Jeremor
09-03-2013, 03:03 PM
General Information:
Name: Onheil
Age: He has lived since man has known hate.
Gender: Male
Race: Some manner of wraith, summoned by awful magics long ago.
Appearance:
http://i.imgur.com/1lfEFHl.jpg
Build: It is difficult to calculate his exact size and shape, since he is largely composed of bones, decaying flesh, and shadowy fog. He is usually quite tall with broad shoulders filling out his black robes.
Hair: All fell out long ago.
Eyes: A dull reddish glow illuminates the hollows of his eye-sockets, brightening and fading in a steady rhythm.
Distinctive Features: Onheil owns all the basic skeletal anatomy of a normal human being, with some tendons still connecting bones and joints together. More than a few of his bleached white bony appendages have cut marks from some blade scratching across him. His teeth are still mostly in place, one or two missing and a couple chipped.
Clothes / Armour:
A black hooded robe, ragged around the edges and with rips in some places. A sort of black smoke occasionally puffs from the holes in his clothing, wafting around like a strange incense. It smells absolutely terrible, like decay and dusty tombs. Beneath this robe, as can be seen, is a rusting breastplate with odd inscriptions written in white chalk. Most of it is hidden beneath his robe, and it is more resilient than it's rusty appearance indicates.
Fighting Style:
Onheil fights like something that does not know true death, only momentary dispersal. He wields his large weapon with the ease of a muscular man, despite his lack of muscles whatsoever. All his actions are deliberate, hefting his blade and sweeping it through the air with the intent to kill or maim without hesitation. Though he can occasionally possess some malevolent guile or cunning, for the most part he is very mechanical and methodical in his approach to battle. He approaches his foe and attempts to kill them in as expedient a manner as possible.
Weapons:
'Snyer' – This is a large curved two-handed sword (55 inches long) that could not be crafted by any forge on Earth. It's blade is a chipped edge that seems to be some unknown smokey metal stuck into black molten rock, sharpened on the curving side. It's hilt is more of the extremely dense black rock, naturally spanning outward to form a hand guard. The handle is more rock, wrapped in a stained white strip of cloth wound tightly. It holds no offensive magical abilities, but is impossible to break and extremely heavy for a normal human to lift. Onheil can wield it with a single hand.
Bony Claws – Onheil's skeletal hands form to very sharp points, painful if raked across someone's skin.
Death Knight's Steed - Onheil can summon a skeletal warhorse to ride, a terrible thing of bleached bones and tendons in the same manner as it's master. It is covered in medieval horse barding, rusty chain armor and ragged black cloth. A dull red glow pulses in it's eye sockets and black smoke puffs from it's rotted nostrils. It's hooves could likely do damage, but it seems to lack the murderous intent of it's rider. It only sits where it was dismounted, waiting to be ridden by it's master.
Abilities:
Look Into Abyss – The red glow of Onheil's eyes hold a bewitching property. If one looks into Onheil's eyes for an entire post, giving into the magical temptation, then he will spend the next post being bombarded mentally with his greatest fears and most horrible nightmares. For a split second he will have a small taste of what his own pit in hell would be like.
Stink of Death – The black smoke that emanates from beneath Onheil's robe contains a toxic property, where if breathed too deeply(within 7 feet) it will cause almost immediate nausea. If breathed for a longer time(2 posts without fresh air), it will make the inhaler retch and vomit. If breathed for even longer(3 posts without fresh air), it will cause dizziness and more pronounced sickness. Finally, if breathed for too long(5 posts without fresh air), it will cause fainting and blindness. These effects wear off after one turn, provided one gets fresh air.
The Reaper's Touch – This is Onheil's only true spell ability, where he must concentrate for one turn in order to use. Once charged, Onheil's index finger becomes the focal point of some occult spell. When touched to the flesh of his opponent, the victim will suffer an immediate bleeding wound somewhere on his body. The severity of this wound is comparable to the stab of a dagger, which ignores physical armor. The cooldown of this ability is two posts, until Onheil can again concentrate for one turn and use the spell again.
Attributes:
Undead – Onheil, being without troublesome flesh and the like, cannot bleed or suffer a 'mortal' wound. Instead, he must be completely dispersed by smashing his bones to dust(which requires significant force). He will continue to fight until his skull has been broken and pulverized.
