumps even with his focus centered on attacking and defending in combat. Discipline [Level 7]: An Ithilian's discipline is well known and renowned upon Aratarndor. Nothing distracts them from their goal. Not magic, not explosions, not the sudden appearance of another enemy. They are completely focused on their target. Should another one offer itself up they are dealt with accordingly. But they never lose sight of their ultimate goal, never stop until that goal is achieved. Surrender is not in their vocabulary. To retreat would be dishonorable... weak... impossible... Lokiri's level of discipline is even more extreme, having undergone intense mental training to shrug off even psychic attacks on his mind. Clear Thought [level 7]: As the High Prince of Ithilians Lokiri is accustomed to commanding his men in battle. As such, an ability to keep a level mind is obviously a necessity. Through the killing and blood shed he remains cool and aloof. Always thinking of ways their plans might be countered as well as ways those counters can be overwhelmed. When it comes to risking the lives of his men no action is done without serious consideration. No order is given without proper motive. A general does not have the right to grow angry or reckless, and Loki is careful to always keep that in mind. Call it detachment or simple uncaring but Lokiri possesses the self control to distance himself from feelings and emotions, separating them from his thoughts. Reality Bend [Level 8]: The only kind of Power the High Prince posesses to his knowledge. Intense psychic training has granted him incredible control over his mind. By focusing on something that directly affects him or his future he can alter the reality within which it exists and change its course. Spells can be made to veer off to the side or be turned against the caster completely. It requires much more effort to do so, of course, and so he usually simply changes the direction just enough for it to miss him. Arrows and other projectiles are, obviously, much simpler when it came to halting or making them miss. This ability woke within him when he was transported out of his realm, ripping him from Fate's design. Because he is a living entity outside of Fate, he has been granted the ability to change her plans so long as they effect him perosnally. Anything that does not he is powerless to change and, knowing what he could do if it did, that makes things infinitely worse on him at times. Another aspect of reality bend, one that few expect or think of when considering the ability itself, is the ability to take hold of any given object and literally alter its existance. Lokiri can make objects within his grasp shift, bend. A harmless branch found lying on the ground can be become a perfectly balanced, steel tipped spear or a finely carved walking staff. A quickly running stream could be turned into a river of flowing liquid mercury. By taking hold of a living creature and applying enough will and focus he could literally alter its very essence and reason for existance. A cold hearted warrior could be turned into a timid rabbit, a tiny mouse into a vicious lion. The options are quite literally boundless, depending on his creativity at the time. He can quite literally use any and all surroundings to the best of his advantage. Personality: Loki radiates confidence. He has seen many a warrior and fought in even more battles. All have fallen before his blade as easily as the next. A true challenge is among one of his greatest desires. Right up there along with what is called by the Ithilians a beautiful death; a death by an enemy greater than he. With the sure steps of a man who knows his skill and limitations, he walks. His voice is a light baritone; strong and yet not incredibly deep. He talks with a slight accent that seems to only heighten the appealing mystery that enshrouds him. Every man met is assessed instantly. In moments he has a decision as to their skill and prowess by looking at nothing more than the way they stand and carry themselves. Women he treats with courtesy and a desirable charm. There is no hint of condescension for them. Ithilian women are just as fearsome as the men and even more cunning so he would never make the mistake of underestimating any of them; Ithilian or not. Should anyone prove themselves a friend they shall be treated with courtesy and kindness. While those who prove to be enemies will be dealt with accordingly and without mercy. Unfortunately he also has the Ithilian pride. For him failure is not an option. Retreat or surrender is not in his vocabulary. No matter the odds he will fight, and die, without fear. In battle nothing matters but his opponent. His focus is at such a high level everything else is forgotten. He has killed friends because they have gotten in his way and he did not give the time to recognize them before striking. Though he is not quick to fight, goad him on and he will come without hesitation. Insult him and you will be warned. Do so again and the gods better be willing to grant mercy, for he will not. Family: Lokiri's family is gone, along with the rest of the Ithilian Race History: