Valkyries: Occult Warfare (OOC)

[StormWolf]

This RolePlay is rated Mature for the usual suspects: Violence, Gore, Occult and Satanic references, Language, Sexual Situations, Nudity, and all things that fall therein. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!

http://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/Valkyrie%20patch-sigil_zps3j3bajiw.png

“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown"
Howard Phillips Lovecraft (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PquqTCHRZxs&index=2&list=PLJaKbPlXXQon_STHLqP80RozMu6J4cP_S)

IC Thread (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83890&p=2826274#post2826274)


The World as we see it – our History – is incomplete. The true picture has been cropped and cut to best protect the feeble minds of mankind, sheltering them from the cold, dark, and malicious things that twist and constrict at the edges of their perception. Why do you think we mortals have an unexplainable fear of the dark and unknown? An innate distrust of what cannot be explained? Ever since we had discovered fire to protect us from what lurked in the shadows, we have huddled close to the flickering light of civilization, doomed to be snuffed out by the darkness that claws and slithers its way ever closer. Every creature that used to squat in the mud, grow in the night, and yet answers to Death’s Toll see themselves as the pinnacle of evolution, parading themselves as the chosen of their one-and-only god, the chosen of Gaia, or some other such delusion of grandeur. Humans, Vampires, Shape-changers, even the ageless Sidhe fall into such trappings. It is the feeble defense of a mewling child before the eternal and inconceivable vastness of the Outer Darkness. But not all is lost.

There have been those who stood valiantly in the face of such voracious darkness throughout the ages. With the vastness of the world, ideology, and culture separating these courageous souls, they remained united by one singular purpose greater than all others – Preserve the Balance.

What is the Balance, you might ask?

The balance of the world we know and the world we do not. The secret world running parallel with the mortal world. A cosmic-level arcane force binding everything together, a balance of karma; Light and Dark, Creation and Void . Whenever the Balance tips, reality heaves. Fire falls from the skies, rivers run with blood, floods consume the planet, and plagues return entire Empires to dust. The vigil kept by these fiery spirits is thankless and will at times fail, but without them, the world would be a dark and primordial hell. The greater the vigil grew, the more sophisticated they had to become, using a marriage of mortal and supernatural resources to keep both worlds in check. But the Vigil is a mere calling - a shimmering blade in need of a firm hand against the terror of the Nevermore. In a world where one is surrounded by secrets, knowledge is power. The power of prophecy, to See and Listen to the true nature of the world. Such is the burden and terrible power of the Oracles.

Oracles are mortals bestowed with vast knowledge of things peculiar, queer, and unnatural. Many are lost to the pages of history along with the rest of the secret world, but there are some who, during times of great upheaval, drew attention to the eternal struggle. Gilgamesh, Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Edgar Allen Poe, H.P. Lovecraft – all of them were Oracles who spoke with the Vigil through their works, some of them even taking up the sword themselves. To be an Oracle is an ancient birthright as well as a curse. As one Oracle dies, the next will be born. An unspoken Law of the Balance is that there must always be five Oracles alive at one time. To break the chain of reincarnation would leave the world defenseless to the most sinister of threats from beyond. Despite the efforts of many down the aeons, the mantle of Oracle is not something that can be bred. It is something bestowed seemingly by Providence at birth. When an Oracle is born, a psychic shockwave is felt around the world, most potently by the others of their kind. They will begin experiencing the World-Dream as soon as their mind has matured enough to process such information; usually between 5-9 years of age, depending on the stage of mental maturation.


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Initiate the Secret Histories

In 1935, at the rise of the National Socialist Party in Germany, one of the strongest Cabal in the world was brought under the rule of Heinrich Himmler. The Ahnenerbe lent their services to the Nazi party and in turn were provided with resources they needed to further their cause. The cause of the Ahnenerbe was to trace occultism to its primordial roots through any means, and discover how and why Oracles are made. They believed that peace could only be achieved by the eradication of the Nevermore, the Secret World, the shadowy realm from where all things mortals deem supernatural spawn from, and where all spirits go to when their life in the Mortal Realm ends. So obsessed with their cause, they delved into the Black Arts, forbidden by the Laws of the Accords, and as a result spurred one of the bloodiest conflicts in human history.

The other Cabals met in secret, agreeing that by the Laws, the Ahnenerbe were to be ostracized and outcast, their names stricken from all records. They were labeled as traitors to the Balance and a threat to both worlds. As such, a new Cabal was made, one whose like had never been conceived before. It was called ‘Task Force Valkyrie’. From all across the world, from many secret societies, covens, and other Cabals, one member was to be offered to the ‘Valkyries’, the best they had. They would be entrusted with the means and authority to hunt the Ahnenerbe and any other Cabal that strays from the Laws, and terminate them. They were meant to be the keen edge of the Balance, to be thrust into the heart of any force from either side that sought to plunge the world into abandon.

Task Force Valkyrie was deployed to counter the expeditions of the Ahnenerbe and their terrible experiments with black magic and occult fringe science. The first time these two forces clashed was upon the misty hills of Karelia, by the White Sea, where the German Occultists were attempting to replicate ancient pagan spells from the local tribes. They would clash again in Tibet, Africa, and various other locations across the world fabled for their natural draw of supernatural power. While the Second World War raged, the Ahnenerbe and the Valkyries fought their own secret war of the occult. This is known to those with the Knowledge as the War of the Broken Vigil, or simply the Shadow War.

As World War II came to a close, the Ahnenerbe scattered, going underground and assumed destroyed before the Axis collapsed completely under the crippling weight of the Allies. With the Anenherbe defeated, the Valkyries had one grim duty left in order to maintain the Balance. While mostly unsuccessful, the SS Occult Division had succeeded in developing some near-Oracle beings, which of course, needed to be terminated as well as the research that had created them.

Onward from their founding, Task Force Valkyrie remained the iron fist of the Balance, tracking and hunting those who sought to bring about chaos through occult means. Should the other Vigils fail in their duty to protect the Oracles, the Valkyries will swoop in with cold steel and hot lead, much like their namesake. Should it be required, they may be called to terminate a rogue Cabal just as violently as they might burn out a rabid Vampire nest.

The Valkyries are usually humans of either great skill, grit, or with some manner of special ability or relic. Occasionally, non-human creatures can be brought on board as a member so long as they are not beings of magic, since magic tends to wreak havoc on technology. This means werewolves (and/or other shapeshifters), vampires (depending on the species), and other such worldly monsters of the flesh. Creatures from the Nevermore, including daemons, angels (or the combination of the two), and fae cannot be admitted because of their ethereal nature and general cavalier attitude towards mortals. One cannot be expected to defend those they ultimately have no care for in the grand scheme.


You are to be a Valkyrie: the first and final safeguard of both the World-That-Is-Known and the Secret World. The bastion against which the unnatural storms of ages break. They are an organization with roots back to the dawn of civilization, when mortals finally stood a chance against those who haunt in the dark. Unlike their cross-bearing cousins, it is not the place of the Valkyries to terminate the supernatural wherever it may be found. Their prerogative isn’t to use the Knowledge of Truth to turn a profit as the Illuminated Ones do, nor do they seek to open the eyes of the World to that which goes bump in the night No, it is the tireless vigil of a Valkyrie to maintain balance between Man and Monster, to keep the eyes of the world closed to the shadows that lurk within shadows so that the nightmare may pass. They are the last remaining Cabal to do so, and are loathed by many for it. Uncompromising and incorruptible in their purpose, they stand armed against the march of ages and the rising tides that wish to consume them, and in turn, the World.


This is tale is what can be best surmised as a military urban fantasy. You will fill the shoes of a Valkyrie - a specially trained and outfitted individual, mortal or otherwise, who is trusted with keeping the World of Man and the World of Monsters from destroying one another. The keys to this balance are the Five Oracles. There are only ever five in the world at a time, and it is through them that the greatest threats to Creation can be fought. Not all Oracles will be on the side of the Valkyries, though. In fact, they may only get one, if they are so lucky. Think of the Valkyries’ vigil as a lone candle in the darkness, burning on both ends. They are ultimately alone in their fight. While they may have their allies of convenience, when the chips are down, you can only really trust the brothers and sisters who bear the Mark of the Valkyries (as seen at the top of the page.)




As one may expect, The Valkyries employ a vast armory of modern and antique weaponry, as well as a large collection of relics, foci, and other occult paraphernalia. You would be hard-pressed to find any other organized task force using a medieval sword alongside a cutting edge assault rifle. There are, of course, limitations depending on scarcity/rarity of relics and just how much the Valkyries can afford.

Runic Rifling - In the past hundred years or so, gun barrels have been grooved in order to put an addition topspin on bullets, increasing their overall accuracy. In the Valkyries, their weapon smiths have mastered the art, inlaying minuscule rune scrawls into the barrel. As the weapon is fired, the runes are carved into the bullet as it passes through the barrel, effectively enchanting the bullet. The downside of this is, of course, that each enchanted bullet draws from the user’s Anima - their power source. It will ultimately tire the user out in quick order if used in too-quick of a succession. As such, Runic Rifling is not common on automatic weapons.

Engraving/Relic Modification - Aside from making one’s weapon look pretty, engraving the weapon or adorning it with some manner of relic will endow it with some kind of constant effect. This requires a large Anima draw when the modifications are made, though their payoff is often lesser than something that requires the allotment of Anima for each use. Bullets and blades can also be engraved or endowed with relic properties as they are made.

Military Modifications - What would be considered standard military upgrades and modifications to weapons, but with a slight flare for the supernatural. Iron core rounds, silver-plated grenades, UV flashlights, and so forth.

[u]Foci[/u -] What many would consider a wizard’s tools of the trade. Foci are a means of channeling Anima/Arcane into physical energy, often activated by a spoken word. While any magi can manifest the Anima or Arcane without a foci, only the most disciplined can do so cleanly. The greater majority will have their spell fall out of control, or even backfire. Foci - staves, wands, rods, crystal balls, chains, essentially anything that can direct a magi’s power, are a way of directing and focusing their Anima.

These are simply examples. Feel free to take liberties so long as they are balanced.

There are forces in creation that predate light and gravity, binding all that was made in the First Age together in the life-stream of magic. With the progression of the Ages, the primordial magic developed as life changed across the planes of reality. Reaching arms of the “World Tree” - called ley lines in the crude spoken languages of this aeon, bind the unfathomable fragments of uncounted realities together.

Anima

Anima has many names through the ages and across cultural borders. Some call it Chi, others Spirit, Faith, Mana, and even Devilry. To put it simply, Anima is one’s vital energy – the power of the life given metaphysical form. The harmonization of the spiritual and physical resonances with that of the cosmos, creating what is a potent, malleable aura. A soul. There are those in the world who can actively tap into their Anima and manifest its power in a multitude of ways. Some may conjure up a firestorm with their Anima, others may use it to shift from woman to wolf, while another may use it to bolster their body to effectively become superhuman. Whispers say that there are some who can tap into the Anima of the world, even the vastness of the cosmos, but such power requires skill, and there may be fewer than twenty of such practitioners between all the realities found within the World Tree’s reach.

To tap into one’s Anima is such a way is tiring, though practice and effort will increase one’s threshold for continued use, just like exercising the body. Do so cautiously, though, for your Anima is your life-force. It is a spring that will refill over time, so long as it is not tapped dry. The fate of many untrained practitioners has been the over-draw of power, their own spell killing them through sheer exertion. To have one’s Anima extinguished is to have their soul destroyed.

Therefore, one can conclude that creatures of the undead and un-life do not have a source of Anima. They are essentially hollow husks, puppets on the strings of one with great power. There are certain arcane disciplines that allow one to draw - or feed - off of the Anima of others (some breeds of vampires are sustained as such) rather than simply using their own. Necromancers and Warlocks tend to use such tricks, and will often go mad in short order as a result. Anima is the soul of a person, all of their thoughts and memories and emotions given quantifiable form. To tap into that is to see the life of another as you suck them dry, but through one’s own perception. Soon, the Warlock will not know which memories are theirs, and often develop multiple personalities.



As stated in the preface, there are only ever five Oracles alive at one time in the world. As such, their roles in the story are very important, even exclusive. If you have any desire to play an Oracle, know that is will require lots of communication with me behind the scenes. Add-me-on-skype kind of collaboration. I will probably only allow one Oracle character in the roster, and that will go to whomever presents me the best Oracle sheet. Yes, it is an audition role, essentially.


Over the march of centuries, those that combat the darkness or maintain the Balance have developed a way of categorizing opponents, known and mysterious. As sciences advanced and intellectuals were brought into the fold of the various Cabals, there exists a completely valid branch of cryptozoology.

Code: Mike: Mortal, Mundane, “Mundy”
Humans desperately seek the monsters among them, either literally or figuratively. Ironically, of all the monsters that call the Earth their home – most doing so since before Earth had such a name – none have done the planet such widespread harm as humans. Despite what some may have you think, Adolf Hitler was a human being, not some reptilian from the Core. Bin Ladin was a man under the influence of no greater demon than his own delusions and ambitions. Because of this, Hominids are listed in the Valkyrie Codex, taking into account the great diversity of human physiology and psychology, and how drastically one or both can change under the influences of the supernatural. To put in plainly, a Hominid is any threat that is of human origin to the Balance.

When facing a Code: Mike, many Cabals approach the situation with amateur cavalier, leading to unmarked graves and empty chairs at empty tables. By its nature, a Code: Mike implies that the threat is something more to warrant calling in a Cabal. Cultists performing a blood rite, necromancy, occupation of a ley line convergence, and possession of a dangerous relic all fall under a Code: Mike operation.


Code: Foxtrot; Ferals
Called “creatures of the night” by the dramatic, despite few of them being exclusively nocturnal, Cryptids are animals that have existed in folklore and mythology, but never been concretely proven. Not all cryptids are innately magical, but they have something about them that sets them apart from the standard flora and fauna of the Known World.

Being such a broad spectrum, Code: Foxtrot requires knowing what you are hunting to avoid becoming the hunted. Being creatures that have avoided concrete discovery in the modern world, cryptids have a high tolerance to many common toxins and poisons, and are often of a greater constitution than other animals of their size.


Code: Alpha; Anthros, Abnormal, Abomination
Beings of legend and myth that are deserving of the fear and reverence they were paid in bygone times, anthrocryptids are the creatures that the limelight so dearly loves: vampire, werewolf, wendigo, sasquatch and so on. What separates a cryptid from a anthrocryptid falls to cognitive thought and magical origin. On average, anthrocryptids are as smart as humans and can blend into human environments easily. Some, like the infamous bigfoot, cling close to their ancestral breeding grounds despite human expansion, but make themselves extremely difficult to seek out.

Much like the cryptids, a Code: Alpha incidents require much planning and preparation if time permits. Depending on the creature, they may have only particular physical weaknesses. Bring a big gun with the wrong ammunition, you may as well have brought a little-league nerf bat. Marking the midway point between cryptids and hominids, anthrocryptids are considered high-threat when on the opposing side. Not only do they possess intelligent, sentient thought, but anthrocryptids also have a wide repertoire of physiological and magical boons, depending on the species.


Code: Echo; Ethereal
When a being dies, it’s Anima leaves an imprint on the physical and metaphysical fabric of our reality. This phantasm is an echo of what the person was and reflects how they died. A sweet old woman who passed away in her sleep will leave a miniscule imprint, able to be touched by those she knew through ritual or prayer, but sometimes not even able to respond. Should a bitter young man be run down and lynched for being different, that can result in something far different. Far more dangerous.

Little is known of Phantasms, as much of their being revolves around the greatest mystery to mortals: death. Scholars on the ethereal, including ectomancers and demonologists, have theory and formulae. However, if you ask ten different demonologists how best to deal with a phantom, you will get ten different answers… none of which may work, because of the phantom’s nature. Some particularly powerful Anima imprints or true crimes against humanity can spawn spectres of legend. The Revenant, Banshee, and Poltergeist are prime examples of a “phantasmic apex predator”.


Coratoan is a moniker for haunted, unholy, and otherwise supernaturally malicious locations. Such locales are often located along a particularly powerful ley line, or even in a ley line nexus. The more power flowing through a ley line, the thinner the veil is between cosmic planes. Depending on which plane(s) seep through, it will have all manner of unpredictable effects on the location.


CLASSIFIED



I am GM, I am the Law
Don’t be a dick to your fellow players, but feel free to have your character be a dick [within reason].
I reserve the right to accept or deny character sheets as I see fit. There is no cookie-cutter, here. Make characters you want to play, but also make characters other players want to interact with.
This is not a “three strikes” RP. This is a “I will tolerate (X)” RP. If you make a few mistakes here and there, fine. If you royally screw the pooch once, pack your bags.
Try and post often, but more than quantity I want quality.
All RPA Rules & Regs apply.
No godmodding, no railroading, no powerplaying.
I will not accept characters that have a high chance of exploitation. You are free to submit character attempts until I tell you to stop. Chances are if you aren’t accepted within the first 3 tries, you aren’t getting in.
Spell/grammar check please.
I reserve the right to add/change/remove rules as I see fit.
Character death is a real threat, but you’ll know when/if it comes. Poor decisions will become the bed you’ll need to sleep in. Character death is not a gimmick.
If you have read all the rules and you agree to abide by them, write “Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn!” at the top of your character sheet.
Do not start your character with a call sign. It will be up to your peers to come to agreement and assign you one. For those assigning, be appropriate and mature. If it comes to it, I’ll decide a call-sign.
When submitting your character sheet, be sure to PM me with at least 2 Breaking Points; at least 1 physical and 1 mental.
Have fun, damn you!



October 31st, 14 years ago - 11:50 PM local time

In a time-lost city of sandstone and ancient rites, a woman is held captive in a cyclopean temple beneath the shifting sands of Egypt, bathed in the scintillating light of the gibbous moon. Heavy with child and in the throes of labor, she is guarded by dark-robed and red-masked cultists, clutching serpentine blades and automatic weapons. The woman, once a Valkyrie herself, is to be mother to the next Oracle.

The rest of the Valkyries strike like the Furies themselves, not only for the life of their friend and comrade, but for the rare chance to have an Oracle delivered into their grasp. Outnumbered, outgunned, and fighting on the enemies favored ground, they paid for every inch in blood and toil. Many fell, but not vainly. The shuddering of drums echoed through the dusty catacombs, the air itself trembled in a cold and remembered terror. Breaching the antechamber of the temple, the Valkyries broke the ritual rites of the cultists' high priests with the wrath of the war gods themselves, spiriting their comrade her her unborn away in the night.

In the bitter desert night of Samhain, the mother passed into the Nevermore, giving the last of her Anima to bring the Oracle-child into the world. Carrying the child and her deceased mother away from the cursed place, the vigil of the Valkyries continued, their burden heavier than ever before.

Note: If you wish to make a character with more of a veteran position, I would ask your RP sample involve this scenario in some way. If you wish to make a 'greener' character, you would not be part of this prologue.


Britannia - the misty isle, the land of druids, colonial lands of the Fey. Walk the rolling emerald hills of this land and you’ll see manors and castles hundreds of years old. Older still are the megalithic standing stones, inscribed in mysterious glyphs and cuneiforms that predate the Romans by thousands of years. To those who know how to use them, these ancient druid-stones are some of the most potent magical foci in recorded history. While many are too massive to move from their nests in the living earth, those small enough to be moved by a single man are closely guarded.

Imagine the icy grasp of fear gripping the occult community when one of these artifices goes missing, it's entrusted keeper found slain in the gutters of London. In a city of millions, one more death is little more than a statistic, even if it is the death of a holy man. However, beneath the surface of the Known World, the secret places and obscure channels were abuzz.




Name: What you call yourself? Call-signs will be appointed to you. Joke’s on you.

Gender: Boy? Girl? Something in-between or far apart?

Race/Species: If you’re not human, how evident is it?

[b][Age (Real and apparent, if applicable): Are you fifty and look fifty? Are you twenty and look ninety?

Appearance: Please only use a picture if you’ve got something that perfectly describes your character, or you’ve had art commissioned of them, or you’ve drawn them yourself. Otherwise, give me a good description.

Personality: Broad strokes is fine, I don’t need to know every bawdy joke they like to tell. This should not just be a list of character traits; tell me how they see the world, how they think, how they act.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities: Let this cover supernatural powers, mundane skills, and whether or not they’re particularly good at shooting snot-rockets. As above, this should not only be a bulleted list of specific powers. Enough specificity to give me the shape of their abilities is good, a spreadsheet is not.

Standard Loadout: While equipment will vary depending on mission and situational parameters, every member probably has a select few items that they have on them at all times. This should include ‘signature’ weapons and any talismans, relics, or misc foci.
Note: I will not put a set limit on what your character may carry, but it should make sense. I won’t stop you if you want to have a staff, assault rifle, shotgun, hand-cannon, blasting rod, hand grenades, and a baby stroller… but you are going to have to live with carrying all of those in the IC, and I will laugh as you flounder. PS - I probably will stop you if you carry that much shit all the time. Sorry.

Background: Take this opportunity to show me where your character came from, why they became a Valkyrie. This can be a biography, a short story, a comic strip, or whatever.

And if there are parts of your character’s backstory you want to expose through the game, that’s fine. Surprises are always fun for everyone. If you have some ‘under the table’ stuff you want to include, PM me so it can be incorporated, also so I know you aren’t planning on making the descendant of Dagon, or something.

RP Sample: Yeah, you know the drill. 1-3 paragraphs minimum of your character doing something.

Props to Naril for the basis of this Character Skeleton


Name: Nathaniel Hayder

Gender: Male

[b]Race/Species: Human, Anglo-Saxon Caucasian

Age: 36; and due to years of diligent maintenance, he keeps himself at the apex of physical condition.


-Character art in progress-

Nathan is a firmly built man of notable height and formidable build. Standing at a solid six feet and weighing in at 190 pounds of steely sinew, he is something of an imposing figure. Fair, tattooed skin is stretched over imposing ridges of muscled physique, cutting the hard, sleek silhouette one would expect from an apex predator. Nathan sports masculine jaw and firm, handsome, even wolfish features – a strong nose, strong jaw, and severe brow; all stony planes and angles. Settled into their sockets are eyes like chips of blue-grey ice; cold and severe in their gaze. Atop his head is a tightly cropped mane of sandy hair, cut close to the scalp at the back and sides, leaving enough at the top to style should the occasion arise but not short enough to hide the sneaking wings of silver at his temples. More often than not, Nathan will have a short beard upon his jaw. Borne not out of a fashion standpoint as much a neglect to regularly shave.

The Valkyrie Medics have estimated that roughly twenty-five to thirty percent of Nathan’s body is covered in scar tissue; old wounds inflicted by beast, blade, ballistics, and burns. It is a collection of badges of courage from his years among the Valkyries, and the Krypteia before that. Where scars do not tread, tattoos are often scrawled, nordic and celtic-druidic in origin and design - wards against possession and blessings of battle etched into his very flesh. To those with an inhuman sense of smell, or simply in an intimate proximity to the man, his is a heady scent of a man well-traveled; Nathan has a constant aroma of coffee, leather, cigar smoke, and Old Spice around him.

In his day to day, Nathan dresses himself as if constantly expecting to do some kind of taxing outdoor activity. Always in his steel toed boots, he often wears boot cut jeans or cargo pants with a light long sleeve shirt or a button-down shirt with rolled sleeves. On occasion, he’ll wear his aged leather jacket. Nathan’s operational gear is what one would expect from a modern military operative - full tactical gear, including Crye BDU pants and customised ballistic armor.

Nathan is a man of firm temperament. Emotionally stable despite the horrors experienced in the day-to-day, he finds camaraderie with his fellow Valkyries, but remains withdrawn and brusque beyond their tightly knit brotherhood. He is not one to trust easily, and whether a genuine display of apathy or a coping mechanism for the job, he takes a casual and cavalier attitude towards violence and the grotesque. Despite his resilience, he is only a mortal man, and turns to the crutch of stiff drink when the burdens grow too heavy to bear.

Towards the Oracle-child, Nathan is protective in the extreme, and can often be blamed for any attempts to spoil the child rotten. He knows the burden of the Oracles, and that one never really has the opportunity to live a normal life. So to counter-balance the horrible visions and nightmares that plague the Oracles, Nathan seeks to provide some manner of childish joy for the Oracle while he can.


Marksman: Ever since his upbringing in the Krypteia, he has always had a gun either in hand or within reach. At his current level of skill, Nathan can hit a target the size of a tea saucer at seventy yards with a black powder pistol. With a modern rifle, he can hit a target of the same size at over two hundred yards with little assisted aim.

The Iron Way: Lethal up close as he is from afar, Nathan is skilled in close-quarters combat with a mixture of martial arts, armed and unarmed. His choice weapons at the intimate range are knives and short swords. While he would prefer to not get in a position where he is left with just his fists, he is considerably lethal with them, as a proficient practitioner of multiple martial arts. These include Kung Fu, Krav Maga, Silat, Glima, and Wing Chun.

Ironclad: Nathan is naturally tough as nails, as it is just the nature of his life and job. He can withstand terrible beatings and pains of the physical and metaphysical realms. Despite being only human, he can resist the most mental and spiritual torment while still withstand most of the tortures human minds have conjured through history short of anything involving fire. This tolerance stems from no supernatural power or ability, just rigorous mental discipline.