Strength of Hate – Despite his appearance, Onheil is about as strong as an Olympic weightlifter on steroids. He is able to lift upwards of 900lbs without showing any human signs of exertion.
The Abyss – Onheil feels most comfortable in darkness. When forced to fight in daylight, he will be more sluggish and less powerful, to a small degree. It does not cause him physical pain, only discomfort.
Divine Weakness – Being an agent of death and evil, Onheil is more susceptible to weapons and spells of a holy nature. Divine blasts of light, blessed weapons, holy water, and crosses cause him greater harm if wielded by a true believer.
Biography:
Personality: Being an autonomous agent of death and evil, Onheil doesn't have much personality beyond a smoldering desire to kill every living thing he comes across. Though this is the driving point of his every action, he does have some malevolent intelligence in those hollow eye-sockets. This malevolent intelligence is usually only turned toward figuring out how best to murder something, though. There is very little wasted effort in his actions, and absolutely no pity or mercy or regret in whatever he does.
Background:
On a cold dark night, a thousand years ago, there was a great meeting of some profane and terrible cult of necromancers. Those dedicated to the raising of unknown and the summoning of demons. They gathered together, hundreds from across the continent, to read from an ancient book penned by evil itself. With it's pages yellow and sickly as the horrible spells it contained, they carefully decided how best to use this tome of unspeakable horror. It was decided, they would rule the world with this compendium of forbidden knowledge.
They poured over every spell, enraptured, until they came to the last page. Here was the ritual for the summoning of a most ancient and powerful force of evil and death and destruction. They decided that this would be the tool to give them all the power a mortal could dream of. The world would be made in their image, under their hand, each owning their own little piece. The ritual called for a hundred souls in sacrifice, and so they gathered one hundred innocents to slaughter. Everything was carried out exactly to the tome's directions, but all did not go to the mortal's plans.
This book of horrors was not written for the benefit of any mortal being, such being the nature of evil itself, and so the tome made no mention of any means to control whatever was summoned from it's pages. The necromancers succeeded in their summoning and brought forth the most terrible of death's knights, Onheil. They cheered and then screamed, as they were butchered one by one until nothing remained. Nothing besides Onheil.
After that day, he has roamed the world leaving behind a trail of destruction. His one desire: to stamp out life wherever it crosses his path.
Name: Onheil
Age: He has lived since man has known hate.
Gender: Male
Race: Some manner of wraith, summoned by awful magics long ago.
Appearance:
http://i.imgur.com/1lfEFHl.jpg
Build: It is difficult to calculate his exact size and shape, since he is largely composed of bones, decaying flesh, and shadowy fog. He is usually quite tall with broad shoulders filling out his black robes.
Hair: All fell out long ago.
Eyes: A dull reddish glow illuminates the hollows of his eye-sockets, brightening and fading in a steady rhythm.
Distinctive Features: Onheil owns all the basic skeletal anatomy of a normal human being, with some tendons still connecting bones and joints together. More than a few of his bleached white bony appendages have cut marks from some blade scratching across him. His teeth are still mostly in place, one or two missing and a couple chipped.
Clothes / Armour:
A black hooded robe, ragged around the edges and with rips in some places. A sort of black smoke occasionally puffs from the holes in his clothing, wafting around like a strange incense. It smells absolutely terrible, like decay and dusty tombs. Beneath this robe, as can be seen, is a rusting breastplate with odd inscriptions written in white chalk. Most of it is hidden beneath his robe, and it is more resilient than it's rusty appearance indicates.
Fighting Style:
Onheil fights like something that does not know true death, only momentary dispersal. He wields his large weapon with the ease of a muscular man, despite his lack of muscles whatsoever. All his actions are deliberate, hefting his blade and sweeping it through the air with the intent to kill or maim without hesitation. Though he can occasionally possess some malevolent guile or cunning, for the most part he is very mechanical and methodical in his approach to battle. He approaches his foe and attempts to kill them in as expedient a manner as possible.
Weapons:
'Snyer' – This is a large curved two-handed sword (55 inches long) that could not be crafted by any forge on Earth. It's blade is a chipped edge that seems to be some unknown smokey metal stuck into black molten rock, sharpened on the curving side. It's hilt is more of the extremely dense black rock, naturally spanning outward to form a hand guard. The handle is more rock, wrapped in a stained white strip of cloth wound tightly. It holds no offensive magical abilities, but is impossible to break and extremely heavy for a normal human to lift. Onheil can wield it with a single hand.