The life of an Ithilian is a very difficult one. Theirs is a warrior society. From birth they are constantly watched and inspected so as to determine their worth in battle. Those that are small, sickly, or misshapen in any way are considered outsiders among the community. They cannot fight and so they are weak. They are given other less strenuous tasks to perform. Running shops or caring for wounded. The smallest of them are employed as messengers, as they are light on their feet and are conditioned to travel long distances quickly. The rest; those deemed worthy of the strength and prowess it takes to be a warrior; are monitored closely in the care of their mothers. From the time they can walk they are introduced into the bloody world of battle. Their fathers train them in wrestling and the basics of swordplay. Though they would never kill their son they hold nothing back during these sessions. How are they to be made strong if they do not suffer pain or defeat at an early age? No opening is allowed to pass. Instead they are preyed on so that the young warrior will learn for the next time. Should he lose his weapon he is struck with stinging backhand or closed fist. Should he let slip a strike with the wooden practice swords the sting of its hit will cause him to be quicker the next time lest he be struck again. At the age of seven the boys are taken from the warmth of their parents home. For the next ten years they will be subjugated to the most grueling of tests. They will be taught to kill without mercy. To use every weakness his opponent possesses to their advantage. Desperation forces them to kill while starvation employs the need to steal. Survival, they are taught. Only the strongest survive this decade in their lives. By whip and rod they are punished when a task is met with failure or they show a lack of discipline. Taught never to show pain lest their enemies possess the guile to use such things against them. They are taught endurance, given a high tolerance to pain so that any amount of torture would prove ineffective should anyone of them be captured. Many times they are thrown alone out into the wilderness to test their skills and survival instincts. Given nothing more than the light cloth on their backs they are to survive; to hunt with makeshift weapons and live in the harshest of environments. Lokiri survived all these tests. He has endured the most sinister of tortures, including those of magic, with an iron will and grew a powerful tolerance to such things. He has proved himself a master of combat, besting all opponents during the ten years of training. Among the best warriors in Aratarndor he is the greatest. Though his father, Sabriel Valya, was High Prince before him it is a title bespoken by the choice of the people; a reflection of the man’s skill in the art of killing. Only the greatest may lead the Ithilian armies. Only the greatest are trusted to command the warriors in war. Lokiri is said leader. The one given the trust to guide their people through war and bloodshed as well as peace. He ascended to the mantle of High Prince at the age of twenty after his father was slain in combat. During the Second War of Salvation he proved an invaluable force against the minions of Atar Wethrina and the armies of men that followed him. When the vast hordes of men came by ship from the Ancient world his men were the first to meet them. He proved a general of great cunning as well as might as he used the very terrain of Aratarndor herself to beat the armies back. Countless battles have found him at the armies head since then. Ithilians age slower than normal humans and so at 200 years he is still the equivalent of a young man. Many years of turmoil are ahead of him, and he looks to the future with a hopeful gleam in his blue eyes. A hope that one day, when enough men have died, he and his men will be granted the freedom of peace no matter how short it may last. Unfortunately the Ithilian race has fallen. After being tricked by the Immortals and being transported to another realm Lokiri was forced to watch helplessly as the enemies of Ithilril struck. He is alone now; the last of Ithilians forced into service to the Immortals. For only through helping them, those higher beings who he hates most, can his people be restored. The gods spared him the fate of his people, took away his chance for a beautiful death, and he is both thankful and spiteful for it. Thankful because he has a chance to bring his people back and to exact vengeance on the cowards who struck. Spiteful because he should have died with his men and was not allowed to. However, there was also another effect caused by the Immortals meddling. One that even they did not foresee. The High Prince of ithilians has been ripped from fate's design. By the immortals own actions he is no longer within the pattern. Though his actions may shape fate, he himself is not counted as part of it. He is uncontrollable, unpredictable, feared by the Immortals themselves and rightly so, for though he may be mortal, he could kill any one of them if given the chance.



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