Anima Aegis: Channeling his Anima through an enchanted arm ring, Nathan can manifest a shield of arcane power. While it can stop most kinetic impacts, it does not protect him from auxiliary effects like extreme heat or cold. Being a shield of energy, and therefore translucent, it cannot protect him from bright flashes of light, either. The shield’s diameter is sufficient to protect him from waist to neck.

Anima Adrenaline: Charging his very body with the power of his Anima, Nathan increases his reaction time and physical threshold, allowing him to be faster and stronger than he could ever be without such an ability. Anima Adrenaline dulls pain and clears his mind of distraction, but it does not make him any more resilient to trauma. Anima Adrenaline is the most taxing on his Anima reserves as well as his body. The ‘coming down’ from such a high will usually leave him with shaking hands for a time until he can gather himself.

Reiki - With a peaceful place to rest and meditate, Nathan uses the oriental healing art of Reiki, or “laying on hands.” Doing so is a long process, and cannot be done in the midst of combat. In 8-10 hours of uninterrupted Reiki, Nathan can advance healing by a week.


A Guncrafter Industries Model 2 (http://picturearchive.gunauction.com/1729162916/12662832/pix200810552.jpg_thumbnail0.jpg) chambered for .50GI rounds, sporting an extended magazine with a capacity of 12. Nathan has a few magazines of specialty ammunition; specifically silver-jacketed shredder rounds, relic iron slugs, and “saint slugs”. Usually holstered under Nathan’s left armpit via a leather shoulder rig.

Rokkr (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/09/cf/41/09cf41cc9d97d464b903b9c6a0f252c5.jpg)
Considered Nathan’s “Big Game” pistol. This customized Smith & Wesson 500 magnum is rifled with an enochian curse of enfeeblement, designed to weaken and nullify the Anima of another being.

SAI Tier 1 Custom (http://cdn1.evike.com/images/large/sai-gry-gbb-3.jpg) - Though he only takes this weapon on full tactical operations, Nathan loves his T1. With a 14.5 inch barrel, SAI rail system, and jailbreak muzzle. The rifle is loaded with an ACOG scope and angled red-dot for target acquisition at both long and short range. It’s also equipped with a standard foregrip with a UV combat light. The rifle hangs from a yoke sling around his chest, and it has a suppressor as an option.

Nemaeus (http://www.kp-art.fi/jt/miekat/img/falchata08.jpg)- Ever since the first boys of the Krypteia came of age, it has been tradition for the candidates to forge their own blades in the bubbling, volcanic heart of Methana. Even in modern times, the tradition persists. Gathering his own materials and rowing to Methana peninsula on his lonesome, Nathan sought out the forge-priests. Entering the Crucible at the peninsula’s volcanic heart, Nathan forged Nemaeus from relic irons upon the great anvil of Hephaestus. Practiced magi and Anima Spectres from the Nevermore can resist the blade by layering and bolstering their defenses. Being made of layered damask steel, the weapon is an effective tool against ghosts, Fae, and other Nevermore denizens. The sheath, and therefore the blade, are secured to his back via a leather bandolier, the sword’s grip protruding over his right shoulder.

Sawed-off 1887 Winchester Shotgun (https://cdnb3.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/002/723/211/large/dima-chen-1887.jpg?1464970119) - Keeping Nemaeus company on his back is a sawed-off lever action shotgun, chambered for 10 gauge shells. The only thing Nathan has that is anything of an heirloom. The barrel is cropped as short as it can go, making it a great weapon for close quarters. The lever is pure iron, engraved with runes and sigils of divine geometry.

Aegis Arm Band (http://www.celticrevival.com/cr_graphics/products/jewelry/torcs_bangles/bt01.jpg) - An old norse torc of braided silver, engraved with runes of protection, serving as a foci for Nathan to make his Anima Aegis. The arm ring is clamped around left wrist. The greater the strain put on the Anime Aegis, the hotter the arm ring will get, to the point of Nathan’s left forearm bearing several burn scars.

Nathan was born into the eldritch truth, ever surrounded by the preternatural world and all of its wonder and horror. On the eve of his seventh birthday, Nathan was handed to the oldest of the Cabals: the Krypteia. His upbringing was Spartan, to say the least, trained to fight the world of the Occult on all sides. To him, monsters were the face of the enemy, nothing but rabble to be subjugated, reminded of their place below humankind. It was in his first assignment at the age of seventeen that had Nathan and a squadron of fellow Kryptei raid a nest of Sirens who had occupied a sacred Atlantean acropolis. Their task was simple - kill anything that moved. To a virginal combatant with delusions of honor, the horrors of the act he and his kin were to commit was lost until the shots started firing. The raid took place in the heart of autumn, when the Pod had just brought young into the world – the den effectively a nursery. Where Nathaniel’s Brothers and Sisters shot, chopped, and burned, the young Aspirant was frozen with a soul-crushing horror. His belief, his spirituality, and his loyalty crushed under the bootheel of Krypteia brutality.

Upon returning to the Grand Acropolis, Nathan made plans to spirit himself away. Taking only the clothes on his back, his shotgun, and his blade, Nathan ran. He was on his own for a year before the Valkyries picked him up, a dirty and desperate vagabond with a very particular set of lethal skills. With their numbers light in that time, he was quickly accepted into their fold, proving to be a valuable asset, quickly finding his footing among them. With the Valkyries, he was not commanded to wantonly murder the the innocent – monster or not. He was a weapon with a just purpose, and against those deserving his learned wrath, they suffered it in full. In a few years, they were all as family. Such is the way of the Valkyries.

He was dear friends with Miranda, the would-be mother to the Oracle-child, and as such, he was one of the first into the fray to extract her from the Scions of Zosimos and their hellish plots. When she perished, he was wounded deeply. As part of his promise to Miranda, he took the Oracle-child under his care. At the ripe age of 22, he knew nothing about raising a child, so the Valkyries veteran members co-operated to ensure the Oracle was properly prepared when the time came. The crack team of paranormal-military operators became a family in the wake of Miranda, she who kept them together when the going got rough, and for the legacy the Oracle-child represented.

Fourteen years later, Nathan is a well-oiled machine of occult warfare. His severity had been tempered by his role of guardianship over the Oracle-child, turning him away from brash decisions that he would have otherwise pursued.
If there was ever another reason to hate the sand, this night had given Nathan all the reasons he would ever require. Miranda had been taken right from under their noses on maternity leave. Her guard detail wiped out. It had all lead up to this moment - the eve of Samhain in some forgotten corner of Egypt, amongst partially unearthed ruins that predated any of the pyramids. Peering over a gargantuan slab of hieroglyph-carved limestone, Nathan surveyed the opposition. Clad in dark robes and sanguine masks, the Scions sported the usual go-to for the sandbox - AKs.

The past fifty hours of sleeplessness had Nathan in a wrathful mood, driven by desperation, more than anything. Nerves were tense, a twisting knot in place of his stomach. Easing back the bolt on his rifle, then letting it snap back, Nathan took a few preparatory breaths.

"On my mark," he said into his throat mic. "3... 2... 1. Engage." Rolling out of cover, Nathan snapped his sight up to the nearest hostile. Finger depressing on the trigger, three thunderclaps filled the air as hot lead spilled from the barrel to tear jagged holes in their ordained target. Before the first body even hit the ground, Nathan had zeroed in on the next scarlet-masked combatant, placing a round directly through the eye hole.

Blood spilled to the sands of Egypt, black in the muted light of the full moon. Shouts raised as the telltale rattle of Kalashnikov fire attempted to repay Nathan in kind. Ducking and diving for the nearest cover, Nathan pressed his back to a jagged and crumbling wall of limestone.

"Valkyrie-Two, this is Valkyrie-One. You are go for advance, over."
"Roger Valkyrie-One, Valkyrie-Two is bringing the thunder. Over and out."

The dune opposite Nathan's position came to life with flickering lights, followed by the crackling of yet more gunfire. Rising to a knee and leaning around his cover, Nathan squeezed off a few more rounds, dropping two more cultists.

"Valkyrie-One, this is Valkyrie-Five. We have a man down and hostiles closing in. Over!" Peering over the rise of a slanted set of ruins, Nathan saw the murky shadow-shapes of his comrades, one of them slumped against a crumbling staircase.

"Ten-four, Valkyrie-Five. On the way." Nathan replied. Dropping his rifle to its sling, he drew out his pistol, flicking the safety off with a casual flexing of his thumb. Pulling a flash-bang from his flak vest, Nathan tossed the primed charge around the corner of his cover before readying his Aegis Ring. A flash and a deafening boom followed the four count of the fuse. That was Nathan's window.

Sprinting across the opening, Nathan channeled his Anima into the twisted silver ring of metal around his wrist. A dome of faint blue light grew from Nathan's wrist. Sparks flew up from the shield's outfacing surface as oncoming bullets disintegrated against the crackling energy of his barrier. Flying across the sand at a dead sprint, firing off pot-shots at exposed enemies as he went, Nathan was easily violating several handfuls of military regulation. Then again, not many military regulations included having a shield of pure energy at one’s wrist, or magic bullets.

Theme for reasons (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MPD5Z2u-pY)

Sullivan "Sage" Singer is a silver fox of a man, color long since fled from his hair and luscious mustache. His earthen-green eyes alight with intellect and humor, Sullivan takes a relaxed approach to most things. The older members of the Valkyries know the man very well, and they are right to fear him, for within him is the soul of a tiger. Ferocious and savage with a cunning, murderous intellect.

Sage is the current head of the Valkyries, the pinnacle of rank amongst their order, and rarely ever enters the field anymore due to the lingering pains of old wounds. He holds down the fort of the Valkyries' primary base, known as The Rampart. It is an old castle on the rocky coast of rural northern Scotland, a place he has turned into his private study of all things occult. The only way in or out of The Rampart is by helicopter, scaling the jagged cliffs, or brave the lethal bottleneck of the main road. The untamed wilderness around the Rampart for leagues is cluttered with landmines and lethal defensive Wards.

Reference 1 (http://www.aerialphotographysolutions.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Aerial-Photograph-HH-Culzean-Castle.jpg)

The Rampart is a sturdy and stubborn structure, of the strongest stones from Scotland's bosom upon the jagged cliffs. Originally constructed in the early 1700s, the Rampart has served as protector against many aggressors besides the bitter elements of the Highlands. The architecture is bold and opulent, its original owners apparently of great wealth and power, as well as a knowledge of the occult. The Rampart, aside from being in a prime defensive locale, happens to be situated directly in the path of a large Ley Line - one of the natural magical superhighways upon which the world's Anima travels.
The Rampart is built not only for comfort, but also defensibility. Thick walls have worn the weather of ages, as well as two world wars and several occult incursions that will never be known to the general public. In addition to the main building, the Rampart has secondary lodging - once the serfs quarters - for VIPs that wish to have their privacy. There is also a walled garden, sizable fountain with live fish, and additional auxiliary structures for general storage, though one has been re-fitted into a gym.

In the main hall of the Rampart, the Valkyries keep diligent watch over the Oracle – or at least as best as they can manage – while attending their day-to-day duties. All necessary accommodations are filled in earnest to the point of luxury. The primary tower is where Sullivan conducts his business, always in view of the sea, while keeping company to a private library with the Lore Keeper. In addition, there is an expansive armory, laboratory, mechanic workshop, firing range, and garage all built into a subterranean complex.

The castle's lands are massive, surrounded by several leagues of untamed forest with a few small towns scattered within its domain. The villages are primarily farming villages that have provided for the Rampart since it rose, and continued to do so with freshly grown crops, free-range meats, and [most importantly] local microbrew beer. The villages surrounding the Rampart are all of a special stock, dedicated to the Rampart's lords for over 200 years. Sullivan Singer hosts a festival in the castle garden at each solstice to celebrate the season with the village folk, for the village folk.


Nathaniel Hayder - StormWolf
Knoobish Chinua-Borjigin (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83627&p=2820546&viewfull=1#post2820546) - Dnafein
Eve Crossfaith (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83627&p=2820630&viewfull=1#post2820630) - Lleona
Salazar (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83627&page=3&p=2820910&viewfull=1#post2820910) - Sikstaslathalin
Oracle June Arles (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83627&page=4&p=2820958&viewfull=1#post2820958) - Gambit
Kyra Marie Rosen (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83627&page=5&p=2821013&viewfull=1#post2821013) - Poison Ivy
Lilith Uundia (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83627&page=19&p=2823199&viewfull=1#post2823199) - Koti
Thrangeir (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83627&page=12&p=2821921&viewfull=1#post2821921) - Cfavano
Nora Weschler (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83627&page=31&p=2824739&viewfull=1#post2824739) - Lifted Lorax
Dr. Heinrich von Richterstein (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83627&page=15&p=2822117&viewfull=1#post2822117) - Denraven
James Marsters (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83627&page=7&p=2821108&viewfull=1#post2821108) - Pheasant
Jakob Misir (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83627&page=37&p=2826056&viewfull=1#post2826056) - Bionicllama




I will be making an addendum to character sheets active immediately. When you submit your character sheet, be sure to PM to me their "Breaking Point(s)".

What is a Breaking Point? Pretty simple.

What is their Achilles heel? The crack in their armor? The vulnerable gap in their iron hide? Everyone has them, some are physical, some of psychological. I want at least one for each, but you are more than welcome to give me more. Make them interesting, honest, and real. When a Breaking Point is reached, a character may have some adverse effects and conditions thrust upon them. This doesn't mean madness, (though it can happen) but with every Breaking Point, characters will begin to get worn down and burned out. I expect the Players to reflect this in their writing if/when it happens.

Remember, Limitations > Power

[Dnafein]

Name: Khoonbish "Ken" Chinua-Borjigin

Call-sign: Red Wolf

Gender: Male

[b]Race/Species:[b] Werewolf; except for his eyes he appears as an extremely fit human.

Age:
Real: 92
Apparent: 27

Appearance:
Human: Ken is a wall of yellow skinned muscle that stands a little over five feet eight inches. He keeps his head shaved, though has been known to let the raven colored hair grow to about a quarter inch in length. His bushy oft angled eyebrows give his golden hued eyes a sunken look. Ken keeps most of his upper lip shaved bare. Long mustaches grow from above the corner of his mouth, hanging to about an inch below his chin. From his chin hangs two inches of braided beard. His left eyebrow has a white stripe, a quarter inch in width, half way through it. Beneath it hides a scar from his youth. His typical attire outside of combat is tee or muscle shirt, a pair of cargo pants and his combat boots.

Hybrid form: In this form Ken towers at eight and a half feet. His limbs and the trunk of his body lengthen, taking on lupine characteristics. The color of his fur matches that of his hair in human form. His elongated canine head bears the same white stripe above the left eye. His fingernails and teeth extend into lethal weapons.
reference image (http://beanstastic.deviantart.com/art/Van-Helsing-Werewolf-245653984)

Wolf form: Ken is indistinguishable from a large grey wolf in this form.

Personality: Ken's typically stoic expression hides a boisterous, fun loving, intelligent mind. Ken's always ready to drop a few (hundred) dollars at the local bar with friends and comrades. Nor is he above pulling the occasional prank on those same people.

But woe be upon him who raises this werewolf's ire. Ken is not the forgiving sort, he's perfectly fine carrying a grudge for someone who has offered actual insult or harm. When his duty allows, nothing would stop him from pursuing his vengeance.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities:
Traditionally Trained: The Chinua-Borjigin clan maintain the ancient traditions of the Mongolian people. Ken was trained in the art of archery and horsemanship, as well as in the use of the sword.

Modern Warfare: After finishing his training with his clan, and experiencing his first transformation Ken was employed by the local vigil where he received training with modern arms and armor.

Heightened senses: Even in his human form Ken has the olfactory and hearing senses equivalent to a wolf. He can even see (Albeit not in color) in low light, as well as he could midday.

Accelerated healing: Ken begins healing from all mundane wounds almost immediately. Wounds caused from magic heal at a slightly slower rate and those caused by silver heal at what most humans would consider normal speeds.

Enhanced speed and strength: As a werewolf Ken is naturally faster and stronger then he was as a human. His enhanced strength and speed are gifts that bleed over from the monstrous power of his hybrid form. Ken at full speed can run up to 40 mph and can lift up to a thousand pounds.

Shape shifting: As a werewolf Ken has the ability to shift between three forms. Of his three forms his Hybrid form drains his anima to a point of exhaustion. At which point his body will attempt to regress to his human form. With great effort Ken can hold the hybrid form, but will require an extended rest. The transformation to wolf will drain a large portion of his Anima, but holding the form will not.


Standard Loadout:

Armor: Ken wears a specially designed set of Level III Dragonskin (https://dragonskinarmor.com/) armor. The armor is designed to easily come off should he have to alter his shape.

Weapons:
Ken wears his ancestors Turco-Mongol sabre, it was given to him when he left the clan. The Turko-Mongol saber has a long, curved blade with a single cutting edge. Ken’s ancestor was part of the wolf guard. A group of Werewolves who served as the great Khan’s personal body guard. Each of them had a blade made from other worldly metal world that the great khan did. This metal is capable of injuring otherworldly creatures. In the hands of a mortal man it corrupts him, this is what lead to the infighting among Genghis Khan’s generals and the collapse of his empire.

As part of his training Ken learned how to make a traditional mongol bow. After leaving the clan he made another using parts and techniques available only through modern technology. The Mongol bow is a recurved composite bow, and ken uses it with deadly efficiency when stealth is required on his part. Each arrow Ken uses has a basic (i.e. minor) Mongolian blessing, the blessing is applied by the use of a hair from the mane of his horse; Usually this hair is wrapped around the arrow where the arrow head is attached.

The Barrett XM109 is a prototype anti-materiel rifle and grenade launcher. Each shot inscribes the bullet with a number of holy emblems. Ken carries this weapon when he is assigned to overwatch, or when intel provides information that high level threats would be present in the operation area.

This is Ken's primary firearm, in assault situations. The Barrett M468 is a variant of the M4 Carbine, rechambered for a heavier and larger 6.8mm bullet for increased terminal performance.

This is Ken's secondary firearm for assault. The Beretta M9, officially the Pistol, Semiautomatic, 9mm, M9, is a 9×19mm Parabellum pistol adopted by the United States Armed Forces

Background: Genghis Khan claimed that he was the son of a wolf. During his life the great emperor ever allowed anyone to paint his portrait, sculpt his image or engrave his likeness on a coin, so no one actually knows what he really looked like. Additionally no one knows how he died or where he is buried, well almost no one; The vigils know.

The Chinua-Borjigin clan is an off shoot of the Borjigin clan, the clan of the great Khan. And while Temujin never turned, a few of his siblings did. They took oaths to protect the emperors people. An oath they continue to uphold till today by working with the vigils.

Khoonbish was born with the potential to become a werewolf. Thus he was trained in the traditions of his ancestors. After the completion of his training, Ken's life seemed to lead him down a somewhat normal path. Then fate intervened and shortly after his twenty-seventh birthday Khoonbish lived up to his name, and became something that was not a human.

After receiving training on controlling his new found abilities Ken joined the Vigil his clan was a part of as a guardian. He was then trained in modern weaponry. While he worked under the jurisdiction of the vigil Ken encountered and occasionally worked alongside the Valkyries. He earned their respect and was eventually recruited to join their ranks.



Khoonbish walked the halls of the great tomb of Burkhan Khaldun wiping the blood from his eye. This sparring match with his cousin was more brutal then those before. Khoonbish didn't understand why his cousin was more aggressive than in previous bouts. Nor did he understand why there were more trainers keeping a closer eye on the contest. Giving his cousins aggressive behavior however, Khoonbish was pleased to have left the ring with only a split eyebrow.

As he approached his room he thought back to the last time he slept under the open sky. Khoonbish remembered it as being cooler on the plains. Slipping into his room he reached out and toggled the door lock. His exercises were finished for the day, he would not be leaving his room again till morning.

The young man stopped in front of the chipped mirror in his room, leaning towards it he studied the stitches in his eyebrow. A shame his first scar would be hidden under the hair he thought to himself, before wondering again at the heat in the normally cool chamber. Khoombish poured himself a glass of water and drank it thirstily.

Taking the ewer in both hands he raised it to his lips and began to chug the water. Khoombish didn't even hear the crash as the pottery slipped from his hands. Pain had erased all his sense. Clutching at his side, Khoombish could feel the heat flowing off his body. I've been poisoned raced through his mind as he was again racked with incredible pain.

His cry of anguish echoed back at him in the tiny room. Khoombish felt as though his flesh was on fire. Felt as though his muscles were being stretched and twisted. Just as he felt he could take no more pain it worsened. As a horrifying cracking sound filled the air Khoombish felt every bone in his body explode.

The Mongolian lay on the floor writhing in pain. The screams of the damned filled his room as his body elongated. As the minutes passed, the screams of anguish turned into guttural growls and finally an ear piercing howl. The creature clambered to its feet and howled again.

In the tortured remnants of Khoonbish's mind, he realized what he was. However he was overwhelmed by anger. An anger that lead to destruction.

Khoonbish regained control of his body, and his consciousness hours later. The destruction that met his eyes gave life to the nightmare. The sound of the warped door unlocking drew Khoonbish back from the pit of shock he had stood on the edge of. The werewolf's eyes rose to the face of the elder standing in the door frame. "Come pup," The elder said, "Time to renew your training."

[Aureyon]

Color me interested. I'm going to sleep so that i can approach this with a fresh mind.

Reserve me a space?

[Cfavano]

I know we technically already have a viking, but would it be possible for me to be a fallen Einherjar? Not evil, I mean he literally fell off of Valhalla.

Basically he got really drunk and got into an argument with Thor who shoved a lightning bolt up his ass and threw him back to earth. To get back he has to earn his spot again.

[Splat]

UGH THIS IS REALLY COOL BUT I DON'T HAVE ROOM FOR MORE RPs

UGH

but seriously i love this it kinda reminds me of hellboy

[The Lifted Lorax]

Reserving my space! I have an exam and my phone is being wonky so I haven't seen the spoilers but I'm drunkenly interested. Considering playing a shapeshifter of some sort, but will go normal human if we're in need.

[Griff]

So, uh, I'm interested, but I fear that this may be a bit too complicated for me XD I'm going to keep watching though, maybe I'll change my mind.

--edit

Reserve me a spot

[.Karma.]

I think I shall try this. Expect a CS from me today or tomorrow. :)

[Lleona]

Please reserve me a spot!!! I'll put up my cs later.

edit: CS



Name: Eve Crossfaith

Call Sign: Tigress

Gender: Female

[b]Race/Species:[b] Modified Human

Age

Real: 26

Apparent: 18

Appearance:


https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/e3/2b/ce/e32bceacd30fc343f65fa78d1ee9ff40.jpg




https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/3e/07/67/3e07672d0020d1dda3bae2c22072911a.jpg


Eve has a long black lustrous hair that is comparable to the night sky, heart shaped face with up-turned mesmerizing crimson eyes which is always drooping, thin eyebrows, long and thick lashes, button like nose and pinkish plump lips that is always set into a straight line. Her skin is fair, not too tanned or white. She has a slender body, which has a tattoo of a flower with torn's on her right side of the waist and long leg's . Her height is 180 cm with the weight of 135 pounds.

Her working clothes consist of black and red Long sleeveless trench coat with the air like and petals pattern in red and pocket like accessories on it waist with a belt hanging on it, black leather vest with red outline on the middle and it's edges, long gloves with the same patterns and color as the trench coat. For the inner wear, dark grey tight fitted off shoulder's shirt with a black fishnet on top. For the bottom black leather shorts, dark grey thigh high spandex like stockings and black and red boots with crisscross patterns in the middle of the shoes and garter that is wrapped around the thigh, the crisscross and the garter's outline is colored in red.


https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/33/09/01/33090189c8de95e66d63db382a9bea17.jpg


Personality: Eve is an introvert who is usually stoic and strict during work hours and mingle's with her co-worker's when needed too. When out of work she either, sleep, read or travel. To her, daily life is troublesome and would rather work all the time than stay at home. Towards her enemies, she is cruel and merciless like any Valkyrie would be, to protect the worlds balance.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities:

Regeneration- to be able to heal faster than normal human, like wound that would take one week to heal, will heal in two or three day's.

Pro-longed life- to be able to live more than the life expectancy of a human.

Strengthened Limbs- Increase in the flexibility, strength, toughness and agility of the body. (Able to fight with the same level as supernatural creatures. Since human body is fragile this feature is a must.)

Eagle Vision- It has the ability to zoom in and out her perception, the higher she is and the clearer the course is the sharper her eye sight becomes.
Heightened Hearing- The ability to hear sounds frequency and vibration from the air. This ability can be activated and deactivate on will like eagle vision.

Eidetic Memory- The ability to memorize any information with a glance, replicate it and incorporate it to her own knowledge.

Dual wielder- the ability to handle to weapon's at a time. As long that she know how to use the weapon she is using, she can use dual wielding.

Anima Control- the ability to use the precise amount needed when activating a spell or equipment.

Sharp shooter- the ability to operate guns within her knowledge. If coupled with eagle eye's it will become boosted.

Weapon Handling- the ability to use weapon's that she had trained on before. (Kusarigama, sword and gun's)

Close combat- the ability to fight on close quarters.