Bony Claws – Onheil's skeletal hands form to very sharp points, painful if raked across someone's skin.
Death Knight's Steed - Onheil can summon a skeletal warhorse to ride, a terrible thing of bleached bones and tendons in the same manner as it's master. It is covered in medieval horse barding, rusty chain armor and ragged black cloth. A dull red glow pulses in it's eye sockets and black smoke puffs from it's rotted nostrils. It's hooves could likely do damage, but it seems to lack the murderous intent of it's rider. It only sits where it was dismounted, waiting to be ridden by it's master.
Abilities:
Look Into Abyss – The red glow of Onheil's eyes hold a bewitching property. If one looks into Onheil's eyes for an entire post, giving into the magical temptation, then he will spend the next post being bombarded mentally with his greatest fears and most horrible nightmares. For a split second he will have a small taste of what his own pit in hell would be like.
Stink of Death – The black smoke that emanates from beneath Onheil's robe contains a toxic property, where if breathed too deeply(within 7 feet) it will cause almost immediate nausea. If breathed for a longer time(2 posts without fresh air), it will make the inhaler retch and vomit. If breathed for even longer(3 posts without fresh air), it will cause dizziness and more pronounced sickness. Finally, if breathed for too long(5 posts without fresh air), it will cause fainting and blindness. These effects wear off after one turn, provided one gets fresh air.
The Reaper's Touch – This is Onheil's only true spell ability, where he must concentrate for one turn in order to use. Once charged, Onheil's index finger becomes the focal point of some occult spell. When touched to the flesh of his opponent, the victim will suffer an immediate bleeding wound somewhere on his body. The severity of this wound is comparable to the stab of a dagger, which ignores physical armor. The cooldown of this ability is two posts, until Onheil can again concentrate for one turn and use the spell again.
Attributes:
Undead – Onheil, being without troublesome flesh and the like, cannot bleed or suffer a 'mortal' wound. Instead, he must be completely dispersed by smashing his bones to dust(which requires significant force). He will continue to fight until his skull has been broken and pulverized.
Strength of Hate – Despite his appearance, Onheil is about as strong as an Olympic weightlifter on steroids. He is able to lift upwards of 900lbs without showing any human signs of exertion.
The Abyss – Onheil feels most comfortable in darkness. When forced to fight in daylight, he will be more sluggish and less powerful, to a small degree. It does not cause him physical pain, only discomfort.
Divine Weakness – Being an agent of death and evil, Onheil is more susceptible to weapons and spells of a holy nature. Divine blasts of light, blessed weapons, holy water, and crosses cause him greater harm if wielded by a true believer.
Biography:
Personality: Being an autonomous agent of death and evil, Onheil doesn't have much personality beyond a smoldering desire to kill every living thing he comes across. Though this is the driving point of his every action, he does have some malevolent intelligence in those hollow eye-sockets. This malevolent intelligence is usually only turned toward figuring out how best to murder something, though. There is very little wasted effort in his actions, and absolutely no pity or mercy or regret in whatever he does.
Background:
On a cold dark night, a thousand years ago, there was a great meeting of some profane and terrible cult of necromancers. Those dedicated to the raising of unknown and the summoning of demons. They gathered together, hundreds from across the continent, to read from an ancient book penned by evil itself. With it's pages yellow and sickly as the horrible spells it contained, they carefully decided how best to use this tome of unspeakable horror. It was decided, they would rule the world with this compendium of forbidden knowledge.
They poured over every spell, enraptured, until they came to the last page. Here was the ritual for the summoning of a most ancient and powerful force of evil and death and destruction. They decided that this would be the tool to give them all the power a mortal could dream of. The world would be made in their image, under their hand, each owning their own little piece. The ritual called for a hundred souls in sacrifice, and so they gathered one hundred innocents to slaughter. Everything was carried out exactly to the tome's directions, but all did not go to the mortal's plans.
This book of horrors was not written for the benefit of any mortal being, such being the nature of evil itself, and so the tome made no mention of any means to control whatever was summoned from it's pages. The necromancers succeeded in their summoning and brought forth the most terrible of death's knights, Onheil. They cheered and then screamed, as they were butchered one by one until nothing remained. Nothing besides Onheil.
After that day, he has roamed the world leaving behind a trail of destruction. His one desire: to stamp out life wherever it crosses his path.