Anima circuit- The ability to create a path for the anime. In instance's the more you use the anime in the same way, like using anima with your hands. A direct circuit will be created from the anima pool towards the desired body parts. Though anima circuit can be only created 4 times. Creating more than 4 will take a toll on the body.

Anima Pool- the ability to widen the drawn anima from the soul. It's an ability not easily used since it is tied with danger.


Standard Loadout:

HK 9mm- Is a Runic riffling gun, it uses a 9mm luger bullet an has three types of firing. The first is non lethal, it's bullet is normal, and hasn't been inscribed by a rune. The second is High explosive, it's bullet is rune inscribed and will explode when it make's contact on the target. The third is rapid firing, it is a bullet inscribed with a speed rune, it's purpose is to surprise the enemy and to limit their dodging range. Eve owns two pistols which is hidden under her trench coat.


http://i30.tinypic.com/2zqcwgx.jpg


EG201 Shocker(Anima Gauntlet)- This is a weapon engraved with a lightning and strength run. It is used for close combat in case that she lost her main weapon. She had her gauntlet customized, she requested it to be less bulky, the finger tips slim and more like human but a little bit pointed. She also had the body be colored black and the circuit's red.



https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/2f/32/af/2f32af56fa89d8c8f51c4cfc4deb792b.jpg


Sora to Setsudan- An engraved relic, engraved with maintenance rune to keep it in perfect condition, slicing rune to easily slice her opponent's in half. It is a dual sword that is kept in her back.
http://www.trueswords.eu/ProductImg/Best-20-inch-hand-made-japanese-sword-tanto-black-blade-iron-tsuba-sharp-edge-b2.jpg


Disk Grenades- It's a disk like grenade that is activated by inserting anima. Upon activation it will count up to 10 before it explodes. She has two kinds of disk grenades. Explosive and Flash bangs. Explosive's has red outlines and flash bang's colored blue. Kept on her left hip pouch.

Ketsueki no yoru- A engraved relic, engraved with air rune, less gravity rune, toughness rune and maintenance rune. It has a considerable range for combat and sometime's used to bind enemy. It is hooked on her left hip with the hip pouch.

http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/shadowfight/images/9/9e/Weapon_super_kusarigama.png/revision/20150905124049


SG-NightedgeShiden2500- Her secondary weapon. The runes inscribed on it are similar to sora to setsudan.

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/59/28/8e/59288e84ebe411b39588fa8d34226961.jpg


Body Holster- Kept underneath her trench coat. It is the holder for her LP4 security pistol

http://www.eholster.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/650x/040ec09b1e35df139433887a97daa66f/s/h/shoulder-holster-all-front.jpg


Hip pouch- She has two of this on her both side of the hips. On her right hips, contains the bullets of her gun, compartment separated into three. On her left hip is the disk grenades, it also has three compartment's, the last storing medical pill's.


https://img1.etsystatic.com/103/0/5358468/il_fullxfull.853145605_pg2z.jpg

Boots- her boot's is inscribed with less gravity and resistance rune. It also has a knife on it's back and front. It can be activated by anima.






Eve was a normal american-japanese girl, she was supposed to be, until that day came. She was born on the eve of august 21, which her parent took and used to name her. She grew up with a loving mother and father. When she was five year’s old, her mom gave birth to a healthy baby boy. She was happy since she became an older sister. 2 year’s passed and it was eve’s birthday. It was six o’clock and they were at home, her mom was cooking and baking at the kitchen to prepare the food for her celebration, her dad and younger brother was at the living room, watching her younger brother’s favorite cartoon show. As for her, she was inside the bathroom, taking a bath.
She was excited like any other kid would be on her birthday, although she was a little bit sad since her friends won’t be able to make it on her birthday, since some of them caught a cold or their family was away on a trip. But for eve what’s important is that she was celebrating her special day with her family.
When she was finished cleaning herself, she hopped out of the tub and dried herself and went towards her room. She still might be a little kid, but she was mature compared to any 7 years old girl out there. She went to her room and dressed herself in her favorite red shirt and black shirt. She didn’t know why she is more fond with this color than pink, her mom was even afraid that she will grew up like a tomboy, but her dad was in favor of her being one. Saying in that way eve will stay his princess forever.

As she dressed herself, she suddenly heard a consecutive sounds of shot’s downstairs. Wondering what was that, she run downstairs. And to her shock, at the kitchen she saw her mom sprawled out on the ground with a hole on her forehead. She went towards her, tears streaming down her face. It was too much for a 7 yrs old to take, to see your mother in front of you would be traumatizing.

She didn’t know what possessed her, but she took a kitchen knife and headed towards the living room, knife near her chest, where she can hear her brother crying. When she reached the living room, she saw her brother being handled by a men roughly, her father was on the chair with the same hole on her mother’s forehead.
Rage filled up eve and ran towards their attacker to stab them. The attacker immediately noticed eve and disarmed her. The other attacker pointed a gun through eve’s head. She was giving them a glare that could kill, struggling trying to get out under her captor’s hold.
Then she heard the sounds of footsteps and a third figure appeared. To her it seems like his the head of this operation.

“Don’t kill her, she can be of use. She might be a little older already, but she holds potential.”
The third figure spoke while looking at eve with an amuse glint on his eyes. After that blackness colored her vision. When came up to, she was alone in a white room, cameras all over it, and a hospital like bed near the wall, where she was lying down. She started to get up, wincing a little from the pang of pain from her neck. She started to look around, wondering where she was. The incident last night appeared at her mind, tears streamed once more from her eyes. She immediately tried to find her little brother, but he was nowhere to be found. She didn’t know how long she cried to herself. She was afraid, no, terrified. She was terrified of what will happen to her and her brother.
As she cried to herself, the door opened. She raised her head up and saw two men dressed in white lab coats, one of them holding a clip board and the other pushing a cart filled with foods.

“Subject 1010, this is your dinner, be sure to eat it all. We need you to be in a top shape condition for the experiment.”

The man that was holding the cart, walked towards her and left the cart near her bed. Both of them immediately left when they were done with their task. Eve was confused. Experiment? Did they really mean it?, question’s filled her head. Her body started to shake from fear, she looked at the tray and saw delicious food all over it. Then her stomach rumbled, making her bite her lips. If she was an adult she would be able to hold it in and her will would have been stronger. But since she was just a child, hunger took over her. She got down from the bead and started to eat it quietly. When she finished all of her food, she went back and sat on the bed. Few hours passed and the two men came back and lead her outside. When she got out of the room, she saw a long corridor filled with door on both side. They lead her to the end of the corridor.

They continued walking until they reached a large door. They went inside. What she saw was all kinds of devices, a tank filled with green liquid was in the middle, all kinds of high end computer at the side and a bed with strap’s at the back. She was brought to the bed at the back with the surgical like equipment’s. Horror started to fill eye’s as they started to inject and cut her. Her scream’s resounded at the close room, seconds, minute, hours passed by. Her throat became hoarse from screaming, eyes blood shot from crying. This was too much for her, so at the middle of the operation she passed out.

Day by day they started experimenting on her. She has no idea how long it has been, her body changed. She acquired abilities that no normal human would ever have. On the 40th time that she was experimented on, she was already broken. The men were amazed that it took her that long before she came broken, she was turned into their favorite toy and was taught how to control anima, fight and handle weapons. They continued repeating, until she became their “Best experiment” so far.

But with that title came great torture, as their interest grew on her, the experiment done on her multiplied. It was the usual happening for her, she was now in the green filled tank, being injected with whatever drugs or liquid that they have on their hand, when suddenly the lab’s alarm rang out and the lab’s door was exploded. Fight broke out with the men of the lab’s and the new comer’s. In the tube she continued watching then with a dead filled eye’s. Thinking about nothing, just inside of it being motionless. The fight came to a stop, she saw a woman walked towards her tube and got her out from it. The woman’s look was cold and strict, but it didn’t affect her, for she was nothing. They brought her outside the lab, what she saw was hundred’s of kid’s like her being led out. What caught her eye’s was a stretcher, lying on it was a 14 yr’s old like boy, who looked like the same replica of her father. Life returned from her eye’s, she ran towards it.

Tear’s fell down from her eyes. Relieved that her brother was alive and filled with guilt that she gave up on him. She thought that he was dead, since the experiments were like a torture, and for a young kid like him, it would be too much to bear. But it seems like they really are blood related, since they held the will to survive all of that. The medic told her that he was in a comma, that the experiment done too him, took him longer to recover. She was once again in despair, her brother was alive, but he was still like the dead. The people that came to save them watched the girl cried out, but did nothing since nothing they will say can console the young girl. The people loaded them into a truck like vehicle and brought them to their head quarters.

As they were loaded into a truck, a man with a friendly like aura came towards her and gave her water and a napkin which she took. She drank the water and wiped her tears off with the napkin. She started asking questions, starting from “How long have they been held captive” “Who were the people that kidnapped them” and ending it with the question of “Who are the people that save them.” The man answered her. He told her that it’s been 12 years since the murder case of the Crossfaith family, the police was clueless about the case so they listed all of them as dead, even though they didn’t find the bodies of the children. For the people who kidnapped them, they were affiliated with the group they were casing which is called Ahnenerbe, they are a organization who was set on upsetting the worlds balance. As for who they are, they are the “Valkyries” they sought to protect the balance of the world.

Even though his story sounded silly, she believed him. For her who went through an unexplainable change and was experimented on with unidentified materials, there was nothing she wouldn’t believe. He told her that they will be bringing them to their head quarters, it would be their new family. Since some of them gained abilities that are impossible for a human to have, they cannot be immediately returned or sent to the human world. If they wanted to return, they must learn how to control and hide it from the human’s eye. Eve just nodded and thought about her brother.
She already decided that she will do her best to join them, she will stop the Ahnenerbe from committing the same crime’s or throwing the world out of balance. Since then she trained with the recruit’s, honed her abilities and tried to master them. She trained with them for 8yr’s until she finally became a full fledged Valkyrie.







It was a cold evening. The night breeze caressed eve’s cheek’s as she lied in wait for her opponent. Her gun was loaded with ammunition, weapon’s sharpen to perfection and abilities sharpened to the maximum. She was given the assignment to apprehend a group of human’s that were affiliated with the Ahnenerbe. This groups was the cause of supernatural disaster’s happening in the human world, upsetting the balance. As a Valkyrie, it’s her duty to capture them and set the world back in the state of balance.

Suddenly, the group she was tailing started to move. They went out of the warehouse and rode a truck, to ride towards the exit of the base. She continued to follow them on foot, waiting for the right time to attack. As she continued to follow them, they passed a forest, they were already a considerable distance from the base. If she were to ambush them, the sounds of fighting wouldn’t definitely reach them.

She readied one of her guns and aimed for the truck’s tire. With gun’s silencer on, she shot the trucks tire, making it hard for the driver to control the wheels. The trucked lost its balance and smacked into a tree. People who were safe from the crash started to come out with their weapon’s ready.

She smirked and changed her gun for her kusarigma named Ketsueki no Yoru, Bloody Night. She swung bloody night in a circular motion, slowly gaining her momentum for her attack. When she gathered enough momentum, she released it and aimed for the neck of the man who were near her position. Her blade passed through the man’s neck cleanly, making the said man’s head flew off, she pulled her blade back and switched position. The man’s headless body spurted blood and dropped to the ground, surprising his team mate’s. Their guard was immediately raised and pointed at the place where the chain and blade came from.

But when they took a look at it, the attacker was no longer there. Eve appeared from her behind them and in her hand was not Bloody night, but her katana Sora to Setsudan, Cutting Sky. She immediately slashed it towards the back of the man neared her, and killed him in one swift motion. She did that repeatedly until only one man was left. She walked towards the fallen man who was shaking and trembling from fear. A wet spot appeared from his crotch area. As he tried to escape, the man stumbled and fell on his rear. Eve continued to walk slowly, as if she was a predator stalking it’s pray. When she was in front of her, she placed her foot on the man’s stomach, stopping him from moving back any further. She raised her blade, aligning it with the moon’s position. Staring at the man beneath her with a cold and chilling gaze.

“For associating your self with the Ahnenerbe and disturbing the balance. I, as a Valkyrie will bring the world’s judgment on you.”

She pierced the man’s head, her blade passing through it, ending his pitiful life immediately. When he was confirmed dead, she immediately pulled her blade out from his head, making his head spurt out blood, with some staining her fair cheek’s and black and red leather boots. She raised her hand and placed it on the ear piece that was located on her ears for communication.

“This is eve, Code Mike: Stray’s have been terminated. Mission Complete. Over.”

She reported to her superior’s. She went towards the truck and picked up some of the gas and poured it all over the bodies. She lit up a fire and burned them. Making the fire destroyed the bodies one by one. Eve didn’t gave the dead bodies a second glance and left, heading back towards the head quarters with the thought of taking up a new mission.

[Dnafein]

I know we technically already have a viking, but would it be possible for me to be a fallen Einherjar? Not evil, I mean he literally fell off of Valhalla.

Basically he got really drunk and got into an argument with Thor who shoved a lightning bolt up his ass and threw him back to earth. To get back he has to earn his spot again.
Aside from the fact you'll essentially be playing an immortal, the apocalyptic ramifications of an Einherjar being on midgard would be disastrous. Of course that's if we ignore the fact that the term is the Halls of Valhalla. Meaning contained.

On another note, I would appreciate it if you could refrain from posting a video or number of large photos every page cf. I do occasionally use my phone still and it messes with the format of the page and makes it difficult to read. Plus I don't have to scroll through a bunch of unloaded images.

[StormWolf]

I know we technically already have a viking, but would it be possible for me to be a fallen Einherjar? Not evil, I mean he literally fell off of Valhalla.

Basically he got really drunk and got into an argument with Thor who shoved a lightning bolt up his ass and threw him back to earth. To get back he has to earn his spot again.
He'd be mortal, then, if not a powerful mortal. Rather than falling off, making a drunken gamble with Thor would make more sense.

[Cfavano]

Alright then. Would his centuries of combat experience and training still be a factor?

Also while he died semi-young (30) im gonna make him act like somewhat of a grumpy old man. As well as an alcoholic and well, sexist and crude. But thats just his culture.

[StormWolf]

Yes, his combat experience would be a factor, but modern weaponry would still be a new concept.

How you make his personality is entirely up to you, so long as he can (kinda) jive with the others.

[Cfavano]

He can. He might make some vulgar comments or jokes (like telling the story of the time he had sex with a bear, it didn't happen, but he tells it anyway), but he IS still a professional soldier, and understands the value of teamwork (doesn't mean he won't be all 'blah blah in my day when we wanted to kill a man, we did it with our bare hands like REAL men').

well, I'm going under the assumption that more and more people get coming to Valhalla, the Einherjar didn't just cap with the end of Norse culture, so modern soldiers would have come in too, and would have talked of what they did. And that's why he made the bet. In his mind, the exploits of the newer Einherjar were not as...heroic as the past ones, so the drunken bet he made was 'If this (the newer ones) passes for what the Gods call heroes, I wager I could do it a second time." Thor, being drunk as well and not realizing the implications (fate decrees that the gods will need EVERY Einherjar) agrees and has a valkyrie bring him back to earth.

When Thor sobered up he realised just how bad he screwed up and got an earful from his mother and father.

[StormWolf]

I look at it this way, Cf - only warriors who actively follow the Norse gods will get into Valhalla. Joan d'Arc wouldn't have gone to Valhalla. It would have been a slap to the face of her faith. With so few devoutly believing in the Aesir in so long, there would be few modern warriors in Odin's Hall, if any.

Does that make sense?

His wager could still be valid, as they could still perceive the various realities through the World Tree, but his modern firearms skills would be considerable less than his physical skills. Consider it a balance since he is basically superhuman with relic weapons.

Also...

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT:

I will be making an addendum to character sheets active immediately. When you submit your character sheet, be sure to PM to me their "Breaking Point(s)".

What is a Breaking Point? Pretty simple.

What is their Achilles heel? The crack in their armor? The vulnerable gap in their iron hide? Everyone has them, some are physical, some of psychological. I want at least one for each, but you are more than welcome to give me more. Make them interesting, honest, and real. When a Breaking Point is reached, a character may have some adverse effects and conditions thrust upon them. This doesn't mean madness, (though it can happen) but with every Breaking Point, characters will begin to get worn down and burned out. I expect the Players to reflect this in their writing if/when it happens.

Remember, Limitations > Power

[Cfavano]

Oh he refuses entirely to use guns. He sees them as the weapons of cowards. The most advanced ranged weapon hed ever use is an arbalest, and he didnt even do that.

[StormWolf]

Oh he refuses entirely to use guns. He sees them as the weapons of cowards.
Oh, he and Nathan are going to get along great, then :p

[Cfavano]

Not really. Nathan is a Saxon, remember?

My guy was at the battle of Stamford he was the Viking on the bridge.

[Dnafein]

Looks like storm forgot the [/sarcasm]

~~~~~~~~~EDIT~~~~~~~~

Posted

[Cfavano]

Name: Thrangeir the Giant

Gender: Male
[b]Race/Species:[b] Einherjar, Human, Scandanavian, from modern day Norway

Age (Real and apparent, if applicable): His biological age is 30, however, having died in the Battle of Stamford, in 1066, he is 980 years old.

Appearance:

Tharangeir is large, Giant, even. Topping Seven and a half feet, and well over two-hundred pounds of muscle and hate, in life, he inspired fear and awe, and in death, even more so. In Valhalla, he retained his lively, useful appearance, but on returning to earth, his skin has partially turned a corpse-like grey, His sea-green eyes constantly blood-shot, his teeth broken and yellow, and his fingernails blue. He is also gifted down south, and he calls it his 'longboat'.

He has blood-red hair, kept long and wild with several braids. His long beard is also braided. His hair and body is typically greasy and smells like sour beer, sweat, and other bodily excretions as he does not bathe often, only several times a month.

Personality: Bawdy, brawly, and bold are three adjectives to describe him. He is a proud and violent warrior, quick to anger, and always ready and willing to fight, drink, or fuck. He is loyal to his own whims, to gold, and to glory. Death holds no fear or mystery to him (having died once already). While he has no sense of honor, he does despise those who would resort to outright trickery or deceit in order to win a fight. Might makes right in his mind and the strong deserve to rule the weak.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities: As an Einherjar, he has physical capabilities beyond that of a normal human. His centuries of combat in the fields outside of the Great hall of Valhalla has honed his combat skills to a razor edge, mastering every weapon known to the Norsemen. Like other Einherjar, in this manner, he is the ultimate Warrior.

Outside of combat, it is said he has the hardest-working liver in the world, especially since he spent his nights in Valhalla drinking and feasting. To his disdain, the mead and beer of the modern world is far weaker than the sweet nectar he drank in Valhalla (in his own words 'My piss could get men drunker') Because of this, he can, and does, drink beer and mead by the quart, out of a large drinking horn, and rarely ever gets more than slightly buzzed.

He can also read and write.

His strength is that he can crush a man's skull in his hands, or rip someone's head off, as well as live heavy (https://youtu.be/e6jp_MKI_6w?t=167) and cumbersome (https://youtu.be/eSeX81-PzSI?t=16) items by himself. One time, he wanted to sneak out of the castle to bed a few whores in the nearby town, however the iron portcullis had been lowered. With his bare hands he lifted the portcullis enough for him to walk through, breaking the locks with his strength.

His endurance is such that he can basically fight and run all day, like he did every single day in Valhalla for centuries, in full armor. The temperature of the environment around him plays little factor, and he can go for days on little water and food. He can shrug off the pain of most non-lethal blows (getting beat about the head for centuries will do that to you)

He is quite good with a bow, befitting his training. He can hit a rabbit in the eye at 100 yards


Standard Loadout:

His gear on earth is not his own, he having plundered it from the barrows of fallen warriors. he had been given leave to do so by Decree of the God Odin himself. All are old, yet shine like new, and are rune-inscribed to never rust or break.

He has a Langseax
(http://i42.photobucket.com/albums/e340/fbiguy2006/10312039_10152157508058271_2912268238809205200_n.j pg) From the tomb of Lorfir the relentless, a swift raider, d. 980

A leaf-bladed spear of black steel, from the tomb of Hrundir the shield-maid, d.1045.

A round-shield of iron and black oak, from the tomb of Thendour the flatulent, d. 1005

A bow of dragon-bone, with a quiver of troll-hide, from the tomb of Sigismund the swift, d. 978

A special suit of armor made of tanned giant hide, with plates made from giant-bone, a material stronger than any iron, yet much lighter. This full suit from helm to boots, was pilfered from the tomb of a nameless warrior, and lends to its bearer a frightening appearance.



Background: Tharangeir was the fifth-born son of Heimdall, a Thegn of King Magnus I, and then later Harald Hardrada. Large even at birth, Tharangeir's mother died after childbirt due to being basically split open (she was a rather small woman, and Tharangeir was roughly the size of a six-month old at birth). Tharangeir had a taste for violence, even at a young age, torturing small animals, and tales of servants and smallfolk disappearing from the lands around his family's keep spread, as well as other tales of cruelty and violence such as when he nearly burned his brother's face off for stealing his toy.

Taught in the various arts of war, Tharangeir participated in many raids, and brought back much wealth in gold and slaves. He also had a taste for women, and it was never known how many bastards he sired among the commoners and female slaves of his household, but there were many.

Tharangeir later met his death during the battle of Stamford, fighting gallantly and gloriously on the only bridge across the river, and while his name was lost to history (perhaps to cover up how much of a horrible person he was), he was remembered as 'The Viking of Stamford Bridge (http://www.badassoftheweek.com/stamfordbridge.html)'.

After death he was brought up to Valhalla, where he was greeted by his ancestors and kinsmen, and for centuries he fought, fucked, and feasted with them, ever growing more and more disgusted with the state of the world. To the point that, one night, he and Thor got alarmingly drunk, and he made a wager that the new crop of Einherjar (as the worship of the Norse Gods had not completely gone away, just diminished) was so poor, that if these cowards could get into Valhalla, he could do so a second time. Thor, being delightfully soused, agreed, and had a Valkyrie carry him back to earth, and dumped him in the Courtyard of the castle the Valkyries used.

When Tharangeir woke up...he was not happy. Three doctors died, as well as four guards, and it took several lorge darts filled with Ketamine to finally take him down. He eventually calmed down after seven months, and is now using his position to win himself enough personal glory to get back into Valhalla, not caring one iota about the ACTUAL conflicts of earth.



RP Sample:

This was the end, Tharangeir knew it. He saw his life flash before his eyes, and he knew death awaited him. He heard the raven's song as a wall of Saxons and their gleaming weapons, still wet with the blood of his compariots advanced towards him. There would be no escape, no surrender, and no quarter would be given. This day would be his last day, and no one would be there to bury him, he would never see his family ever again. He faced his doom...and he smiled.

Taking his axe in both hands and unleashing a mighty warcry, Tharangeir, son of Heimdall, laid about himself on both sides with mighty blows upon his enemies. Dozens fell to his mighty strikes, while none of their blades could do more than scratch him. Bodies and limbs piled up on the bridge, forcing the Saxons to climb over their own dead to get to him, only to die on unsteady feet as the axe came down upon them. For an hour this went, and the river ran red with blood.

But this story would not end in victory. There were too many, and as all know, Saxons have no honor. So it was by trickery that Tharangeir fell, a nameless coward, who was forever tormented in Hel for his cowardice, floated on a barrel underneath the bridge, and thrust upward with his spear, piercing Tharangeir's manhood. Tharangeir fell to his knees as his foes rushed over him and across the bridge. His world went silent, he no longer noticed the pain, the blood flowing from his pierced body. He felt a touch on his shoulder, a beautiful woman with golden eyes and red hair, wearing a coat of swan feathers. She looked upon him and smiled, fiercely and fondly, and spoke his name in a voice full of light. She cradled his head in her arms, as the last of his heartsblood spilled, staining her Swan-coat. When he awoke, he was in the Hall of Valhalla, and was welcomed as a hero.

[StormWolf]

Looks good, Dna. Accepted.

Cf:
-I'd prefer a written description rather than what's-his-ginger from GoT.
-No Aesir weapons, sorry. If you wish him to carry Hrunting, sure.
-No vibranium/vibranium accessories.
-Norse didn't have flachions so much as the "langseax". Generally same use, but different structure and nuance if you are making a viking.
-More detail on his powers and abilities. What is his threshold? Can he shoot lightning from his ass? These are questions that need answering.

That's all until you get the rest done.

[Cfavano]

Not even Aesir-forged? Like stuff Siegfried carried.

Also, wasn't hrunting a weak and powerless weapon? Or am I thinking of a different one?

[StormWolf]

The crucifix was also a simple means of torture before a particular person died upon it.

I'm wary to let anyone start off with weapons forged in a different Plane, let alone those forged by aesir gods. You gotta earn those, man.

[Griff]

Hrunting was strong against everything but Grendel's mother
so unless you have to fight Grendel's mother you'll be good~

[Dnafein]

Beowulf's mother or Grendel's mother?

[Griff]

errr.

Yes Grendel's mother

I shouldn't write things when I'm not awake yet

[SikstaSlathalin]

“Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn!”

Name: Salazar

Gender: Boy

Callsign: Ghost Rider

Race/Species: Manic Human

Age (Real and apparent, if applicable): 45



http://i821.photobucket.com/albums/zz139/Siks/RPs/gunman11_zpsjsluqgp9.jpg (http://s821.photobucket.com/user/Siks/media/RPs/gunman11_zpsjsluqgp9.jpg.html)

Under his mask Salazar is a man of character and feature. Completely bald and covered from head to toe with bizarre markings of unknown origin. His skin is fair and dotted with scars from his former life.

A 6'1 fighter's build with defined muscle and taut skin, the strange tattoos continue across his body in a random patterns and it is said if one stares at him long enough they'll be hypnotized...or get smacked with a frying pan for being a peeping tom. While his entire body is remarkable his eyes are quite mundane by comparison. A simple deep brown that darts from side-to-side as if expecting trouble at all times. On mission he dresses as above, a long many belted trenchcoat with metal studs poking up across his shoulders and arms. He wears black combat gloves with magic channeling material under the sturdy layer of leather. Like the rest of his outfit his utility belt is also black leather and the pouches are filled with mission sensitive gear. He wears black camo fatigues and classy pointed shoes with non-rubber soles that also help him channel magic. His mask is a mixture of technology and magic while made of fine burlap it can withstand blade strikes and when he pushes some of his Anima into it the eyes and mouth light up with a usually fear-inducing sickly white glow.

Outside of missions he can usually be found in a bathrobe and on good days he even wears jeans and a t-shirt under it.




Salazar's personality is the product of years of normal military training, Spec ops training, and most recently extreme reconditioning methods by the Cult of the Second Son who wanted to make a super weapon.

The man is an unhinged mess and can actually be split into three different personalities which ironically coincide with each phase of his life. The Solider, the Agent, and the Manic. Sometimes the changes are subtle; other times it's like throwing an M-80 into a room of sleeping Elephants.

The Solider: Thankfully this is Sal's most frequent and amicable personality. He's your typical solider, hard-working, reliable, lusty, and safe to be around. He laughs, he jokes, he plays grab ass. The type of guy you can get drunk with one day and rely on to watch your back in a hot LZ the next.

The Agent: This is one of the personalities Sal falls into when he's in danger or going on a dangerous mission. Gone is the jolly solider boy only the grim faced Merc whose seen too much and done too many dark deeds to allow joy to enter his life remains. He's all business and is quick to crack down on anyone fucking off when lives are on the line. He pulls the trigger and never ask questions.

The Manic: An extremely dangerous state of mind for Salazar and anyone around him. This is the personality that has built up his killcount and earned him the most trouble. He loves to kill and laughs when he does so. When this mask is on it's better to just point him at an enemy and go the opposite direction. He kills and destroys until the bloodlust passes.




Powers: Sal's powers were forced upon him by the Cult of the Second Son. He was sublimely forced to absorb the collected works of John Dee, namely The Speech of God. For hours and days on end he was chained to a chair while being pumped full of ethereal energy and listening to a recorded loop of the Cult's leader reading the books over and over again. He only has three mystical powers at the moment and he must communicate with his Guardian Angel in the Third Sphere of Heaven and ask permission before he can use them. This can take a few seconds of steady concentration. He has the power to heal with Holy Heal, the power to bless and enhances his allies with Divine Light, and the power to severely damage Unholy things with White Fire.

Holy Heal: The longest of the three spells to activate. Holy Heal surrounds the afflicted with golden light and patches minor wounds and burns fairly quickly. The more severe the wound the longer it takes to heal.

Divine Light: This spell is in the middle range of time needed to activate. The recipient is imbued with white light and depending on the situation one attribute can be bolstered for a set time. Be it strength, speed, durability, etc Sal needs to be physically touching the individual to activate Divine Light.

White Fire: This is the quickest of his three spells and the only one that can be used offensively. It can be used like a fireball or fused into blades and bullets to make them deal Holy Damage. It can only be used on Unholy things though, not even bad humans can be harmed by it and it can even backfire on him if he does attack anything but the Unholy.

Abilities: While his powers are useful Sal's real skill lies in his military training. Over twenty years of fighting for freedom and money, have given Salazar a potent repertoire of ways to kill others.

Expert Marksmen: Able to shoot the eye of a Harpy at two-hundred yards, Sal's skilled with pistols, shotguns and rifles. But only goes as high as Semi-auto he's never been a fan of automatic weapons.

Sword-fighter: Enjoying the elegance and reputation attached to swords. Salazar is a skilled blade fighter able to wield big swords or dual-wield smaller ones if it's pointy and stabby he can use it.

Combat Medic: When he just doesn't have the time to use his healing powers Sal is proficient as a Field Medic and often carries the groups Med supplies on him.

Survivor's mindset: When you have lived the life Sal has you develop the mindset of a true survivor. Unafraid of death, willing to do anything to see tomorrow, and able to face down the most vile of people and creatures and crack a number of witty one-liners.

Brawler: Though not a favored skill, Sal can take a beating and throw-down with a combination of Pankration and panic fists.

Tricky: Due to his training and unstable mind Salazar can be a very unpredictable man in a close fight and has been known to use the land to his advantage.



Salazar's loadout is very mission dependent and to an extent dependent on his mind at the time. But no matter what is going on he always has fire making tools, holy objects of power, and information on a magically resistant PDA to tap into.

The Solider favors guns over melee and he carries two .45 caliber pistols and a
bolt-action Remington rifle all able to take normal rounds or special silver rounds.

The Agent favors melee over ranged and he carries two katanas, a tactical tomahawk, and an extending metal staff.

The Manic has no weapon preference and has been known to use anything he can get his hands on to kill and destroy from broken pipes to a crane he once used to drop a shipping crate on the target.


For most of his life Salazar was named Riley and lived a good life. His family was upper-middle class and he was a star in school. He joined the Army at seventeen with hopes of earning a few bucks and getting his degree in Graphic Design. He signed the papers with a smile and expected his life to be filled blazing glory. In short...it wasn't, the training was far more difficult than he expected and his unit was full of assholes.
As the reality of life in the military dawned on him he was just waiting for his contract to be up, his degree to be earned, and never look back. He got his bachelor's degree a month before his stint was to be up, but work for a Graphic Designer was impossible to come by so despite his parents and his better judgement saying no he re-upped for a further six years and was stuck for life. Each time his contract was coming up money troubles and lack of work would force him to pick up that pen and sign his soul away once again.

For twenty years Riley was a warrior, Fifteen in the normal rank and file and as his contract ended for the last time he had enough money to get out, but killing was all he knew so he joined a group Black Op Mercs at his first chance and ran with them for five years. Flying out on missions all over the globe and killing people he couldn't even pronounce the names of. He never asked the why of it, just did what he only knew to do, follow orders. It was his last mission with the Mercs that set him on the final chapter to be becoming Salazar. He was in the desert...again...hunting supposed terrorists again...going on very little intel...again. All and all this mission looked to be like any other, but the group wasn't the usual Taliban dress wearers, they were called the Cult of the Second Son and apparently they were a group of Conspiracy Theorists who believed God had a another son and that this one was the true Messiah and Jesus was just a ploy so God wouldn't lose his favorite offspring.
The team landed and that was the last time Riley saw the sun and the last time he was named Riley. The mission went to hell quick and the group of Spec Op soldiers was murdered by magic slinging zealots. All but Riley, he was captured alive and apparently was the reincarnation of God's Second son. They just needed to unlock the Divine presence from it's human shell and then they could use the wraith of the Denied Son to rid the world of evil. That meant ten years of torture both physical and mental, if he wasn't being beaten with metal crosses he was being forced to listen to the Cult's leader rant on and on about the Speech of God while he was being bathed in strange magical beams that made him glow like a spotlight for hours afterwards.

He forgot his own name and took the name of the Denied Son Salazar. They had almost had him convinced too, but one faithful day on what Salazar later found out to be his 40th birthday the Valkyries stormed the Cult's compound and wiped the group out. Salazar was kept in the innermost sanctum and he was too out of it to even notice them busting the door down. He was muttering the first book in the strange tongue the cult leader used and only looked up when he felt a cold gun barrel placed against his head. His eyes were glazed over and unmoving and his lips constantly moved around the words. It was actually Nate who stayed the would-be executioner's hand, he knew some of Salazar's pain and the power pulsing off the prisoner couldn't be ignored. They took him away and have spent five years slowly bringing Salazar back to reality using white magic, modern meds, and patience.
What did the most good for him though was sending him on missions, the fighting and using hard-wired skills allowed Salazar to maintain his grasp on reality even if he has permanent mental damage from the torturing. Now Salazar is on the verge of having a clean bill of health, he's stable, lucid, and no longer thinks he's actually the Second Son of God.




The Denied Son of God....Salazar...harbinger of the true might of God... The words were emphasized by horrendous scenes of baseball bats and spiked clubs pummeling purple flesh and breaking already broken limbs. The words grew louder and louder until Salazar leapt from his bed shooting an entire mag of his pistol into the far wall. Even after it was empty the man kept pulling the trigger trying to kill the ghosts of his past.

Feet came thundering down the hall and soon Salazar's door was ripped open and in came two of his fellow Valkyries. An Orc named Dire and a woman named Mildra and her Wolf, they were both armed and the dog had his teeth bared and the hair bristled along it's thick black hide. Dire only snarled, his saber glistening in the firelight but Mildra spoke holstering her weapon and walking slowly up to the still dreaming man as he continued to yank uselessly on the gun's trigger. She's been Salazar's neighbor for the five years since the team rescued him. At least once a week this happened so she was used to it and knew exactly how to bring the killer back to reality. Motioning for Dire to leave she took her gun belt off and handed it to her dog who clamped it in his teeth and sat by the door. Reaching for the gun she began singing a simple lullaby (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4n0EM6ucZbw) to him. The woman had the voice of an angel with just enough motherly affection that the horrors of Salazar's past began to vanish. His breath stilled and his eyes became focused again, he allowed the woman to to take the empty gun and pulled the tall man into a firm hug holding him close until he wrapped his arms around her tears streaming down his tattooed face.

Despite being an Amazon from a culture where such affections were frowned upon Mildra held onto Salazar allowing his hot tears to dampen her short toga. From the start Mildra and Salazar had been close, they've been through many missions and were actually paired up a lot so even when you're hunting nightmarish monsters there are lots of stake-outs and time to kill between the bouts of action. They spoke and the Brass told her to be open and let him do the talking she was part of his therapy even before she knew he needed it. That developed into this, her singing to him in the wee hours of the morning and hugging him until he stopped shaking. Tonight it was only needed for three minutes, the man's tears dried up and he released the Amazon smiling softly at her.
"You may have to move your bed in here instead of busting my door down every night."

The dark-haired woman chuckles giving the solider a firm punch in the arm.
"And risk you shooting me instead of the wall? I don't know you'd need to be one hell of roommate big guy. How about we just head to the training room and spar a bit."

Feeling like his Solider self Salazar chuckled going to his dresser and grabbing his gym clothes.
"So you can kick my ass and put me too sleep? You sure you just don't want to show off that new sleeping toga you got?" He winked looking the white mid-thigh length garment up and down.

Giving a small spin Mildra winked back whistling a command to her dog who simply huffed and turned around walking the Amazon's pistol-belt back to her room.
"Well it certainly helps with distracting you so I don't have to deal with any of your cheap Merc tricks."

This got a rich laugh from Salazar as he finished wrapping his hands and feet in boxing tape before tossing it to the woman heading for the door.
"Hey those cheap merc tricks saved your fine ass a few times remember?"

Mildra only laughed following Salazar out of his room wrapping her own hands in the tape.
"Once or twice more like it."

[Megilwen]

Can I do Kassie/Oracle again?

[StormWolf]

I believe Gambit is currently taking a crack at the Oracle, but if Gambit decides not to or the cs doesn't pan out, you are welcome to it.
Otherwise, you are still welcome to apply.

[Megilwen]

I will only play Kassie in this.

If the spot is not available, that''s fine. Let me know if it is. Otherwise have fun.

[Cfavano]

You can still be kassie, just she might be a different role XD

Huh, now, how to reword my guy.

Storm, what are the mythological rules for Norse magic stuff?

[Cfavano]

would it be easier if I just played like a Mountain Giant or a troll?

[SikstaSlathalin]

Probably, but try to build away from the cliches.

[StormWolf]

would it be easier if I just played like a Mountain Giant or a troll?

No, not at all. A mountain giant wouldn't be able to blend in for the more discrete operations, let alone actually fit inside the Rampart. Trolls are generally selfish, self absorbed, greedy, antagonistic, and run for President. They're not the best fit for a covert team tasked to protect the world from preternatural threats.

[Griff]

Name: June Arles

Gender: Female

Race/Species: Human

Age (Real and apparent, if applicable): Fourteen.

Appearance:
June is very tall for her age and gender, standing at five feet and ten inches and at an average weight of 146 pounds. Her body is very straight, with barely any curves and small breasts. She has smooth medium-brown skin and mousish facial features, with a petite nose and mouth and large green eyes. She has very curly and unruly fair hair that flows down to her shoulders. She is of a very willowy build and has a childlike appearance despite her height.

Personality: Unaware of how much of the world works, she is often confused and annoyed by references or jokes that she doesn’t understand. Prone to teenage mood swings, she often lashes out at people unprovoked, even unintentionally. When not sulking, June is mainly lethargic and unresponsive. She cares deeply for her comrades and Nathan, who she sees as a father, despite not always expressing it.

Nathan is one of the only people that June truly loves, her personality changing into more of a childlike glee when around him.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities:
Average Marksman: Growing up around Nathan gave her the chance to learn from him. While not fantastic, she can shoot a human-sized target with decent accuracy from 30 yards away. She does not get many chances to practice, but if she had the chance she could improve greatly.

Average Knife Skills: She has learned the methods and moves involved in using a knife to attack, but has not had very much practical experience using what she knows. She can throw a knife and hit a target 3 yards away, but doesn’t have the strength for anything farther than that.

Oracle: June is an Oracle, as such she can experience the World-Dream, and have visions. She also has terrible nightmares as a consequence.

Spatial Memory: A fairly good knowledge of math and memory allowed June to be able to tell distances and layouts of rooms with precision and accuracy. For example, if you saw a target, but weren’t sure if your weapon had enough range to shoot at it June could calculate whether or not you could.

Anima Spider Earring: Able to channel their Anima through an amber earring in the shape of a spider on her left ear. June can create a small wall of fire that she can use as a limited shield, a source of light, or an attack. This drains a lot of her Anima however, so she uses it sparingly.

Anima Web Earring: Able to channel their Anima through a hematite earring in the shape of a web on her right earring. Channeling her Anima through this allows June to create a calming aura around her and people near her. She uses this to calm herself down after a nightmare or to withstand a psychic attack, which she is very vulnerable too.

Standard Loadout:
M1911 Pistol (https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/26/M1911A1.png/1024px-M1911A1.png): Chambered for .45 ACP rounds, with an extended magazine of 12. Custom engraved with a hexagram rune, if Anima is channeled through it the gun can be silenced, but it uses a significant portion of June’s Anima so she hardly ever uses it.

Silver Athame (http://www.abaxion.com/sq286.jpg): A silver ritual knife with an ornate handle. Can be used against werewolves and vampires. The weapon is sheathed on her side.

Wooden Athame (http://www.abaxion.com/fous62.jpg): Carved out of willow wood, this ritual knife is best used against stragoi. The knife is sheathed at her side, opposite from the silver athame.

Amber Spider Earring (http://i.ebayimg.com/images/g/CjcAAOSwRLZUGgmD/s-l300.jpg): An enchanted earring given to her as a gift. When used to channel Anima it creates a wall of fire that can be used for protection, light, or as an attack.

Hematite Web Earring (http://www.thinkgeek.com/images/products/zoom/1726_spider-man_web_crystal_dangle_earrings.jpg): An enchanted earring given to her as a gift. When used to channel Anima it creates a calming aura that can be used to lessen the symptoms of a psychic attack on June and the people around her.

Background:
The child of Valkyrie member Miranda, she was born fourteen years ago to a scene of chaos. Her mother had been kidnapped by the Scions of Zosimos and the Valkyries barely fought them away before she used the last of her Anima to deliver June into the world. Suddenly the Valkyries had a newborn to deal with. Nathan made the promise to take care of her, and with the rest of the Valkyries she grew up.

Oh, a bit of helpful information, June is an oracle.

Because of this little fact, June hardly ever left The Rampart, like a dog kept in a kennel. She was mostly fine with this. Nathan was the best, like the father she never had. The other Valkyrie were friendly, even as they kept watch over her, and The Rampart was a good place to practice using her Anima, even though it was slightly cramped.

Around when she turned seven she started experiencing the World Dream, and soon followed the horrifying nightmares and visions. After that she was given her first enchanted earring and learned how to use her Anima to calm herself.

The older she got the more restless she became. She wanted to explore, to go on whatever fantastical adventures Nathan and the other Valkyrie went on. In an effort to appease her some of the Valkyrie taught her some basic shooting and knife skills, but she was still bored of The Rampart. June was also given her other earring, an amber spider that she could create fire with.

Growing bored, June could only wait until someone let her go out into the field with them.

RP Sample:
June jolted awake with a start, breathing heavily. Screwing her eyes shut she shook away the remnants of her nightmare as her breaths came in fluttering gasps. Holding back her hushed whimpers she pulled her knees up to her chest and felt her heartbeat start to slow. Setting her head on her knees she let her hair fall into her face, some of it sticking due to sweat.

Grabbing her web earring on the nightstand next to her she discretely channeled some Anima into it, creating a calming aura around herself, relieving some of her stress. The warm glow comforted her a bit, but she still felt tremors in her hands.

Peeling off her now damp shirt and shorts, she changed into new sleeping clothes and went back to her bed, trying to relax. Burying herself in her blankets, she looked at the picture of her mother and Nathan, the familiarity of the picture calming her somewhat. Covering herself with her blankets and pillow she fell into a dreamless sleep.

[SikstaSlathalin]

I stand corrected then, sorry CF. XD

Maybe you can think up a mundane style char to play CF.

[Cfavano]

are you sure we mean the same kind of trolls?


http://67.media.tumblr.com/a90f7066a76b47ef34c4e0f91e5bdc25/tumblr_o6ar2ix4mn1uz516oo1_1280.png

[StormWolf]

The reincarnated viking was fine as a concept, it just needed some work.

A Danish would probably be the only one that would fit.

[Cfavano]

I'll just stick with my Einherjar.

On another note, Humon, the artist, is a great artist. She does a lot of norse stuff


http://66.media.tumblr.com/6b29be69a288789572ff2b1b61b034ed/tumblr_nzmrva4nSQ1uz516oo1_1280.png

[StormWolf]

Looks good, Gambit. Accepted.

I'll start adding people to the roster today.

[Griff]

yosh, thanks :)

[SikstaSlathalin]

Salazar is mostly done just need to do his RP sample.

Y'all got a Manic Cleric on your side. XD

[Cfavano]

oh god a christian. this'll be fun

[.Karma.]

Name: Kyra Marie Rosen (Callsign: Archangel)

Gender: Female

Race/Species: Human

Age (Real and apparent, if applicable): 26, she is sometimes mistaken for a bit younger given her small stature. (22-24)

Appearance: Kyra has dark brown wavy hair that hangs to her shoulders. With dark blue eyes that can almost freeze the soul if she’s angry. She stands at about 5’4”, but she uses her height or lack therefore to her advantage, making sure that she is fast and lithe. Her body style is small and thin, with muscles of someone who mildly works out, but could easily be overpowered by a man of normal stature if it came down to pure hand to hand combat.

She has a full back piece tattoo of angel wings in which she can channel her Anima to her body.

Personality: Cold and calculating, Kyra always weighs the risks before getting into a situation. Whether it be in her everyday situations or on a mission. She does a lot more thinking than talking and often comes off as rude or a bitch. She does not lack humor, but hers is far more dry and sarcastic, and she often doesn’t find things funny that others do. Social skills are not her forte, and she is often quiet or gives short answers. It takes a lot to get past her walls and get her to loosen up or talk. She prefers to observe someone and often chooses whether she likes them before ever meeting them.

She knows that others view her as cold and uncaring, and she rarely addresses it, nor does she care how others see her. Kyra’s icy front can be warmed, though, and she is quite loyal to those she calls 'friend' and would put her life on the line for them. She cares a lot, she just does not express it well or really express anything well. She also has a soft spot for ‘innocents’ such as children and animals.

Just as hard as it may be to make her laugh, it is just as hard to make her truly angry. If it does happen, though, she holds a decent grudge and does not forgive easily.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities:
Marksmen: She is a skilled sniper, and can channel her Anima to her eyes making her be able to see further and hit a target at 3000yds when channeling her Anima. She has a steady hand and a good eye. Without channeling her Anima, she can hit a target at 2000 yards.

Speed: When in close combat she can channel her Anima through her tattoo on her back to increase her speed, which helps when she uses her daggers. This speed can last for about 15 minutes before it begins to use too much of her Anima source.

Calmness: Kyra has an uncanny ability to stay calm and calculating even in very intense and dangerous situations.

Camouflage: Being a skilled sniper, she is also very good at blending into her surroundings, and can move almost silently in most situations.

Standard Loadout:
Accuracy International AWM (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Accuracy_International_AWM#/media/File:L115A3_sniper_rifle.jpg) - Kyra keeps this strapped to her back and it is engraved with relics to reduce recoil.

Dual daggers (http://www.trueswords.com/images/prod/c/draco_twin_dagger_540.jpg)- One is steel, the other silver for humans and monsters alike. They are engraved with ancient Hebrew text. “I am the Light, the Way” and they shine bright when all other lights have gone out. She keeps them sheathed at her hips in a leather sheath.

G21 Gen4 pistol (https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3915/15091959356_1e34e4e824_o.jpg) - She has silver encased bullets for this that are engraved to ground the target and stop their Anima flow. This is not a weapon she uses often, but she likes having on hand. She has a customized grip for her small hand sized. This is holstered on the backside of her right hip.

Background:
Kyra had a strict military background. Her father was part of the Massad Occult division, so she has known about the things that lurk in the dark from the time she was small. He protected the people of Abraham and raised her to do the same.

Although she wasn’t the son that he had hoped for, he treated her no different. She began training with gun and swords as soon as she was big enough to hold them. He told her stories of the supernatural and had her study hard the supernatural creatures and how to defeat them should the need arise for it. He was not a mean man, but was strict and serious in his duty and raised her to be the same. He did not mind mistakes but worked with her to correct them and taught her to do everything to the best of her ability.

He was to be respected and obeyed and what he was teaching her was no laughing matter and was not a game. It made her a serious child, and not very accepted by her peers. This definitely hindered her in a social aspect, but she excelled in her training and studies.

As soon as she was old enough, she joined the military. With what her father had already instilled in her and prior training, she quickly moved up the ranks and was also recruited into the Massad Occult division.

Kyra’s preferred weapons are her dual daggers in which she is deadly within close combat, and even more so when she channels her Anima to increase her speed. She was young, but her versatility in weaponry and her almost pinpoint accuracy with her sniper rifle made her one of the best in the division. She had to use a variety of weapons in the Massad and has general knowledge of most common weapons and can shoot them with better than average skills.

Because of her skill in the Massad Occult division, the Valkyrie took notice and drafted her to their forces.


RP Sample:
Breathe in, breathe out. Finger on the trigger. Both eyes open. Kyra’s small frame laid in the grass, unmoving. Her dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail to not hinder her vision. The sleek rifle rested on her shoulder as if it belonged there in her embrace.

The shot rang out through the field causing birds to fly in the air and run away with the sudden noise breaking the almost complete silence that had surrounded her moments before. Kyra focused on the target that she had set up 1000 yards away, and the shot went through where the neck would be should it have been a real target.

Letting out an inaudible sigh, Kyra pulled back the bolt, loaded another round and prepared to shoot again. Her small hands moved with skilled grace and speed as she loaded, and now adjusted herself slightly, only taking one breath out before pulling the trigger again and the noise rang through the area again, following the same routine. This time, though, she watched the shot hit between the eyes and she nodded her head at herself.

There could never be enough training or enough practice. In order to keep one’s skill, you must exercise it and she wasn’t going to allow herself to get lax. Pulling back the bolt again and preparing for yet another shot she aimed for a target she had set further away.

How long had she been out here? The sun was beginning to set, the hues of red and orange coloring the sky, but that didn’t matter to her. Admittedly, this was not how most twenty-six year-olds spent their Friday nights, but she was not most. This was relaxing to her, it was her happy place. Alone in a field, just her and Kane (yes, she named her gun), the only man she would ever need.

[SikstaSlathalin]

I played a Christian the last two times this RP came 'round CF. Paladin Auriel of the Broken Cross remember?


Either way Salazar is all done.

[Cfavano]

Yes, but then I didn't play someone who was actively resisting christianity, and raided countless monasteries.

Who has two thumbs and is an unrepentant pagan and has plundered tonnes of wealth? That guy

[SikstaSlathalin]

Well Auriel would have issue with him, but Salazar will just mock your guy when he gets hurt or messes up.

[Dnafein]

Who has regularly played a pagan and had little to no issues with anyones religion. The werewolf who likes to ride horses.

We have a few Christians, a jew, a Mongolian and a Viking who cares?

[Cfavano]

well, honestly, you've all had time to mingle. My guy died in 1066 and basically just entered the modern world liek a year ago.

[Dnafein]

Time to mingle or not the games not gonna be about your character. And this isn't an IC thread. So comments like


oh god a christian. this'll be fun

Aren't necessary especially without applying context. I didn't even know Tormund was attempting to resist anything much less Christianity. So the statement appeared to be ones personal opinion, without context.

If you want your character to have an issue with another players character that's something you should probably work out through vms or ic. Or you could actually say something along the lines of. "Hey siks, our characters are probably gonna get into a religious spat or two."

[Cfavano]

that's what I meant, that my guy would not get along with his, as he is a priest.

I am genuinely sorry for the vonfusion, I thought I made it clear. I was wrong. I apologize

[Dnafein]

It's not confusion Cf, It's something you need to work on. You need to say what you mean instead of just popping out whatever comes to mind. The comment I quoted was borderline disrespectful. And you've made that same comment 9or one real close) in every Valkyrie ooc thread so far.

One of these times your gonna pop off one of those comments and I'll have to have this discussion not as someone who wants you not to get in trouble but as a mod responding to a reported post. Your a nice enough dude, and seeing you get in trouble because of something like that isn't something that I wanna see.

I'm asking you as a friend to stop before hitting the post button and ask yourself, "Am I expressing myself in a clear concise manner? Or could this be mistaken for something else?"

[Griff]

Okay tbh a character that hates Christianity probably wouldn't be a great Valkyrie
(Same as how someone who had a rampant killer personality wouldn't be that great a candidate)

*But those are still good characters, I think I should add :)*

[.Karma.]

Okay, I feel like we are kind of attacking Cf a bit here. He said sorry for one thing. Second of all, these things can be handled by Stormwolf who is a good GM and I'm sure will sort out cfav's character and if he feels that there are attitudes out of line.

[Cfavano]

no it is my fault.

I have a tendency to not look before I leap and i wrongly assume that people know what I'm thinking.

Also, gambit, in the last iteration, I played a character that predated Christianity. an egyptian vampire

[Rha'az]

Prof. Abraham Helsing's descendant comin' through!

"Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn!"

Name: Samuel Helsing

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Age: 29

Personality: Samuel's poker face has made peoplle into believing him as a cold and perhaps merciless vampire hunter. Deep inside him, Samuel battles against his depression and emotional pain as he loses his whole family in a fire, his parents, siblings, cousins. Despite all this, his mind is unlike most of the humans, possessing a vast knowledge in alchemy, most supernatural creatures (especially vampires) and also in history (he's a history buff though).

However, due to his status as a descendant of a master vampire hunter, namely the famous Professor Abraham Van Helsing, Samuel tends to over analyze situations which leads to dire consequences, becoming his own Breaking Point.

Appearance:
https://user-assets.sharetribe.com/images/listing_images/images/558556/big/img_3619.jpg?1466082075
Samuel stands at 1.8m (sorry for using the metric system, I know only that), possessing a rather tough build. He had no visible facial hair or any scars despite being involved in several hunts against the vampires. Samuel can be usually seen wearing all black, from his coat, 'undershirt', pants, shoes and gloves.

Powers, Traits & Abilities:
History Buff - As stated earlier, Samuel is a history buff thanks to the amount of books he had stored in his family's mansion. He started to learn history since he was 10 and grew fond of it.

Alchemy - Knowledge in alchemy has been crucial in making a master vampire hunter. The ability to know what type of ingredients and to apply it in alchemy, Samuel knows most 'potions' that are effective against the prowlers of the night.

Supernatural Anatomy - Samuel, being a vampire hunter knows the weaknesses and the strengths of his family's sworn enemies. It is a mandatory for all vampire hunters to possess the knowledge of a vampire's traits.

Vampiric Presence - Samuel has been trained for years to sense vampires using his Anima. However, he can only sense vampires in a 10m radius.

Eyes of the Night - Samuel can use his Anima to see clearly in the dark but only for a short period of time in order to prevent exhaustion from prolonged use of the Anima.

Standard Loadout:
A composite bow, which Samuel favors more than the usual crossbow and each arrow is inscribed with runic letters, blessed with holy water and coated in silver. The arrows burns the flesh
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/87/Ruger_Blackhawk_Convertible.jpg
This Six Shooter type revolver has become Samuel's signature gun. Rather than having runes inside the barrel, it's the bullets that were engraved with runic markings. These bullets acts as explosive rounds, decimating lesser vampire flesh on contact.
http://www.gerbergear.fi/var/gerber_int/storage/images/media/images/kukrimachete_31-002074-v3-3.jpg/515543-1-eng-US/kukrimachete_31-002074-v3-3.jpg_fulljpg.jpg
This is Samuel's main weapon. Having a kukri in its sheath and close by his side, Samuel are able to take up vampires or any similar creatures up close while risking his own life. The blade is engraved with runic markings and was made with a compound of 13% silver, 37% iron and 50% siderite.
Mountain Ash - To repel the undead.

The Impaling Crucifix - The weapon used to impale a vampire lord's heart.

Holy Water - Used to sprinkle around him to create a protective barrier against vampires as his Anima barriers is weak.

Blessed Stars - Used to throw against supernatural creatures when he doesn't have the time to reload his revolver.

Background: Samuel Helsing is the descendant of a famous vampire hunter, Professor Abraham Van Helsing who researches and hunts down supernatural creatures, mainly vampires. Samuel was raised as a Catholic in Britain with his father, Richmond Helsing continues the fight against the vampires while his mother takes care of him during childhood.

When he grew up, he began to take a few medical courses as his initial ambition is to become a doctor. Adding a few string of letters to his name, MD, PhD in history and D.Litt, similar to the ones his ancestor Van Helsing himself possess - showcasing his level of education and exoertise in certain fields.

As time passes by, his parents and every members of the Helsing family were killed by a vampire and the mansion was set on fire when he was on a vacation to Florence. As Samuel returns, he swore revenge on the vampires who killed his whole family. And thus, as most Helsings do, began their 3 years worth of intensive training and research to build a vampire hunter of the renowned Helsing family.

After finishing his training, a friend came to him, asking for help - his wife is dying because of an uncurable illness. Samuel helped them, and came to the conclusion that she is under a curse. The young Helsing tracked down the one who cursed the lady using various sources, interviews and clues. At the 5th of July, Samuel managed to track the one who cursed the lady - a powerful vampire lord who proclaims himself to be the son of Dracula (who is actually the product of black magic) and the killer to Samuel's family.

Enraged, Samuel attacked the 'Son of Dracula'. The two dueled until daylight comes. Throughout the night, the vampire lord seemed invincible and can only be killed with a very specific set of 'rules', the heart must be impaled with a crucifix and decapitated with a blessed weapon. And as the sun rises, the vampire lord crumbled into dust as Samuel's vengeance finally paid off.

Not many can withstand a powerful vampire's attacks. With this achievement attracts a few members of the Valkyrie came to him to bring the young Helsing into an organization that fights against the supernaturals, keeping the Balance. The last of the Helsing family agreed.

RP Sample:
“…and deliver us from evil. Amen,”
Samuel finishing his prayer, makes a sign of the cross in front of the altar in St. Patrick’s Catholic Church. Wearing in his usual black attire, with black gloves the young Helsing stood from his sit and leaves the church. As he stepped outside, a familiar man came to him, “Mr. Helsing! Mr. Helsing!” the Englishman called out his name.

Samuel towards the direction where the man approached him, he smiled and shook hands with the gentleman. “What is it Mr. Victor Harker?” he asked. The man, is the descendant of Mina Harker and Jonathan Harker, the companions of Samuel’s ancestor’s team against Dracula.

“Nothing dear man, just wanted to…” as Victor attempted to finish his words, their surroundings began to distort themselves, with wormholes appearing across London and the citizens started to act… inhumanly – twitching and walked as if they were the undead

Samuel looked around as the buildings begin to fold on top of each other as fear begin to overcome his senses. As he looked back at Victor, the man starts to grab him by the throat, attempting to strangle him to death. The young Helsing tried to fight back with his fists, punching numerous times on the possessed man’s face.

“Die!”
“Die you scoundrel,”
“Death to all who denies our existence!”
“Death to humanity!”

The vampire hunter’s soul began to leave its body as Samuel had no strength left to fend off Victor. Then, the possessed gentleman spoke these words – the words that could mean the end of him, “Your family shall perish from the face of the Earth, along with your pathetic race. This I shall promise,”

Ring….
Rrring….
Rrrring….
The alarm lets out a violent ring, waking the vampire hunter from his slumber. Samuel opened his eyes and pushed himself away from the table he was sleeping on. Piles of books were across the room – he was researching about vampires, unable to stop for a rest like his ancestors before him. A remark made by his close friends. The alarm clock still rings and Samuel pressed a button to turn it off. He puts his hands on his face, thinking of what he saw in his dream. “Perish… from the face of the Earth,” he murmured the words he clearly heard in his nightmare, fearing that the end of humanity is near.

[SikstaSlathalin]

Salazar isn't a Priest he was tortured by religious zealots. xD

And thank you for speaking up DNA and Ivy, but CF knows I'll set him right should he go too far.

And Sal is more loose cannon than rampant killer. Haha

[Rha'az]

Name: June Arles

Gender: Girl

Race/Species: Female

Age (Real and apparent, if applicable): Fourteen.

Appearance:
June is very tall for her age and gender, standing at five feet and ten inches and at an average weight of 146 pounds. Her body is very straight, with barely any curves and small breasts. She has smooth medium-brown skin and mousish facial features, with a petite nose and mouth and large green eyes. She has very curly and unruly fair hair that flows down to her shoulders. She is of a very willowy build and has a childlike appearance despite her height.

Personality: Unaware of how much of the world works, she is often confused and annoyed by references or jokes that she doesn’t understand. Prone to teenage mood swings, she often lashes out at people unprovoked, even unintentionally. When not sulking, June is mainly lethargic and unresponsive. She cares deeply for her comrades and Nathan, who she sees as a father, despite not always expressing it.

Nathan is one of the only people that June truly loves, her personality changing into more of a childlike glee when around him.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities:
Average Marksman: Growing up around Nathan gave her the chance to learn from him. While not fantastic, she can shoot a human-sized target with decent accuracy from 30 yards away. She does not get many chances to practice, but if she had the chance she could improve greatly.

Average Knife Skills: She has learned the methods and moves involved in using a knife to attack, but has not had very much practical experience using what she knows. She can throw a knife and hit a target 3 yards away, but doesn’t have the strength for anything farther than that.

Oracle: June is an Oracle, as such she can experience the World-Dream, and have visions. She also has terrible nightmares as a consequence.

Spatial Memory: A fairly good knowledge of math and memory allowed June to be able to tell distances and layouts of rooms with precision and accuracy. For example, if you saw a target, but weren’t sure if your weapon had enough range to shoot at it June could calculate whether or not you could.

Anima Spider Earring: Able to channel their Anima through an amber earring in the shape of a spider on her left ear. June can create a small wall of fire that she can use as a limited shield, a source of light, or an attack. This drains a lot of her Anima however, so she uses it sparingly.

Anima Web Earring: Able to channel their Anima through a hematite earring in the shape of a web on her right earring. Channeling her Anima through this allows June to create a calming aura around her and people near her. She uses this to calm herself down after a nightmare or to withstand a psychic attack, which she is very vulnerable too.

Standard Loadout:
M1911 Pistol (https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/26/M1911A1.png/1024px-M1911A1.png): Chambered for .45 ACP rounds, with an extended magazine of 12. Custom engraved with a hexagram rune, if Anima is channeled through it the gun can be silenced, but it uses a significant portion of June’s Anima so she hardly ever uses it.

Silver Athame (http://www.abaxion.com/sq286.jpg): A silver ritual knife with an ornate handle. Can be used against werewolves and vampires. The weapon is sheathed on her side.

Wooden Athame (http://www.abaxion.com/fous62.jpg): Carved out of willow wood, this ritual knife is best used against stragoi. The knife is sheathed at her side, opposite from the silver athame.

Amber Spider Earring (http://i.ebayimg.com/images/g/CjcAAOSwRLZUGgmD/s-l300.jpg): An enchanted earring given to her as a gift. When used to channel Anima it creates a wall of fire that can be used for protection, light, or as an attack.

Hematite Web Earring (http://www.thinkgeek.com/images/products/zoom/1726_spider-man_web_crystal_dangle_earrings.jpg): An enchanted earring given to her as a gift. When used to channel Anima it creates a calming aura that can be used to lessen the symptoms of a psychic attack on June and the people around her.

Background:
The child of Valkyrie member Miranda, she was born fourteen years ago to a scene of chaos. Her mother had been kidnapped by the Scions of Zosimos and the Valkyries barely fought them away before she used the last of her Anima to deliver June into the world. Suddenly the Valkyries had a newborn to deal with. Nathan made the promise to take care of her, and with the rest of the Valkyries she grew up.

Oh, a bit of helpful information, June is an oracle.

Because of this little fact, June hardly ever left The Rampart, like a dog kept in a kennel. She was mostly fine with this. Nathan was the best, like the father she never had. The other Valkyrie were friendly, even as they kept watch over her, and The Rampart was a good place to practice using her Anima, even though it was slightly cramped.

Around when she turned seven she started experiencing the World Dream, and soon followed the horrifying nightmares and visions. After that she was given her first enchanted earring and learned how to use her Anima to calm herself.

The older she got the more restless she became. She wanted to explore, to go on whatever fantastical adventures Nathan and the other Valkyrie went on. In an effort to appease her some of the Valkyrie taught her some basic shooting and knife skills, but she was still bored of The Rampart. June was also given her other earring, an amber spider that she could create fire with.

Growing bored, June could only wait until someone let her go out into the field with them.

RP Sample:
June jolted awake with a start, breathing heavily. Screwing her eyes shut she shook away the remnants of her nightmare as her breaths came in fluttering gasps. Holding back her hushed whimpers she pulled her knees up to her chest and felt her heartbeat start to slow. Setting her head on her knees she let her hair fall into her face, some of it sticking due to sweat.

Grabbing her web earring on the nightstand next to her she discretely channeled some Anima into it, creating a calming aura around herself, relieving some of her stress. The warm glow comforted her a bit, but she still felt tremors in her hands.

Peeling off her now damp shirt and shorts, she changed into new sleeping clothes and went back to her bed, trying to relax. Burying herself in her blankets, she looked at the picture of her mother and Nathan, the familiarity of the picture calming her somewhat. Covering herself with her blankets and pillow she fell into a dreamless sleep.

Just to poin this out. Female isn't a race.

[SikstaSlathalin]

Surprising amount of mundanes in here this time around.

[Cfavano]

Just to poin this out. Female isn't a race.

you kiddin me? Don't you know men are Martians and Women are Venutians?

[Griff]

Oh lol oops thanks I didn't notice that I put that

[Pheasant]

I'll get something down tonight. Not gonna be left out of this one, no sir.

[Pheasant]

“Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn!”

Name: Staff Sergeant James Marsters, Fuckin’ Army

Gender: Left one still works, guess I’m a man.

Race/Species[b]: Domestically grown USDA Choice Human, ready to get stuffed into a can and airdropped into a grinder.

[B]Age: Thirty years in the clink, first 18 don’t count.

Appearance: Two hundred pounds of muscle slapped into a multicam uniform, O Negative and name patch, but no flag or rank. He stands 5’10 with a dark military fade, baby blue eyes and the makings of a thick beard that doesn’t give his razor a day off. Tan combat boots are always stuffed onto his feet, tucked in and tied down with a permanent boot knife sheath tied into the left set of laces.
While not a brick of ugly, dark baggy eyes and an almost permanent scowl are sewed onto his face, with a big wad of chew behind his lip.


Personality: Marsters is the guy that every FNG hates and every Captain loves. He plays by the book, and will clip you across the brow with it if you aren’t on the same page.
His line unwavering, his attitude at times insufferable, Marsters doesn’t let shit slide but he doesn’t let it stew over either. He is direct, concise and to the point but not lacking in creative problem solving.
Off of the battlefield or anytime Marsters cant answer a problem by bubbling in answer ‘A: Headbutt the fucker’ he can be pleasant, depending on how you define the word. Scotch, cigars, and dick measuring contests are among his favorite pastimes, and to the surprise of his colleagues he can actually read and research.
But he only has two hands, and rarely is one not filled with a glass or something hand rolled.


Powers, Traits, and Abilities:
Firearm Training - Marsters has absolutely no gift with the arcane and no interest to pursue it, but when it comes to things that go ‘rat tat bang’ he's one of the best in the business after years of military training and experience.
Endurance - Forced marches, sleepless nights, few people have better physical and mental endurance than NCO’s. Marsters can run until the bones in his feet snap, and go sleepless until he hallucinates a stripper working a pole right next to a pack of hell beasts.


Standard Loadout: Marster’s favorite toy is an FN Scar-17, great for putting down crazed supercharged zealots or tickling the things that go bump. Despite several attempts to convince him otherwise, the weapon bears no runic rifling or engravings. If he can't field strip it, he doesn’t take it.
The other piece of his kit is equipment, generally a pair of M84 Flashbangs as fragmentation grenades have had mixed results. He also carries along an M48 Tactical Tomahawk engraved with the words “Are you sure?” on the handle.
Finally, where he used to carry an M9 Beretta he has a small rock. When asked he says, “They’ll do about the same amount of damage either way.”

Background: James was raised in a little town called Smallville, Texas. Born the son of the meanest sonuva' bitch you'll ever meet named Jason Marster, James grew up riding horses, herding longhorns, and getting his ass whooped by a leather crop from his angry Catholic father who was raised on the Old Testament.
It made James tough, strong, and even a little mean with spite for his father running in his blood.
All things that made him the perfect greased up pick for the Army Recruiters he went to see on his eighteenth birthday.
His great granpappy' had parachute dropped over Sicily, Normandy, and died on Arnhem bridge holding back the Nazi's.
He was the real deal, and his great grandfather's spirit lived on in James mind through his stories, the father he'd really wanted. He, perhaps more than anyone, is the reason Alexander joined up with the greatest goddamn fighting force on this earth (Or else), the United States Army.
His size, superior strength from the city boys who joined up around him, and pent up aggression made him the perfect package to be turned into a Soldier, and it wasn't long after he'd completed his initial training before he was off following the footsteps of his granpappy, jumping out of a plane like a madman for a velcro patch.
But Marster wasn't done there either, spurred on by a desire to excel.
Special Forces Selection, the most grueling and sadistic process yet. There were times when his legs felt like little more than meat on bones, where he thought he'd pass out on his feet. But whenever he closed his eyes, all he had to do was think of that leather crop, and he was back in the moment.
He wasn't going to fail, not after coming this far.

Three years later, there was a knock at his fathers door. And when old Jason Marster opened it up to see his son in a fresh new uniform, with a shiny new patch on his arm, all the old man got was a thick wad of spit in his face, before James left.

At 24, the next phase of his life began. Less about clandestine operations with his numerous deployments into the middle-east than utterly destroying every bit of infrastructure they could find that supported militant groups, Alexander leapt headfirst into the fire and came out a different man.
He'd put his father behind him, and the scars of his childhood were beginning to fade.
He had a fiancee back in the states, a retirement fund, and some of the best friends a guy could ask for.
Until, sometime into his third deployment during a night patrol, they were suddenly under attack by a pair of wolves, the size of the largest bighorn he'd ever seen. Huge, monstrous beasts that tossed aside full grown men like they were rag dolls.
His squad was ripped apart, quite literally by fang and claw, and not even a burst of automatic fire from an M249 from ten feet away seemed to affect them at all, before the squad gunners arms were literally ripped off of their torsos.
As the last man fell, and the beasts suddenly turned their attention to Alexander, thrashing him about to the point of unconsciousness, there was a sudden crack and yelp of pain.
Uniformed men were moving in, and where Marsters weapons hadn't so much as drawn blood from these creatures, they were suddenly ripped apart by a line.
By the time the creatures fled, Marsters had already passed out.
When he awoke, he was in what looked like a field hospital, flooded with grief and questions even with the morphine in his system.
It wasn't long after he regained consciousness, that two uniforms without rank or name patches appeared again, explaining the situation.
His squad had been attacked by a mated pair of Lycanthropes, werewolves. Any other day and James would have laughed in their face, but he'd seen them in action.
They were members of a military organization called the Deathwatch. When things went bump in the night, they bumped back.
An offer was made. Officially, he'd been labeled KIA for almost two months by the Army.
He had the opportunity to go back, or...
See how deep this rabbit hole went, and maybe get some vengeance for his fallen friends.
He elected the latter.

His military background made him a good fit for the Deathwatch, a group of ex-soldiers, ex-police, who had all gone through what James had and wanted a shot at getting back.
But they were under equipped, underfunded, undermanned. And James had bigger goals than offing the occasional werewolf.
He began striking off on his own, and after only a few monster sized body bags, got the attention of Task Force Valkyrie.
If he'd been in the Minors up to this point, he just hit the Pros.


RP Sample:

Deserts.
Marsters had seen enough fucking deserts in enough backwater shithole countries to last a fucking lifetime.

He’d made it to the archway of the next room, caked in blood. His or theirs, he couldn’t tell.
But then, he was the only one still moving after that fuckfest of automatic fire and weapons that didn’t belong in this century.

A lull had developed, the cultists had retreated further back into this neverending maze. Down the corridor he could hear explosions, the rattle of distant gunfire and the screams of dying men.
Well, it was a party, and all his friends were here.
He’d be lucky if he could count how many were left on one hand after this.

He glanced back, shoving a fresh magazine into his rifle.

Lot of bodies, lot of parts missing their bodies. A lot of them were cultists, but some of them belonged to his new team as well, the Valkyries.
Too fucking many.
He wiped the gore off of his bayonet before leaning into the next room, hugging the left wall.
His side of the battle was quiet, real quiet. Maybe they pulled back to reenforce--
‘Click’
His foot pressed down into a sand stained slab, giving way like melted butter.
“Oh fuck me…”
Rows of spears tore out of the walls, ones he would have noticed if they weren’t clogged by sand. He hauled ass down the long corridor, and he was sure to get a big sharp poke in it if he didn’t fucking hurry.
Ten feet away, and a huge slab of stone had almost sealed his only exit.

Marsters dove for it, tucking into an ugly pencil roll to slide past the threshold. Well, now he didnt have to worry about the walls loaded with spears.
Now he had a cultist in body armor, staring down the business end of an AK47.

He said his prayers, this was it. Nothing less than an act of--

A huge explosion from further down the maze sent a quake through the earth. Already being on his ass, there wasn’t much else it could knock him onto.
‘Pop pop’
One dead cultist, and one fucking miracle. The man would have bowed down on both knees and kissed the sand, if another dozen men hadn’t flooded into the room.
He hit the nearest pillar, almost tumbling over himself as a firing squad opened up

“Got any other quakes up their Boss?”, he mumbled.

Hell of a first day.

[Lleona]

I placed my cs at my first post... Should i change that and place it here?

[Dnafein]

Name: Staff Sergeant James Marsters, Fuckin’ Army

Gender: Left one still works, guess I’m a man.

Race/Species[b]: Domestically grown USDA Choice Human, ready to get stuffed into a can and airdropped into a grinder.

[B]Age: Thirty years in the clink, first 18 don’t count.

Appearance: Two hundred pounds of muscle slapped into a multicam uniform, O Negative and name patch, but no flag or rank. He stands 5’10 with a dark military fade, baby blue eyes and the makings of a thick beard that doesn’t give his razor a day off. Tan combat boots are always stuffed onto his feet, tucked in and tied down with a permanent boot knife sheath tied into the left set of laces.
While not a brick of ugly, dark baggy eyes and an almost permanent scowl are sewed onto his face, with a big wad of chew behind his lip.


Personality: Marsters is the guy that every FNG hates and every Captain loves. He plays by the book, and will clip you across the brow with it if you aren’t on the same page.
His line unwavering, his attitude at times insufferable, Marsters doesn’t let shit slide but he doesn’t let it stew over either. He is direct, concise and to the point but not lacking in creative problem solving.
Off of the battlefield or anytime Marsters cant answer a problem by bubbling in answer ‘A: Headbutt the fucker’ he can be pleasant, depending on how you define the word. Scotch, cigars, and dick measuring contests are among his favorite pastimes, and to the surprise of his colleagues he can actually read and research.
But he only has two hands, and rarely is one not filled with a glass or something hand rolled.


Powers, Traits, and Abilities:
Firearm Training - Marsters has absolutely no gift with the arcane and no interest to pursue it, but when it comes to things that go ‘rat tat bang’ he's one of the best in the business after years of military training and experience.
Endurance - Forced marches, sleepless nights, few people have better physical and mental endurance than NCO’s. Marsters can run until the bones in his feet snap, and go sleepless until he hallucinates a stripper working a pole right next to a pack of hell beasts.


Standard Loadout: Marster’s favorite toy is an FN Scar-17, great for putting down crazed supercharged zealots or tickling the things that go bump. Despite several attempts to convince him otherwise, the weapon bears no runic rifling or engravings. If he can't field strip it, he doesn’t take it.
The other piece of his kit is equipment, generally a pair of M84 Flashbangs as fragmentation grenades have had mixed results. He also carries along an M48 Tactical Tomahawk engraved with the words “Are you sure?” on the handle.
Finally, where he used to carry an M9 Beretta he has a o rock. When asked he says, “They’ll do about the same amount of damage either way.”

Background: James was raised in a little town called Smallville, Texas. Born the son of the meanest sonuva' bitch you'll ever meet named Jason Marster, James grew up riding horses, herding longhorns, and getting his ass whooped by a leather crop from his angry Catholic father who was raised on the Old Testament.
It made James tough, strong, and even a little mean with spite for his father running in his blood.
All things that made him the perfect greased up pick for the Army Recruiters he went to see on his eighteenth birthday.
His great granpappy' had parachute dropped over Sicily, Normandy, and died on Arnhem bridge holding back the Nazi's.
He was the real deal, and his great grandfather's spirit lived on in James mind through his stories, the father he'd really wanted. He, perhaps more than anyone, is the reason Alexander joined up with the greatest goddamn fighting force on this earth (Or else), the United States Army.
His size, superior strength from the city boys who joined up around him, and pent up aggression made him the perfect package to be turned into a Soldier, and it wasn't long after he'd completed his initial training before he was off following the footsteps of his granpappy, jumping out of a plane like a madman for a velcro patch.
But Marster wasn't done there either, spurred on by a desire to excel.
Special Forces Selection, the most grueling and sadistic process yet. There were times when his legs felt like little more than meat on bones, where he thought he'd pass out on his feet. But whenever he closed his eyes, all he had to do was think of that leather crop, and he was back in the moment.
He wasn't going to fail, not after coming this far.

Three years later, there was a knock at his fathers door. And when old Jason Marster opened it up to see his son in a fresh new uniform, with a shiny new patch on his arm, all the old man got was a thick wad of spit in his face, before James left.

At 24, the next phase of his life began. Less about clandestine operations with his numerous deployments into the middle-east than utterly destroying every bit of infrastructure they could find that supported militant groups, Alexander leapt headfirst into the fire and came out a different man.
He'd put his father behind him, and the scars of his childhood were beginning to fade.
He had a fiancee back in the states, a retirement fund, and some of the best friends a guy could ask for.
Until, sometime into his third deployment during a night patrol, they were suddenly under attack by a pair of wolves, the size of the largest bighorn he'd ever seen. Huge, monstrous beasts that tossed aside full grown men like they were rag dolls.
His squad was ripped apart, quite literally by fang and claw, and not even a burst of automatic fire from an M249 from ten feet away seemed to affect them at all, before the squad gunners arms were literally ripped off of their torsos.
As the last man fell, and the beasts suddenly turned their attention to Alexander, thrashing him about to the point of unconsciousness, there was a sudden crack and yelp of pain.
Uniformed men were moving in, and where Marsters weapons hadn't so much as drawn blood from these creatures, they were suddenly ripped apart by a line.
By the time the creatures fled, Marsters had already passed out.
When he awoke, he was in what looked like a field hospital, flooded with grief and questions even with the morphine in his system.
It wasn't long after he regained consciousness, that two uniforms without rank or name patches appeared again, explaining the situation.
His squad had been attacked by a mated pair of Lycanthropes, werewolves. Any other day and James would have laughed in their face, but he'd seen them in action.
They were members of a military organization called the Deathwatch. When things went bump in the night, they bumped back.
An offer was made. Officially, he'd been labeled KIA for almost two months by the Army.
He had the opportunity to go back, or...
See how deep this rabbit hole went, and maybe get some vengeance for his fallen friends.
He elected the latter.

His military background made him a good fit for the Deathwatch, a group of ex-soldiers, ex-police, who had all gone through what James had and wanted a shot at getting back.
But they were under equipped, underfunded, undermanned. And James had bigger goals than offing the occasional werewolf.
He began striking off on his own, and after only a few monster sized body bags, got the attention of Task Force Valkyrie.
If he'd been in the Minors up to this point, he just hit the Pros.


RP Sample:

Deserts.
Marsters had seen enough fucking deserts in enough backwater shithole countries to last a fucking lifetime.

He’d made it to the archway of the next room, caked in blood. His or theirs, he couldn’t tell.
But then, he was the only one still moving after that fuckfest of automatic fire and weapons that didn’t belong in this century.

A lull had developed, the cultists had retreated further back into this neverending maze. Down the corridor he could hear explosions, the rattle of distant gunfire and the screams of dying men.
Well, it was a party, and all his friends were here.
He’d be lucky if he could count how many were left on one hand after this.

He glanced back, shoving a fresh magazine into his rifle.

Lot of bodies, lot of parts missing their bodies. A lot of them were cultists, but some of them belonged to his new team as well, the Valkyries.
Too fucking many.
He wiped the gore off of his bayonet before leaning into the next room, hugging the left wall.
His side of the battle was quiet, real quiet. Maybe they pulled back to reenforce--
‘Click’
His foot pressed down into a sand stained slab, giving way like melted butter.
“Oh fuck me…”
Rows of spears tore out of the walls, ones he would have noticed if they weren’t clogged by sand. He hauled ass down the long corridor, and he was sure to get a big sharp poke in it if he didn’t fucking hurry.
Ten feet away, and a huge slab of stone had almost sealed his only exit.

Marsters dove for it, tucking into an ugly pencil roll to slide past the threshold. Well, now he didnt have to worry about the walls loaded with spears.
Now he had a cultist in body armor, staring down the business end of an AK47.

He said his prayers, this was it. Nothing less than an act of--

A huge explosion from further down the maze sent a quake through the earth. Already being on his ass, there wasn’t much else it could knock him onto.
‘Pop pop’
One dead cultist, and one fucking miracle. The man would have bowed down on both knees and kissed the sand, if another dozen men hadn’t flooded into the room.
He hit the nearest pillar, almost tumbling over himself as a firing squad opened up

“Got any other quakes up their Boss?”, he mumbled.

Hell of a first day.

Heh Spike (http://buffy.wikia.com/wiki/Spike) (look at the actor name) doesn't like werewolves.


I placed my cs at my first post... Should i change that and place it here?

As long as you let Storm know you should be ok.

[Lleona]

i messaged him ^^

[Salroka]

So am I still kicked from this as a result of my spat with that ban-evader last year or am I cool to drop Dorian in here again?

[Cfavano]

well, not my rp, but technically you were banned from that specific iteration, and this is a whole new thing with a whole new thing

[StormWolf]

Let me tally up present players really quick, Beta. If we still got room, you are welcome to join.

Alright, with Denraven working on a character and Beta showing interest, that would bring us to 10 players. I think that is max capacity. So Beta, you are free to submit your CS. I'm hoping for a slow day at the range today so I can go over these character sheets and give feedback/approval.

EDIT: And Aureyon. 11. Sorry pal, I can't math before my coffee.

11 is our max number, methinks

[Cfavano]

Huzzah, now we'll have a twilight-caste solar exalt on our team.

[.Karma.]

I can't math after coffee... No worries

[Pheasant]

That is a lot of players.

[Dnafein]

Let me tally up present players really quick, Beta. If we still got room, you are welcome to join.

Alright, with Denraven working on a character and Beta showing interest, that would bring us to 10 players. I think that is max capacity. So Beta, you are free to submit your CS. I'm hoping for a slow day at the range today so I can go over these character sheets and give feedback/approval.

EDIT: And Aureyon. 11. Sorry pal, I can't math before my coffee.

11 is our max number, methinks

Was Lifted in your count?

[StormWolf]

No. Dammit.
Has Lifted posted in the thread more than once? At this point I'm just filtering through for the posted sheets?

[StormWolf]

Sheets looking good so far. Accepted characters have been added to the Roster tap in the OP.

Pheasant, there is something you need to add to the top of your sheet before I can accept it. Reread the rules and make that quick change :3

[.Karma.]

Yay I'm accepted! Thank you!

[Pheasant]

Yeah I figured, I've gotta stop doing late night sheets. Anyway, its fixed now.

[Cfavano]

I fixed a bunch of the issues, will work on it more later.

[Aureyon]

Sorry for not replying sooner. I just now have had the chance to get to the laptop.

I'll start work on a sheet here soon, gonna take a bit of time and reread everything.

[ｒａｂｂｉｔ]

Let me tally up present players really quick, Beta. If we still got room, you are welcome to join.

Alright, with Denraven working on a character and Beta showing interest, that would bring us to 10 players. I think that is max capacity. So Beta, you are free to submit your CS. I'm hoping for a slow day at the range today so I can go over these character sheets and give feedback/approval.

EDIT: And Aureyon. 11. Sorry pal, I can't math before my coffee.

11 is our max number, methinks

Damn, I was thinking of tossing up Adelaide again! Who doesn't love a Dresden-esque Russian?

I'll continue lurking, maybe even toss it up just in case someone doesn't stick around.

[Salroka]

Do NOT freak out before you finish reading
I know the rules say not to have a callsign, but the character was approved in the past and I simply copy-pasted the old CS. I figure it shouldn't be much of an issue. That said, I am willing to change the callsign if need be.


Name: Dorian Rabenstein.
Nicknames - Doc, Golden Boy, Sparkles.
Callsign - Caster

Gender: Male

Race/Species: Solar (Human?)

Age: 686, Appears to be Late 20's

Appearance: Standing in at 5'9" and tipping the scales at 165lbs, Dorian isn't what most would call impressive or intimidating. His mid-length brown hair and hazel eyes add to the 'average guy' appearance, at least on the surface. As with any Valkyrie Agent, he is in good physical shape. With flat and firm abs, toned arms, defined legs, Dorian is a rather physically attractive person when it all boils down. Around the base and when not on a mission, he tends to dress casually. T-shirts, jeans, and other common clothing from our world. When sent off to work, he dons a dark blue and gold cloak/overcoat, white shirt, brown pants, and brown leather boots. In addition, he is almost always seen with a book in his hand when he is not on the job.

http://static.zerochan.net/Lezard.Valeth.full.297821.jpg

Personality: Dorian is not the most trusting man in the world, due to events in his past life and his relative lack of familiarity with the world in which he now lives. However, he is almost always unable to resist helping people in need. His skills as a healer are second only to his prowess as a sorcerer, but he tends to avoid spellcasting if it can be avoided as the after-effects are usually... messy. In addition to being a potent spellcaster and healer, Dorian is rather physically attractive. As such, he is not above using his allure and silver tongue to get what he needs.

Considering he generally prefers peace to war, he is even willing to go so far as offering his services as a healer, mage, or otherwise to individuals if doing so secures peaceful resolutions. That said, if a particular party proves to be deceitful and breaks any peace he helps to forge... Dorian will not hesitate to unleash the full fury of his power upon them. He loves to laugh, loves to have a good time, and loves when everyone is getting along. Disrupting any sort of peace tends to get him very upset, but often times Dorian is willing to warn people to back down before things get out of hand. If peace resumes, then he will always carry on like nothing happened whatsoever.

Theme Song: Breaking Benjamin - Into the Nothing (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8L7YKHylmo)



Limit Points: 2/10

Upon gaining ten limit points, a character's tolerance for a certain stress-causing situation has been broken and they must act according to their "Personality Flaw". Additional limit may be gained if a particular circumstance is met, but the circumstance depends on what the flaw itself is.

A Limit Break is a tremendously cathartic experience. Undergoing a Limit Break immediately gives the character five temporary Willpower points, even if this raises his temporary Willpower above ten points.

Limit Break Effect: Deliberate Cruelty

Break Duration: One full day
Limit Point Condition: The character is subjected to severe stress or backed against the wall.

Effect: The character wholly embraces cruelty. His conscience vanishes, and he uses terror and cruelty to accomplish his goals, with only contempt for any perceived or exhibited weakness. He casually tortures and mutilates prisoners to sow terror and inspire obedience.



Powers, Traits, and Abilities: In addition to using his internal energy to fuel his magic, the expenditure of large amounts of energy has the effect of strengthening Dorian's aura. This also means that Dorian may channel his anima as a protective act. If an attack proves to be too much for his normal defenses to handle, he may spend five motes of energy to strengthen his aura in an attempt to resist the attack. Thanks to Dorian's powerful life force, he may nullify something even as powerful as a hand grenade with this effect alone. This effect can turn an otherwise deadly blow or reduce a weak attack to harmlessness. This ability automatically comes into play automatically once Dorian expends 11-15 motes of Peripheral Energy.

When channeling peripheral motes rather than personal, a mark appears on Dorian's forehead. This mark is a golden circle, filled in with gold on the top, but having only an empty ring as its bottom half. At the “Iconic” level of 16+ peripheral motes spent, Dorian's aura envelops his body in a form resembling this (http://i49.vbox7.com/o/4bd/4bdf5a7cab0.jpg?feature=og) example, with brilliant golden inlays and a deep purple cloak. However, it does not further enhance the defensive capabilities of the aura, nor is it capable of augmenting his attacks. If used in conjunction with certain powers, the aura image enlarges to encompass the ability in question.

Dorian's aura and the energy of said aura is measured by two things. How many "motes" of usable energy remain, and his sheer willpower. The "motes" are further measured by "personal" and "peripheral" motes. Personal motes measure the amount of energy Dorian can safely spend without becoming fatigued in any way. Peripheral motes measure the overflow that can be spent until his reserves are exhausted, with his fatigue increasing the more peripheral motes are used. Lastly, Dorian has "Dangerous" motes. Dangerous motes are the last to be spent, and called such because they are the final visages of Dorian's Anima, and using this last bit of energy can have harmful effect to him, ending in death were he to fully exhaust them. Willpower is measured in a similar way. When all willpower is spent, Dorian is mentally exhausted and vulnerable to mental influence.

This energy is regained at a rate of eight points per hour, plus four more if Dorian is not performing strenuous activity. If resting, the recovery rate is doubled to a rate of sixteen motes per hour. Personal motes are restored first, followed by peripheral motes.

Personal Motes = 30/30
Peripheral Motes = 80/80
"Dangerous" Motes = 20/20
Willpower: 10/10

The following is a list of further abilities that Dorian possesses.





THERE IS NO WIND
Cost: 3m or 5m
Type: Supplemental
Duration: Instant

Years of training have ensured that Dorian’s heart knows the arrow’s path. He spends three motes and fires a single flawless shot, regardless of distance, visibility, weather and other prevailing conditions. This Charm nullifies penalties from the listed factors that might apply to a single archery attack. He can also spend two additional motes and this Charm will increase the Range of his weapon to his maximum visibility range.

ACCURACY WITHOUT DISTANCE
Cost: 1m, 1wp
Type: Supplemental
Duration: Instant

Dorian fires a single perfect shot. He pays this Charm’s cost and fires an arrow at a valid target. This Charm supplements the character's attack and guarantees that the arrow hits. This Charm can be used in archery contests and for trick shots―such as severing a rope from afar―but it is most often used in attacks. If the attack would have missed without this Charm, then it hits anyway. This Charm does not change the normal rules for valid targets― armor can still negate the damage, obstacles such as walls or a well-placed shield can still block line-of-sight to the target, and so on.

FORCEFUL ARROW
Cost: 3m
Type: Supplemental
Duration: Instant

The channeling of life force imbues Dorian's arrow with great force. This Charm supplements an Archery-based attack. If the attack hits, it knocks the enemy away from the archer by a distance of up to eight yards. Objects do not get a roll, but are instead knocked back automatically if the object’s weight in pounds is less than 1600lbs.

ESSENCE ARROW ATTACK
Cost: 2m
Type: Supplemental
Duration: Instant

The character charges an arrow with Essence. The effects are based on the character’s fighting style and aura. This Charm causes an arrow to hit with the force of en exploding grenade. In addition, the attack has the following effect.

Dazzling Flare: These arrows (or other ammunition) glow with holy fire and brilliant sunlight. This Charm makes the attack Holy, and it inflicts an intense, soul-rending damage against demons, unholy beings, and creatures of darkness. The arrow shines brightly enough to be seen for eighty miles, if fired straight upward or otherwise unobstructed.

PHANTOM ARROW TECHNIQUE
Cost:―(1m per attack)
Type: Permanent

The bane of the mortal archer is their dependence on ammunition, but Dorian can use this Charm to shape sparkling arrows of Essence. This Charm allows him to make ranged attacks without using ammunition. Each such attack costs one mote of Essence. The arrow can be a broadhead, fowling, frog crotch or target arrow. This Charm permanently allows the character to create these energy-arrows, and shaping motes into ammunition is not a Charm activation.

FISTS OF IRON TECHNIQUE
Cost: 3m, 1wp
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Combo-OK
Duration: One Hour

Knowing that he might face armed foes while unarmed, Dorian has learned to infuse his hands with the strength of his very life force and strikes like a battering ram. This Charm enhances an unarmed Martial Arts attack, improving damage and making it potentially lethal. In addition, he can parry lethal hand-to-hand attacks such as swords or axes, and even ranged attacks like arrows (if reaction is possible).

SLEDGEHAMMER FIST PUNCH
Cost: 3m
Type: Supplemental
Duration: Instant

This Charm is also called the “Pillar-Breaking Blow.” Dorian’s aura flares regardless of the number of motes he has spent in the scene, and he strikes like the judgment of Heaven. This Charm supplements an unarmed Martial Arts attack against an inanimate object or inorganic foes such as magical constructs, doubling the damage of the attack.

DRAGON COIL TECHNIQUE
Cost: 3m
Type: Reflexive
Duration: Until next action

An Auramancer is a formidable grappler when the need arises. This charm causes Dorian's grip to become mighty indeed, and he may, if he chooses, squeeze the life from the strongest of foes. This Charm makes Dorian into a powerful grappler and wrestler. It also adds damage to any grapple he engages in, or allows the him to RESIST damage from an enemy's grappling attack. This Charm cannot be placed in a Combo with extra-action Charms.

THUNDERCLAP RUSH ATTACK
Cost: 1m
Type: Simple (Speed Boost)
Duration: Instant

When the Dorian strikes, he can become swifter than lightning. The character pours Essence into quickening his actions. He then makes an unarmed Martial Arts attack. This Charm causes unarmed attacks to be much swifter and make it more difficult for the foe to counterattack.





DURABILITY OF OAK MEDITATION
Cost: 2m
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Combo-OK
Duration: Instant

A boy cannot cut down an oak tree with a kitchen knife. Nor can a mere mortal slay a Solar with petty blows of mortal steel. Dorian invokes this Charm after an attack hits but before damage is determined. This Charm allows the character to resist a moderate amount of damage from a mundane attack, or a slight amount of damage from a magical attack or enchanted weapon. Should the attacks be weak enough, they can be outright negated.

SPIRIT STRENGTHENS THE SKIN
Cost: 1+m
Type: Reflexive (after an attack is received)
Duration: Instant

The unconquerable flame of the Solar’s spirit armors her against attack. She invokes this Charm after an attack hits but before damage is determined. This Charm reduces the damage of the attack by a relative amount to each mote spent. This Charm can reduce the damage of the attack to nothing, should sufficient motes be spent.

IRON SKIN CONCENTRATION
Cost: 3m
Type: Reflexive (after an attack is received)
Duration: Instant

Mortal weapons are as the stings of wasps and hornets to one as powerful as a Solar. Dorian invokes this Charm after an attack hits him but before damage is determined. This Charm gives him a resistance against the attack, ignoring a small portion of damage from magical attacks or a larger portion of damage from a mundane attack.

ADAMANT SKIN TECHNIQUE
Cost: 4m
Type: Reflexive
Duration: Instant

Driven by purpose, Dorian becomes momentarily invincible. The character invokes this Charm after receiving an attack, but immediately before the damage of a physical attack or similar effect is determined. This Charm is a perfect defense against the raw damage of the attack, reducing it to zero after all other effects.

There is a flaw to this ability, however. Dorian cannot take movement actions such as walking, running, flight, teleportation or jumping for two full posts before using this defense. Being moved as the result of a foes attack or ability does not count as movement for this flaw.

BODY-MENDING MEDITATION
Cost: 10m
Type: Supplemental
Duration: Until the day ends

Even wounded nigh unto death, a Dorian can find the strength to rise again. This Charm supplements a dramatic action to marshal the character’s inner resources for recovery. This action requires one hour without a Charm or other spell. This charm speeds his healing rate by a factor of ten or, if the character prefers, adds directly to the success of the use of Wound-Mending Care Technique on the character.

Characters can activate Body-Mending Meditation when inactive.

SHADOW OVER WATER
Cost: 1m
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Combo-OK
Duration: Instant

This charm causes the character to move like shadows over water―with perfect grace and speed. The maneuver named Shadow Over Water restores defensive advantage to a beleaguered or overextended fighter. This Charm is used in response to an attack. It allows Dorian to ignore all penalties that apply to his ability to evade an attack that he sees coming. His chance to dodge is still incredibly slim against a nearly undodgeable attack that comes incredibly quickly or from an awkward angle, but he takes no penalties for exhaustion, terrain, etc.

SEVEN SHADOW EVASION
Cost: 3m
Type: Reflexive
Duration: Instant

As a sorcerer that was gifted enough to be placed among the Valkyries, Dorian is too quick for his enemies to land a blow. The Sorcerer invokes this Charm in response to an attack. The attack must not be unexpected. This Charm is a dodge that perfectly defends against the attack―even if the attack is normally undodgeable. Dorian simply was not where the attacker thought he was, and what was targeted was an afterimage caused by the rapid movement this charm creates.

This Charm has a major flaw, however. If Dorian does not advance on his enemy for at least two consecutive posts before using this charm, it does not function and he takes the brunt of the attack.

REFLEX SIDESTEP TECHNIQUE
Cost: 1m
Type: Reflexive
Duration: Instant

The heroes of the Solars were in tune with the magical essences of the world around them, and Dorian is no exception. He invokes this Charm in response to an unexpected attack. The attack is no longer unexpected (but if an appropriate spell or ability, it remains unblockable). This allows the character to use abilities and Charms such as Seven Shadow Evasion against the attack, rather than simply be caught off-guard.

FLOW LIKE BLOOD
Cost: 5m, 1wp
Type: Simple
Duration: One Hour

Life energy permeates Dorian’s being. This gives him greatly enhanced reflexes and allows him an incredible amount of dexterity, and he moves with an impossible fluid grace. For the duration of one hour, this Charm allows him to react to sustained attacks (such as a flurry of sword swings from multiple foes) as if they were single attacks (such as a single thrown dagger).





TOUCH OF BLISSFUL RELEASE
Cost: 5m
Type: Simple
Duration: 8 Hours

Those who are the target of this charm need know no pain. The recipient of this Charm feels a temporary euphoria qualitatively similar to an opium high. This Charm cancels penalties from Sickness, Poison and Crippling effects as well as penalties from wounds. Its effects linger for five minutes after the duration expires. Touch of Blissful Release is not physically addictive to the target.

WOUND-MENDING CARE TECHNIQUE
Cost: 10m
Type: Supplemental
Duration: Until the day ends

Dorian's skill as a physician, combined with his magical prowess; can speed a patient’s recovery from even the most terrible wounds. This Charm supplements a dramatic action to treat, monitor and tend to the patient. This action requires one hour. This Charm replaces the normal benefits of medical care, instead allowing the target to recover an amount of damage relative to the hardiness of the person being treated (such as a man recovering from a deep stab wound or a demon recovering from a blast of holy power). If the target spends the day resting, the target recovers from an amount of damage relative to the power of Dorian's aura ability; roughly the damage a hand grenade would inflict. No patient can benefit from this Charm more than once per day.

FLAWLESS DIAGNOSIS TECHNIQUE
Cost: 1m
Type: Reflexive
Duration: Instant

The eyes of the skilled doctor see the hidden truths of others’ pains. This Charm lets Dorian automatically determine which of the target’s observable traits and described symptoms are medically related. If he uses this Charm in the process of a formal diagnosis, this Charm protects him from any error in diagnosis. If he has enough information, Dorian accurately identifies each condition, its source and its additional effect. If he does not have enough information―as when a target who caught an unknown disease from eating infected human brains successfully conceals his cannibalism―he will recognize that some key piece of the puzzle is missing.

AILMENT-RECTIFYING METHOD
Cost: ―
Type: Permanent
Duration: Instant

Disease and corruption cannot stand against Dorian's healing light. This Charm can cure any Sickness effect. This Charm guarantees that any attempt Dorian makes to treat a sickness is considered supernatural. It halves the length of the patient’s convalescence. The user of this charm can treat an ordinarily incurable illness, such as magically altered ones, by spending five motes and banish it from the patient’s system. Treating sickness in this fashion is a dramatic action that takes one hour unless sped by a Charm or other spell.

BODY-PURIFYING ADMONITIONS
Cost: ―
Type: Permanent
Duration: Instant

Dorian may use this Charm to force even the most terrible Poison effects from the target’s body. This Charm guarantees that any attempt they make to treat a poison is considered supernatural. If Dorian can successfully diagnose someone as stricken by an ordinarily incurable poison; such as spiritual taint, demonic impregnation, or even lingering spell effects; she can spend five motes and banish it from the patient’s system. Treating poison in this fashion is a dramatic action that takes 20 minutes unless sped by a spell or Charm.

WHOLENESS-RESTORING MEDITATION
Cost: ―
Type: Permanent
Duration: Permanent

Essence can repair even severed limbs. With this Charm, Dorian can cure any Crippling effect. This Charm guarantees that any attempt they make to treat the effect is considered supernatural. The character can even treat an ordinarily incurable Crippling effect, such as limb amputation or magic-induced paralysis, by spending five motes and restore the patient. Treating Crippling injuries in this fashion is a dramatic action that takes one hour unless sped by another Charm or spell. It takes the patient several days of convalescence to repair otherwise permanent damage such as lost limbs or blindness.

INSTANT TREATMENT METHODOLOGY
Cost: 7m
Type: Simple
Duration: Instant

Rarely is Dorian forced to leave a task unfinished. This Charm is an action in which the character treats a patient. The Charm functions exactly as any healing-based dramatic action that takes up to one hour, save that the character performs it in a handful of seconds. As with Contagion-Curing Touch, the medical shortcuts involved depend on the patient in question. This Charm does not remove the need for appropriate medicine, surgical tools and suchlike, but Dorian can use this charm in conjunction with others to work around these limitations. This Charm speeds only the portion of treatment that actively involves the physician. It does not accelerate any rest, recovery and convalescence the patient normally performs on his own. It can act as the dramatic action required by Charms such as Wholeness-Restoring Meditation and Wound-Mending Care Technique.

JUDGE’S EAR TECHNIQUE
Cost: 3m
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Combo-OK
Duration: One Hour

This Charm allows the character to recognize as lies presented to them by reading the vibrations of their aura against the aura of their target. The character can also recognize the deliberate use of half-truths, though doing so does not tell her which part of the statement is true. If another being's special abilities or spells contest these effects, then the two square off in a contest of lies vs. investigative skill.

INTEGRITY-PROTECTING PRANA
Cost: 5m, 1wp
Type: Reflexive (At-Will)
Keywords: Combo-OK
Duration: One day

An Auramancer can define their own reality. This Charm protects the character from any Shaping effect that directly alters their mind, body, spirit, or traits. This includes instantaneous Shaping effects and any new alterations caused by long-term Shaping effects. This Charm also protects the character from any undodgeable, unblockable Shaping attacks. Example: An enemy sorcerer cannot create a serpent inside the character’s stomach or turn her armor to lava, because these effects inflict damage by altering the character or things the character controls.

This Charm does not protect against the miscellaneous dangers of an environment or Chaotic Realm. If a random effect in a chaotic realm creates a hundred-headed snake monster that then eats the character, this is not directly altering the character’s body through shaping. Nor is it an “attack” when an effect transforms the character’s armor into harmless gossamer spider webs―simply an undesirable effect.

MONKEY LEAP TECHNIQUE
Cost: 3m
Type: Reflexive
Duration: One Hour

This charm allows Dorian to leap with the grace of a flying crane and the speed of a striking hawk. For one hour, the character can jump with ease and not leave wide openings to attack, and doubles the length and height of all jumps.

OX-BODY TECHNIQUE
Cost: ―
Keywords: Stackable
Charm Type: Passive

As a Solar, Dorian's durability can be likened to the mountains: not easily worn down by such mortal things as men. This Charm gives the Dorian the durability to weather blows that would slay any normal man. By subjecting his body to the stresses of repeated life-force manipulation, Dorian has become a bastion of endurance. If unharmed and unassisted by his aura or charms, he could withstand a shot from a siege ballista and survive. The attack would severely injure him, of course. But he would remain alive.





Blazing Starfire Assault
Cost: 14m, 2wp
Component Charms: There Is No Wind, Accuracy Without Distance, Forceful Arrow, Essence Arrow Attack

Golem-Destroying Onslaught
Cost: 5m, 1wp
Component Charms: Thunderclap Rush Attack, Sledgehammer Fist Punch

Blind Rat Evades Silent Viper
Cost: 5m, 1wp
Component Charms: Seven Shadow Evasion, Reflex Sidestep Technique

Iron Maiden Grasp
Cost: 7m, 1wp
Component Charms: Fists of Iron Technique, Dragon Coil Technique

Agile Cricket Leap
Cost: 5m, 1wp
Component Charms: Reflex Sidestep Technique, Monkey Leap Technique

Heavenly Recovery Method
Cost: 25m, 1wp ( up to 43m, 1wp if all charms in parenthesis are used)
Component Charms: Touch of Blissful Release, Wound-Mending Care Technique, Instant Treatment Methodology, Flawless Diagnosis Technique, (Ailment-Rectifying Method), (Body-Purifying Admonitions), (Wholeness-Restoring Meditation)





SHAPE EMERALD CIRCLE SORCERY

(SINGLE POST)

The character shapes an Emerald Circle spell that he knows. Doing so always costs one temporary Willpower plus the Essence cost of the spell. The character takes a Cast Sorcery action as well as releasing the spell.

Some Emerald Circle spells are NOT single-post actions. War magic often takes effect on the military time scale, while long rituals are dramatic actions capable of being interrupted.

SHAPE SAPPHIRE CIRCLE SORCERY

(TWO POSTS)

The character shapes a Sapphire Circle spell that he knows. Doing so always costs two temporary Willpower plus the Essence cost of the spell. The character must take two full posts to shape the spell. He spends the motes and Willpower on the first, then casts the spell on his next post, releasing the spell and rejoining battle. If the character does not take these actions in sequence, consider the spell interrupted.

As with Emerald Circle Spells, some Sapphire Circle Spells are NOT numbered-post actions. In which case the character may shape the spell as a single dramatic action of the length stated. Spells of this type will be noted in the description of said spell.

SHAPE ADAMANT CIRCLE SORCERY

(THREE ACTIONS)

The character shapes an Adamant Circle spell that he knows. Doing so always costs three temporary Willpower plus the Essence cost of the spell. The character must take three full posts to shape the spell. He spends the motes and Willpower on the first of these three. The character can then coalesce the spell as his next post. Finally releasing the spell on the third. If the character does not take these actions in sequence, consider the spell interrupted.

As with Emerald Circle and Sapphire Spells, some Adamant Circle Spells (such as "Cleansing Solar Flames") are NOT numbered-post actions. In which case the character may shape the spell as a single dramatic action of the length stated. Spells of this type will be noted in the description of said spell.




COUNTERMAGIC, EMERALD: 10m or 20m

Target: Caster or one spell

The sorcerer uses Emerald Countermagic to protect himself and his companions from hostile sorcery. This spell has special timing rules. The character can shape Emerald Circle sorcery to cast this spell as a reflexive action rather than preparing it ahead of time.

If the character spends 10 motes of Essence, he secures his own person against hostile magic. He crosses his arms or makes a gesture of defiance, and a nimbus of multicolored energy surrounds him. For the duration of the Cast Sorcery action and for his next action thereafter, any lower-level spell that attempts to affect him in a fashion he considers undesirable shatters and its effects are wasted.

The sorcerer can also opt to spend 20 motes of Essence and shatter a lower-level spell operating within a radius of four-hundred feet. If the spell is currently being shaped, its caster is automatically interrupted. Spells currently in effect are shattered, as well. This does not banish demons or spirits, whose summoning has already been accomplished and is no longer considered a spell.

Emerald Countermagic is not a clean or quiet process. “Shattering” a spell means that it is literally torn apart. Its effects fail, and random trivial magical effects wash out over the area. The sorcerer is safe from undesirable consequences, but others in the area may suffer minor burns or damage. The precise effects are at the GM’s discretion, although they should be significantly less harmful than the spell that was disrupted.

BURNING EYES OF THE OFFENDER: 10m

Target: Caster

The sorcerer’s aura ignites in a colorless fire that refracts and magnifies the hues of of his iconic aura image. All who gaze upon the sorcerer weep uncontrollably, their eyes stung by his blazing halo. This spell imposes an extreme penalty on against all attacks against the caster that originate within 100 yards. It does not affect allies standing next to him. Opponents who are blind or who avert their eyes do not suffer this penalty. Moreover, combatants who close their eyes run the risk of being caught off guard by the caster's subsequent attacks.

The sorcerer may dispel Burning Eyes of the Offender as a reflexive action.

FLIGHT OF SEPARATION: 10m

Target: Caster

The sorcerer speaks the Word of Ten Thousand Birds, part of the song that all the birds of Creation sing when they gather in one place. Because humans cannot speak this word, the caster is suddenly transformed into a flock of birds in a burst of Essence. The birds fly together at a speed of 20 miles per hour and can travel up to eight miles. Once the birds reach this distance (or some nearer destination), the birds complete the Word of Ten Thousand Birds, and coalesce to become the sorcerer once more. This spell has special timing rules. The character can cast it as a reflexive action, similar to a reflexive charm. It follows all of the other normal rules for sorcery actions, except the character takes his Cast Sorcery action as her next normal action after he re-forms.

While transformed into a flock of birds, the sorcerer keeps all of statistics and power. His dodging ability increases significantly as a result of being many small birds as opposed to one larger target. He cannot, however, take any actions other than moving or dodging. He may not attack, use Charms, or communicate. Any damage is reflected by the deaths of several birds until the caster re-forms, whereupon the damage manifests as wounds and the slain birds dissolve into pools of the caster’s blood. Each sorcerer always becomes a particular species of bird. Dorian always becomes a flock of Townsend's Solitaires (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Townsend%27s_solitaire)

FLYING GUILLOTINE: 10m

Target: Creature

The sorcerer makes the Sign of the Hooded Headsman. His Essence congeals into a barbed chain two feet long that spins as it arcs toward the target at about 340 miles per hour. The sorcerer can attack anyone he can see within 500 yards. This attack may not be parried without an impressive feat of athleticism or a potent spell or countermagic attack. If this is a surprise attack, the chain’s great speed increases the chances it will not be spotted before the target can react. The Flying Guillotine avoids obstacles (negating cover and shield bonuses) and can even turn corners to chase a foe.

The silver weapon wraps about whatever body part it strikes and secures itself into a loop of chain with barbs along the inside. The chain spins with great speed as it tightens, inflicting horrific damage that is significant enough to even cut through steel armor to gouge into the tender flesh below it. The chain always aims for the neck of the target. If the Flying Guillotine reduces the victim to an incapacitated state, it decapitates them. Most creatures find this instantly fatal. The chain itself seals shut the severed neck on the head, making it not so messy a trophy.

If the damage does not kill the target, the chain has wrapped around a shoulder, chest, or limb thrown up as part of the defense. It cuts deeply before it vanishes in a flash of silver light. The chain likewise disappears if the target dodges, parries, or otherwise counters the attack. When used in mass combat, this spell negates the normal difficulty of attacking commanders and special characters, as it whips past all soldiers and fortifications on its way to its foe.

THE RAVENOUS FIRE: 15m

Target: Inanimate object

The sorcerer’s Essence flares around him, and he makes the sign of Essence Consumed over an object. A jet of blue-white flame leaps up to a yard from his fingertips to ignite the target of the spell. Wood sears to ash. Stone softens and burns like wax, while metals crumble to ash and slag.

The flames consume the material to which they were originally set but leave other substances alone. For example, setting fire thus to the stone in a statue crafted of marble, silver and emerald leaves a pile of melted, seared stone, with undestroyed silver and emeralds among the slag. Nor can the fire consume enchanted objects, magical materials, or anything alive. The flames feel icy cold but cannot harm living flesh.

The Ravenous Fire consumes up to 200 cubic feet of material, and gutters out once it devours this amount of material. Only countermagic can extinguish it before then.




BLOOD OF BOILING OIL: 30m

Target: Touched creature

The character gathers a roiling ball of Essence between his hands. This sphere glows brighter and brighter as the power within it grows. It starts a dull brick red, but the color grows in brightness and saturation until it is, first, the color of red-hot iron and, then, an unearthly glittering scarlet. Then, the sorcerer takes a Cast Sorcery action and the sphere vanishes noiselessly and without display. The sorcerer’s hands are left covered with glowing scarlet arcane characters. If the sorcerer then lays a hand on another living being, the power flows from his hands into the unfortunate victim, transmuting his blood to boiling oil. Most mortals die instantly when subjected to this attack, and even a mighty creature can be slain with but a single touch.

To resolve this attack, the sorcerer must make a successful barehanded attack on the target. This attack can be combined with a regular attack, a Charm or even a Combo-Charm, allowing a powerful warrior-mage to unleash an attack of unparalleled power. This spell activates with the first successful barehanded attack that the sorcerer makes, even if it inflicts no real damage. The target takes damage every second and suffers excruciating pain for twenty seconds. The damage is internal, thus not subject to the damage-reducing properties of armor or hardened skin. This is a Shaping effect and a Poison effect. This spell has no effect on nonliving creatures or living creatures that have no blood.

This spell can remain active in the sorcerer's hand for five minutes or until the sorcerer a target other than the one the spell was cast for. It is possible to inflict this damage accidentally on someone else, but—even if the sorcerer fumbles and strikes himself—the spell never targets the sorcerer.

COUNTERMAGIC, SAPPHIRE: 15m or 20m

Target: Caster or One Spell

This spell functions as Emerald Countermagic, save for the increased cost and the changes noted here.

This spell can shatter more powerful spells than Emerald Countermagic as well as any spells that Emerald Countermagic can stop. The shattering of a spell at this level has more profound effects than the destruction of a lower-level spell—the random burns and magical effects may cause minor damage to others, although always less than that of directed Emerald Circle magic. Used to counter lower-level spells, this spell extinguishes them instantly and entirely. This functions like shattering the spell but causes no collateral damage.

GOD-FORGED CHAMPION OF WAR: 25m

Target: Caster

This spell works only when cast under the open sky. The sorcerer speaks several of the Five Hundred Words of War and draws a latticework of Essence around himself. During the day, sparks of sunfire swirl down from the sky to join the lattice, while at night, the sorcerer’s aura catches glowing motes of moonlight or starlight. As the magic builds, the sorcerer rises into the air. Dozens of distant voices rise in an indistinct war chant.

Energy rises from objects in a 50-yard radius and flies toward the Essence-lattice of this spell, where the light of the magic forges it into plates of thick armor, forming a mighty construct that Dorian calls a warstrider around the sorcerer. This construct lasts for one hour, though the sorcerer may extend its duration by spending 10 motes per additional hour. The construct is also equipped with an appropriately sized shield, sword, and small shoulder-mounted magic-cannon. All of which are forged from the same light as the construct itself.


MAGMA KRAKEN: 35m

Target: Area

The sorcerer combines the Prayer to the Kraken with the Mudra of Burning Earth that volcano gods make when their mountains spew fire. Red strands of Essence then lance toward the targeted area, which begins to rumble. The life force of the sorcerer is shunted into the ground and gives a semblance of life to the rock and magma beneath.

One round after the sorcerer’s Cast Sorcery action ends, Forty tentacles of lava erupt from the ground. The sorcerer can place these writhing limbs anywhere in a circle 50 yards in diameter, at most 500 yards away. Anyone in the area when this happens is knocked prone unless they can sufficiently react to the shifting and quaking ground beneath them. The tentacles are magical constructs that join battle the second they appear and lash out at anyone the sorcerer names an enemy, either to strike or grapple. The tentacles are immensely strong, but only as fast as the caster themselves.

The damage inflicted by the tentacles is considered partial fire damage: Targets that are immune to heat and fire halve any damage they would have normally taken. The tentacles never dodge or parry; but are very resistant to damage from mundane sources. At the beginning of every round, surviving tentacles regenerate any damage they have taken up to that point. Thus the only way to destroy a tentacle is to sever it in a single blow. A sorcerer can direct one Magma Kraken tentacle round up to an amount equal to his Perception score. Directing multiple tentacles does not count as a flurry. This spell lasts for a number of minutes equal to the caster's Essence Rating.

WHEEL OF THE TURNING HEAVENS: 15m or 35m

Target: Area

This spell cannot be cast during the day. When cast, the sorcerer’s Essence shoots upward as a brilliant beam of white light and explodes like a fireworks display visible to every creature within 800 yards who can see the sky. Instead of fading, the sparks slowly swirl clockwise in kaleidoscopic displays that last four hours. In the center floats the sign of the God of Light.

The interlacing sparks trace out many astrological sigils the gods would rather keep to themselves… but no one will remember them. All sentient creatures are entranced by the display and forget what they were doing. They take no actions. When the spell ends, they do not remember what happened while they stared at the sky. People outside the area just see pretty lights (though the display might attract them into the spell’s area).

The sorcerer himself is immune. Once he casts the spell, he may take other actions normally. Averting one’s gaze increases the difficulty of all actions taken in locations where the sky is visible. Powerful beings may resist the illusion through an incredible exertion of will that is often exhausting to the point of causing physical effects such as being out of breath or sweating. The spell ends if Sapphire or Adamant Countermagic, other powerful anti-magic abilities target the sorcerer, or if the caster is slain, or if any creature enchanted by the spell is harmed while entranced.

This spell was actually developed for entertainment. If the sorcerer spends only 15 motes, the result is a beautiful, distracting but harmless display.




COUNTERMAGIC, ADAMANT: 20m or 25m

Target: Caster or one spell
This spell functions as Emerald Countermagic, save for the increased cost and the noted changes.

This spell can shatter moderate-strength and even the most powerful spells, as well as low-level spells. It extinguishes First and Second Circle spells without side effects, but shattering Third Circle spells is more dramatic. The explosion of fragmented magic that results from countering an Adamant Circle or other high-powered spell—while it will not harm the sorcerer using Adamant Countermagic—has effects more profound than most lower-level spells. Such an explosion or backlash can kill or transform mortals and lay waste to the countryside.

CLEANSING SOLAR FLAMES: 50+m

Target: Corrupted Land

This spell must be cast during the day at the geomantic center of a region tainted by evil or corruption. As the sorcerer casts Cleansing Solar Flames from that point, sunlight pierces the darkness that consumes the land, shining warmly upon the caster and collecting in growing clouds until a thunderhead of light rises above him, visible for miles. And then, the sorcerer lifts his head in a piercing cry as the sun-cloud impales him with a bolt of golden lightning that passes through him into the ground and explodes outward in a glittering wave.

The solar lightning holds the sorcerer for 10 minutes per 50 miles of tainted land he converts. When he is done, the sun-cloud dissipates, and normal sunlight shines over the tainted landscape and the corruption that plagued it is no more. If the sorcerer is moved or his attention wavers at any time during the cleansing, then this entire spell fails. Black storm winds of deathly Essence rip across the sky and scatter the sun-cloud in a terrifying (though harmless) backlash.

RUNE OF SINGULAR HATE: 10m

Target: Person

This curse is the blackest, foulest one that any spellcaster can utter. It sears and twists the soul of the target and of the sorcerer who pronounces it. The Rune of Singular Hate is but a single word, a word so sharp-edged and hateful that a tongue can give it voice but once in a lifetime—a spell that a sorcerer may cast only once. As a result, the casting time is near-instantaneous. This spell has special timing rules. The character can cast it as a reflexive Shape Solar Circle Sorcery action that take no time.

To speak the rune, the character must be within earshot of the target, and the character must be able to speak. The target need not hear the word, and magical silence is no protection—the target hears the curse in his heart. The Rune of Singular Hate can target only a single individual, but if that individual is less than a primordial entity or greater deity, the rune sears them.

The player of the spell’s target must make a choice, as the curse is so terrible and great. They must completely sacrifice one trait from one aspect of their being, or traits from no more than three aspects. These aspects are as follows: Strength, Dexterity, Stamina, Intelligence, Perception, Wisdom, and Willpower. The traits can be senses if Perception is chosen, durability/endurance/etc if Stamina is chosen, and so on. The chosen aspects are damaged immediately and forever. The sorcerer pronouncing the rune suffers a lesser curse—and permanently loses a small portion of his power.

Characters who sacrifice intelligence or wisdom may become reduced to mindless vegetables. Characters who sacrifice from Perception may end up deprived of all senses and cut off from the outside world. Characters sacrificing from Stamina could have their lives snuffed out if they are not careful. Characters giving up their Willpower might become will-less automatons, akin to as if something had consumed their hopes, dreams, desires, and drive. In all of these cases, the character has no hope of recovering the damage done without incredibly powerful magical assistance.

TOTAL ANNIHILATION: 65m

Target: Area

Every occult master knows the legend of Ligier the Green Sun, the defining soul of the Demon Prince Malfeas. Ligier once had another name, however, when Malfeas was a Primordial Entity instead of the demons’ home and prison. Circling his hands before his chest, Dorian closes his eyes and builds himself into a rage. As he whispers the lost, former name of Ligier, a vivid green spark erupts from his heart to collect his Essence into a roiling, fist-sized orb of emerald fire. The sorcerer flings the orb into the air and directs it with his will toward any target within 200 yards. The sphere constitutes a perfect attack unless opposed by magic-enhanced dodges or parries, in which case the caster battles the target in a contest of wills to determine if the orb is a direct hit or detonates nearby instead.

If parried, the orb is not destroyed, but is deflected 1,000 yards away in a random direction—from then on, it can’t be steered. Attempting to parry the orb with a weapon not heavily enchanted merely detonates it instantly. When the orb strikes, it explodes into a column of bright green light 50 yards wide and five miles high. It deals damage similar to that of a massive explosion (though the damage is non-elemental and thus not resisted by those immune to fire) to everything within that area. Then, for forty seconds, the column of emerald light sweeps outward at a rate of ten yards per second, inflicting another amount of damage (similar to that of a roaring bonfire, but again it is non-elemental) per second to everyone caught within in it. This damage cannot be reduced by armor.

Creatures near the explosion can try to outrun the all-destroying glare—this had best include the caster himself, since he is not immune to its power. Once the orb has exploded, the outpouring light cannot be parried and may only be dodged or soaked by means of perfect defenses. The devastation is complete: That which can burn, burns; that which can be broken, breaks. Behind it, the light leaves nothing but a scorched, cracked wasteland. In the thunder of the orb’s detonation and the crash and crackle of devastation, one might hear the awful, vengeful laughter of a defeated god, laughing that his conquerors now turn his power against the world.

Total Annihilation may be countered until the moment the sorcerer hurls the orb. After that, Adamant Countermagic or other incredibly potent anti-magic abilities can only parry it.

WRATH OF THE FIVE ELEMENTS: 45m

Target: One creature

As the sorcerer’s aura builds, he gestures and calls the names of the Elemental Dragons. Each dragon’s sigil appears, the set forming a pentagram around him. The sorcerer names the target of the spell while holding three arcane links in his upraised hand—a hair, a swatch of cloth, and soil (perhaps from the target's footprint). The links can vary (including the presence of friends or relatives), but at least one must come from or have been directly influenced by the victim’s body. At last, the sorcerer speaks the Word by which the Gods are said to have first breathed life into the world. The sigils flare as the Elemental Dragons each vent their wrath on the spell’s target, no matter where in Creation he or she is. Once the spell is cast, the victim suffers five deadly attacks, one every five seconds. The sorcerer sets their order or lets them happen at random.

A perfect dodge Charm or otherwise potent evasive ability also lets the target evade one attack per use of the ability. Treat each attack as severe environmental damage. No conceivable external defenses (armor, etc) apply, because the attack comes from within the victim’s own body. The victim applies nothing but her innate durability, augmented by magical properties if applicable

• The wrath of the Dragon of Air takes the form of cold. The victim’s skin blackens with frostbite as he feels the icy winds of the farthest North rush through his flesh.

• The wrath of the Dragon of Earth turns the victim’s bones to stone, while razor-sharp crystals grow from them to slice his flesh.

• The wrath of the Dragon of Fire burns the victim from the inside out.

• The wrath of the Dragon of Water pours surging sea water into the target’s blood and lungs.

• The wrath of the Dragon of Wood sets lush, flowering vines sprouting through the victim’s skin, consuming his flesh as they grow. If this attack fails to kill the target, the vines wither and drop away on the next action.

No single attack is likely to kill a victim, but five in a row present grave danger to anyone who lacks powerful protective abilities or spells. When an attack kills a victim, the elemental effect completely consumes his body to leave frozen shards, a statue of bloodstained crystal, smoldering ash, a pool of mingled blood and water or a tangle of vines. None of the attacks inflict the slightest harm on anyone nearby, even someone who hugs the victim. The wrath of the Elemental Dragons is most selective.

Finally, a person slain by Wrath of the Five Elements is not completely dead. She immediately appears before the sorcerer, transformed into an elemental of the element that killed her, already bound to serve the sorcerer for a year and a day. The elemental is of a sort that has the same relative power as the victim (so mundane mortals become very minor spirits indeed).





Standard Loadout: Small backpack (canteen, emergency first aid kit, scalpels, suture kit, various poultices and tinctures), survival knife, Runic Powerbow (http://img1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20120712054342/finalfantasy/images/0/01/FFXI_Archery_18.png) Foci (Archery), Combat Knuckles (http://i58.servimg.com/u/f58/18/54/60/47/brass110.jpg) Foci (Melee), Ruby Pendant (http://images.jewelry.com/jewelclub_rh46191cr-sr_large.jpg) Foci (Other), Quiver of 20 Aluminum-shafted broadhead arrows.

Background: Dorian is what the Valkyries have come to know as a Solar. After his arrival on Earth and subsequent interrogation, he has provided them with much information on his home realm. In exchange for his cooperation, he has been granted a place among the members of the Valkyries. Please see the attached file for information regarding the arrival of Dorian Rabenstein, Callsign: Caster.


Time: 01:14 UST+1, 07:14 UST+7
Date: 30 June, 1908
Location: Krasnoyarsk Krai, near the Podkamennaya Tunguska River

Sources indicated a massive tear in reality over Soviet airspace. The exact cause of this tear is uncertain, but later information gathered suggests a rift between our world and the Nevermore. At the time of the rift, a massive blast flattened some 80 million trees over an area of 2,150 square kilometres. The shock wave from a blast this size would have measured 5.0 on the Richter scale. An explosion of this magnitude would be capable of destroying a large metropolitan area. Thankfully due to the remoteness of the location, no fatalities were documented.

We were the first on scene, and discovered a very odd and puzzling sight. In the center region where the blast occurred, lay a man who was completely unharmed despite the destruction around him. He was comatose, but had stable vitals and was breathing on his own. To add to the puzzle, he clutched in his hand a brilliant golden bow (http://i01.i.aliimg.com/wsphoto/v0/1561277773_1/1pk-china-kylin-dragon-recurve-longbow-fiberglass-wood-hunting-font-b-bow-b-font-50lbs-147cm.jpg). Naturally, we took the man and the weapon in for study. Following our departure, a story was fabricated and evidence planted to keep the grim truth from the general public. To this day it is still known to us and to the public as the Tunguska Event (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tunguska_event).

Twenty years passed, yet the man from Tunguska remained comatose. What was odd is that he did not seem to age in that time. We safely studied the weapon he possessed, which was constructed of an incredibly dense wood and an unknown but absurdly durable metal. However, when we succeeded in melting down the metal was when the man woke up from his coma. It would be several years before we learned why this was the case. The man was understandably confused and somewhat frightened upon waking, but what happened next went a long way toward explaining how and why he survived.

Speaking in a language we still only have a rudimentary understanding of (Thanks to Dorian himself), the man tried to cast some sort of spell. Lines of energy began to wrap around his body and raise him into the air, but then detonated in a brilliant but dangerous burst of magical backlash. No one was injured, as he was in the chamber by himself. We did lose approximately $200,000 in (what was at the time) cutting edge medical equipment, but that was easily replaced.

The ballistic glass managed to contain the damage, and the man from Tunguska proceeded to cry out in what we could only determine as fear. Another spell was attempted, a blue flame conjured in the man's hand for a moment... then tore apart in a manner similar to the previous spell, but to a lesser degree. Again, the glass held. Clearly afraid at this point, the man appeared to start crying. One brave agent went against orders and opened the door leading to the chamber's decontamination chamber, saying he would try to see how the man from Tunguska was able to manipulate his anima in such a powerful way. He was... somewhat successful.

Reacting to the appearance of another person, the man from Tunguska seemed to relax a bit. He backed away slowly, but was not hostile. The agent asked if the man understood him, and got no response. The agent then tapped his chest and spoke his name. The man responded with a nod, managed to smile, and did the same. "Dorian." said the man from Tunguska. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Dorian had no understanding of any language on Earth, and we had no understanding of his. Therefore we were forced to do a complete re-education, as one would do with a young child. Picture books to start, then simple writing, and in time moving on to more advanced things. Dorian himself was highly intelligent, picking things up at an amazing rate and surprising his tutors. As thanks for the mentoring, Dorian taught one of our agents of his language in much the same way we taught him.

In regard to his anima manipulation, we found that such abilities were relatively common where Dorian came from. In addition, his "people" were of a realm that vaguely mirrored out own, but was also directly connected to a place similar to (if not the actual realm itself) the Nevermore. This was, in fact, how he ended up on Earth. His weapon was a conduit for his soul, in a sense; and it had been cast into something Dorian called "The Abyss". This had a backlash that tore his soul from its body and sent it across the realms. He explained that his body could die, but his soul was literally an immortal thing which would seek out a suitable form to empower should his body ever die. We reason this as being how the one survivor managed to do such, as well as why he was at the center of the blast.

As far as abilities are concerned, Dorian is a skilled archer and hand-to-hand fighter in addition to being a powerful spellcaster. In time, we managed to get him a set of three foci to channel his abilities through. This seemed to circumvent the differences in how magic was used between his world and ours, and Dorian truly began to show us his capabilities. In order of his capacity to use the following abilities, we have classed Dorian to a more supporting role. He is a potent caster as well as a gifted healer, whose martial abilities pale in comparison. He CAN hold his own in combat thanks to an array of defensive applications of his anima, but performs best when supported by combat specialists.

To supplement his natural talent and melee-range anima abilities, Dorian took to learning a form of martial arts. After a full year of speculations, discussions with combat trainers, and self examination, Dorian settled on Hapkido. A Korean art that blends strikes, pressure points, and joint locks. A good choice for someone prone to fighting defensively. We have since replaced his bow as well, giving Dorian a runic bow of similar construction to the one we destroyed. Currently we are working on recreating the weapon he brought with him, but have had no success.

An asset to his allies, Dorian provides medical support and occasional magical artillery. He has been on a few dozen missions including the Oracle retrieval in 2001. His performance has been more than satisfactory, and we have learned much of his world and customs thanks to his cooperation.

Anima Rating: A
Strength Rating: C+
Agility Rating: B+
Intellect Rating: A

Overall Rating: B+

End File.


The battle for the Oracle had been a long and difficult one. As per his usual role in less clandestine missions, Dorian relegated himself to defending and healing the wounded. Healing them was no simple matter in some cases, and many with injuries that were not life-threatening were passed over and not given care. Not one to normally turn away those in dire need, Dorian nearly became the antithesis of a kind doctor that night. By some force of will, he managed to keep his cool and save the lives of no less than fifteen soldiers that would have otherwise been lost. However, that was not the last thing he would do in the name of the Valkyries on this mission.

Almost completely exhausted from healing others and engaging occasional foes that got past the line, Caster needed to recuperate. What else was there to do but lay against the stone wall of the temple? Once dawn broke just under three hours later, he walked out into the beautiful golden rays of the sun and clutched his amulet. "Before I begin, I ask that none of you interfere with what is about to transpire." A smile on his clearly exhausted face, Dorian drew a circle on the ground and stepped into it. "Light, giver of life and source of all. I call upon you-" The land, tainted by the corruption the Valkyries fought, needed to be purified, and as a healer it was only proper that Dorian tend to the health of the land as well as the people who tread upon it. "-to cleanse the darkness from this land as you cleanse it from the sky each morning! East! West! South! North! I stand at the center of this corruption and will not falter! My body is a conduit for your cleansing flames! STRIKE!"

Clouds swirled overhead rapidly as Dorian spoke the incantation he had developed for the spell. Just as suddenly as the clouds had gathered and begun to swirl, they ceased moving completely. Dorian screamed and raised his gaze to the heavens, a brilliant golden bolt tearing down from above and striking him like lightning. Such display was likely to cause fear or concern in some of the agents less accustomed to Dorian's magical prowess. Still, everyone followed the mage's wishes and did not interfere. The same golden light that pierced through Dorian soon exploded outward across the ground in a perfect circle. It neither burned his allies nor damaged the land, but black wisps of smoke hissed upward from any place the cultists had corrupted with their presence, even sanctifying the body of the ex-Valkyrie and the temple itself.

The golden bolt held Dorian for nearly ten minutes, lifting him off his feet and causing him to shimmer like a beacon of holy power. Then his aura flickered weakly and the clouds above dissipated, the bolt of golden energy finally releasing its hold on the mage. "Caster here, sir. Mission complete." he whispered into his earpiece. Without warning, Dorian then collapsed. He had burned nearly all of his energy and put his very life at risk. First-Aid was administered immediately, but was only able to keep the spellcaster from getting worse. After the mission, Dorian was put into intensive care... a place he would remain for six months. Even after he was physically recovered, the Valkyries kept him off of the active duty roster for a full year while they made sure he was back in top form.

[Rha'az]

Phew. CS done. Page 6.

Btw, Storm you can tell me which part I needed to change/fix :)

[StormWolf]

Looks good, Rycan. For the Blackhawk, could you give an example or two as to what those runic bullets do? Other than that, Accepted.

All set Pheasant. Accepted.

Looks good, Beta. More technical than necessary, but whatever works. Accepted.

[Cfavano]

beta likes to be technical. its his way to balance things.

[StormWolf]

Like I said, whatever works.

[Bionicllama]

This looks awesome, will get a sheet up hopefully today.

[.Karma.]

Did you have a spot reserved? The reason I ask is because I think Stormwolf said it was closed to new players.

[Rha'az]

The runic bullets actually works the same way as bullets used in runic rifling.

[Bionicllama]

Ah damn, if it is I'll have to miss out on this. A shame since I think this would be super good.

[StormWolf]

Keep an eye on it, Bionic. If a player drops out, you'll be first in line.

Rycan: I realize that, but rune-rifling is organized along the twist of he barrel so that when the enchanted rune is inscribed, the bullet gains a particular effect, like seeking or explosive. The more drastic the effect, the more Anima is consumes. Without dumping anima into a rune, it is just a simple engraving. Enchanted bullets are just prepared ahead of time. The trade off being that your Anima is free to use on other things, but once you run out of your enchanted ammunition, you are out until you can restock.
Same goes for your arrows. I need to know at least a couple examples of what your enchantments are going to be for the sake of balance.

[Rha'az]

Thanks for clearing that up. I'll have my CS edited after school.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Damn. -.- I had a bunch of stuff to do this past weekend. *sigh* Ah well. If someone drops give me a shout. Otherwise let me know if this comes around again because it looks interesting!

[Cfavano]

http://i45.tinypic.com/ri66ac.jpg

[Salroka]

More like: "Twilight Caste - I will punch you and you will turn into a duck."

Ok, he can't do that... but still.

[.Karma.]

Dang cfav, you seem to be doing more talking about Dorian than your own character :P

[Cfavano]

because bragging is kinda uncouth? I dunno.

What can you say about a guy who drinks beer and mead by the quart, is counted among the best fighters in all of creation, is god's gift to women, and can crush a man's head with his bare hands?

[.Karma.]

I doubt Kyra will be impressed :P

[Cfavano]

Maybe. He's never left a girl unsatisfied, however, though many didn't really wish for his company.

[StormWolf]

Can't boast much when your character isn't finished yet :3

[.Karma.]

He's too busy on his knees for Dorian! XD

[Cfavano]

Actually, I'm Skyrimming. I just adopted my daughter, and I have lydia decked out in full dwarven (mostly)

[Cfavano]

Cruious, do I really have to do an RP sample? I mean, ive been in every iteration. if I do, I'll just have it be his last hours of his first life at the battle of Stamford.

[StormWolf]

Everyone else has.

[Salroka]

Also, Storm. Not sure if Cfavano or Ivy had made you aware or not so here it is. I currently have no computer, so my posts are done on a really old smartphone. They are still as detailed as ever, but now take a fair amount longer for me to hammer out.

If that is an issue, I understand and will withdraw. Didn't want to get the ball rolling without informing you, y'know?

[StormWolf]

You know your writing pace better than I ever will, Beta. I would hope for a post a week if that is manageable.

[Cfavano]

One thing I've always found funny about Dorian is that he's a really swell guy, until he gets stressed, and then he turns into Ramsay Bolton.

[Salroka]

Once a week is pretty doable. Just wanted to let you know about it in case you expected rapid posting. I hope to replace my computer soon, but saving money is tough when you have a limited income. Also, I hope whoever stole my computer had fun... what with it needing a password on bootup and a password to log on as the admin account (which was the only one I ever used).

[.Karma.]

One thing I've always found funny about Dorian is that he's a really swell guy, until he gets stressed, and then he turns into Ramsay Bolton.

I guess I'll know when I RP with him.

Down boy!

[Cfavano]

you don't want to see him limit break, they are...extreme

[Salroka]

Psh. YOU have never seen him do it, either.

Also, Dorian has informed me that if he wanted someone riding his dick that he would call your mother.

[Cfavano]

oh please, Dorian is a bottom all the way,

[Salroka]

And now we all know who dies first when Dorian finally does hit his limit. *yuppers*

[Cfavano]

He's supposed to die anyway, he HAS to eventually die, and in battle.

[StormWolf]

Not obsessed with GoT, said Cf. Mhm.

If you spent as much time working on your character revisions as you did chat-chatting, you'd be done by now :3

[Cfavano]

Actually I did the revisions, just need the bio and the rp sample.

[StormWolf]

Then hop to it, fella.

[Denraven]

I'll have my character up by end of week, I had planned on having until Friday off, but I actually was offered a shift, and was forced to accept.

[Rha'az]

I'll repost Samuel here for easy access.

Here's your last Helsing!
"Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn!"

Name: Samuel Helsing

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Age: 29

Personality: Samuel's poker face has made peoplle into believing him as a cold and perhaps merciless vampire hunter. Deep inside him, Samuel battles against his depression and emotional pain as he loses his whole family in a fire, his parents, siblings, cousins. Despite all this, his mind is unlike most of the humans, possessing a vast knowledge in alchemy, most supernatural creatures (especially vampires) and also in history (he's a history buff though).

However, due to his status as a descendant of a master vampire hunter, namely the famous Professor Abraham Van Helsing, Samuel tends to over analyze situations which leads to dire consequences, becoming his own Breaking Point.

Appearance:
https://user-assets.sharetribe.com/images/listing_images/images/558556/big/img_3619.jpg?1466082075
Samuel stands at 1.8m (sorry for using the metric system, I know only that), possessing a rather tough build. He had no visible facial hair or any scars despite being involved in several hunts against the vampires. Samuel can be usually seen wearing all black, from his coat, 'undershirt', pants, shoes and gloves.

Powers, Traits & Abilities:
History Buff - As stated earlier, Samuel is a history buff thanks to the amount of books he had stored in his family's mansion. He started to learn history since he was 10 and grew fond of it.

Alchemy - Knowledge in alchemy has been crucial in making a master vampire hunter. The ability to know what type of ingredients and to apply it in alchemy, Samuel knows most 'potions' that are effective against the prowlers of the night.

Supernatural Anatomy - Samuel, being a vampire hunter knows the weaknesses and the strengths of his family's sworn enemies. It is a mandatory for all vampire hunters to possess the knowledge of a vampire's traits.

Vampiric Presence - Samuel has been trained for years to sense vampires using his Anima. However, he can only sense vampires in a 10m radius.

Eyes of the Night - Samuel can use his Anima to see clearly in the dark but only for a short period of time in order to prevent exhaustion from prolonged use of the Anima.

Standard Loadout:
A composite bow, which Samuel favors more than the usual crossbow and each arrow is inscribed with runic letters, blessed with holy water and coated in silver. The arrows burns the flesh of the undead before melting it into an acid-like liquid.
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/87/Ruger_Blackhawk_Convertible.jpg
This Six Shooter type revolver has become Samuel's signature gun. Rather than having runes inside the barrel, it's the bullets that were engraved with runic markings. These bullets acts as explosive rounds, decimating the flesh of a lesser vampire upon contact.
http://www.gerbergear.fi/var/gerber_int/storage/images/media/images/kukrimachete_31-002074-v3-3.jpg/515543-1-eng-US/kukrimachete_31-002074-v3-3.jpg_fulljpg.jpg
This is Samuel's main weapon. Having a kukri in its sheath and close by his side, Samuel are able to take up vampires or any similar creatures up close while risking his own life. The blade is engraved with runic markings and was made with a compound of 13% silver, 37% iron and 50% siderite.
Mountain Ash - To repel the undead.

The Impaling Crucifix - The weapon used to impale a vampire lord's heart.

Holy Water - Used to sprinkle around him to create a protective barrier against vampires as his Anima barriers is weak.

Blessed Stars - Used to throw against supernatural creatures when he doesn't have the time to reload his revolver.

Background: Samuel Helsing is the descendant of a famous vampire hunter, Professor Abraham Van Helsing who researches and hunts down supernatural creatures, mainly vampires. Samuel was raised as a Catholic in Britain with his father, Richmond Helsing continues the fight against the vampires while his mother takes care of him during childhood.

When he grew up, he began to take a few medical courses as his initial ambition is to become a doctor. Adding a few string of letters to his name, MD, PhD in history and D.Litt, similar to the ones his ancestor Van Helsing himself possess - showcasing his level of education and exoertise in certain fields.

As time passes by, his parents and every members of the Helsing family were killed by a vampire and the mansion was set on fire when he was on a vacation to Florence. As Samuel returns, he swore revenge on the vampires who killed his whole family. And thus, as most Helsings do, began their 3 years worth of intensive training and research to build a vampire hunter of the renowned Helsing family.

After finishing his training, a friend came to him, asking for help - his wife is dying because of an uncurable illness. Samuel helped them, and came to the conclusion that she is under a curse. The young Helsing tracked down the one who cursed the lady using various sources, interviews and clues. At the 5th of July, Samuel managed to track the one who cursed the lady - a powerful vampire lord who proclaims himself to be the son of Dracula (who is actually the product of black magic) and the killer to Samuel's family.

Enraged, Samuel attacked the 'Son of Dracula'. The two dueled until daylight comes. Throughout the night, the vampire lord seemed invincible and can only be killed with a very specific set of 'rules', the heart must be impaled with a crucifix and decapitated with a blessed weapon. And as the sun rises, the vampire lord crumbled into dust as Samuel's vengeance finally paid off.

Not many can withstand a powerful vampire's attacks. With this achievement attracts a few members of the Valkyrie came to him to bring the young Helsing into an organization that fights against the supernaturals, keeping the Balance. The last of the Helsing family agreed.

RP Sample:
“…and deliver us from evil. Amen,”
Samuel finishing his prayer, makes a sign of the cross in front of the altar in St. Patrick’s Catholic Church. Wearing in his usual black attire, with black gloves the young Helsing stood from his sit and leaves the church. As he stepped outside, a familiar man came to him, “Mr. Helsing! Mr. Helsing!” the Englishman called out his name.

Samuel towards the direction where the man approached him, he smiled and shook hands with the gentleman. “What is it Mr. Victor Harker?” he asked. The man, is the descendant of Mina Harker and Jonathan Harker, the companions of Samuel’s ancestor’s team against Dracula.

“Nothing dear man, just wanted to…” as Victor attempted to finish his words, their surroundings began to distort themselves, with wormholes appearing across London and the citizens started to act… inhumanly – twitching and walked as if they were the undead

Samuel looked around as the buildings begin to fold on top of each other as fear begin to overcome his senses. As he looked back at Victor, the man starts to grab him by the throat, attempting to strangle him to death. The young Helsing tried to fight back with his fists, punching numerous times on the possessed man’s face.

“Die!”
“Die you scoundrel,”
“Death to all who denies our existence!”
“Death to humanity!”

The vampire hunter’s soul began to leave its body as Samuel had no strength left to fend off Victor. Then, the possessed gentleman spoke these words – the words that could mean the end of him, “Your family shall perish from the face of the Earth, along with your pathetic race. This I shall promise,”

Ring….
Rrring….
Rrrring….
The alarm lets out a violent ring, waking the vampire hunter from his slumber. Samuel opened his eyes and pushed himself away from the table he was sleeping on. Piles of books were across the room – he was researching about vampires, unable to stop for a rest like his ancestors before him. A remark made by his close friends. The alarm clock still rings and Samuel pressed a button to turn it off. He puts his hands on his face, thinking of what he saw in his dream. “Perish… from the face of the Earth,” he murmured the words he clearly heard in his nightmare, fearing that the end of humanity is near.




And my my... you guys talk a lot.

Winter is coming

[Cfavano]

Ayy Ayy Coolie Fatten

Name: Thrangeir the Giant

Gender: Male
[b]Race/Species:[b] Einherjar, Human, Scandanavian, from modern day Norway

Age (Real and apparent, if applicable): His biological age is 30, however, having died in the Battle of Stamford, in 1066, he is 980 years old.

Appearance:

Tharangeir is large, Giant, even. Topping Seven and a half feet, and well over two-hundred pounds of muscle and hate, in life, he inspired fear and awe, and in death, even more so. In Valhalla, he retained his lively, youthful appearance, but on returning to earth, his skin has partially turned a corpse-like grey, His sea-green eyes constantly blood-shot, his teeth broken and yellow, and his fingernails blue. He is also gifted down south, and he calls it his 'longboat'.

He has blood-red hair, kept long and wild with several braids. His long beard is also braided. His hair and body is typically greasy and smells like sour beer, sweat, and other bodily excretions as he does not bathe often, only several times a month.

Personality: Bawdy, brawly, and bold are three adjectives to describe him. He is a proud and violent warrior, quick to anger, and always ready and willing to fight, drink, or fuck. He is loyal to his own whims, to gold, and to glory. Death holds no fear or mystery to him (having died once already). While he has no sense of honor, he does despise those who would resort to outright trickery or deceit in order to win a fight. Might makes right in his mind and the strong deserve to rule the weak.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities: As an Einherjar, he has physical capabilities beyond that of a normal human. His centuries of combat in the fields outside of the Great hall of Valhalla has honed his combat skills to a razor edge, mastering every weapon known to the Norsemen. Like other Einherjar, in this manner, he is the ultimate Warrior.

Outside of combat, it is said he has the hardest-working liver in the world, especially since he spent his nights in Valhalla drinking and feasting. To his disdain, the mead and beer of the modern world is far weaker than the sweet nectar he drank in Valhalla (in his own words 'My piss could get men drunker') Because of this, he can, and does, drink beer and mead by the quart, out of a large drinking horn, and rarely ever gets more than slightly buzzed.

He can also read and write.

His strength is that he can crush a man's skull in his hands, or rip someone's head off, as well as live heavy (https://youtu.be/e6jp_MKI_6w?t=167) and cumbersome (https://youtu.be/eSeX81-PzSI?t=16) items by himself. One time, he wanted to sneak out of the castle to bed a few whores in the nearby town, however the iron portcullis had been lowered. With his bare hands he lifted the portcullis enough for him to walk through, breaking the locks with his strength.

His endurance is such that he can basically fight and run all day, like he did every single day in Valhalla for centuries, in full armor. The temperature of the environment around him plays little factor, and he can go for days on little water and food. He can shrug off the pain of most non-lethal blows (getting beat about the head for centuries will do that to you)

He is quite good with a bow, befitting his training. He can hit a rabbit in the eye at 100 yards


Standard Loadout:

His gear on earth is not his own, he having plundered it from the barrows of fallen warriors. he had been given leave to do so by Decree of the God Odin himself. All are old, yet shine like new, and are rune-inscribed to never rust or break.

He has a Langseax
(http://i42.photobucket.com/albums/e340/fbiguy2006/10312039_10152157508058271_2912268238809205200_n.j pg) From the tomb of Lorfir the relentless, a swift raider, d. 980

A leaf-bladed spear of black steel, from the tomb of Hrundir the shield-maid, d.1045.

A round-shield of iron and black oak, from the tomb of Thendour the flatulent, d. 1005

A bow of dragon-bone, with a quiver of troll-hide, from the tomb of Sigismund the swift, d. 978

A special suit of armor made of tanned giant hide, with plates made from giant-bone, a material stronger than any iron, yet much lighter. This full suit from helm to boots, was pilfered from the tomb of a nameless warrior, and lends to its bearer a frightening appearance.



Background: Tharangeir was the fifth-born son of Heimdall, a Thegn of King Magnus I, and then later Harald Hardrada. Large even at birth, Tharangeir's mother died after childbirth due to being basically split open (she was a rather small woman, and Tharangeir was roughly the size of a six-month old at birth). Tharangeir had a taste for violence, even at a young age, torturing small animals, and tales of servants and smallfolk disappearing from the lands around his family's keep spread, as well as other tales of cruelty and violence such as when he nearly burned his brother's face off for stealing his toy.

Taught in the various arts of war, Tharangeir participated in many raids, and brought back much wealth in gold and slaves. He also had a taste for women, and it was never known how many bastards he sired among the commoners and female slaves of his household, but there were many.

Tharangeir later met his death during the battle of Stamford, fighting gallantly and gloriously on the only bridge across the river, and while his name was lost to history (perhaps to cover up how much of a horrible person he was), he was remembered as 'The Viking of Stamford Bridge (http://www.badassoftheweek.com/stamfordbridge.html)'.

After death he was brought up to Valhalla, where he was greeted by his ancestors and kinsmen, and for centuries he fought, fucked, and feasted with them, ever growing more and more disgusted with the state of the world. To the point that, one night, he and Thor got alarmingly drunk, and he made a wager that the new crop of Einherjar (as the worship of the Norse Gods had not completely gone away, just diminished) was so poor, that if these cowards could get into Valhalla, he could do so a second time. Thor, being delightfully soused, agreed, and had a Valkyrie carry him back to earth, and dumped him in the Courtyard of the castle the Valkyries used.

When Tharangeir woke up...he was not happy. Three doctors died, as well as four guards, and it took several large darts filled with Ketamine to finally take him down. He eventually calmed down after seven months, and is now using his position to win himself enough personal glory to get back into Valhalla, not caring one iota about the ACTUAL conflicts of earth.



RP Sample:

This was the end, Tharangeir knew it. He saw his life flash before his eyes, and he knew death awaited him. He heard the raven's song as a wall of Saxons and their gleaming weapons, still wet with the blood of his compariots advanced towards him. There would be no escape, no surrender, and no quarter would be given. This day would be his last day, and no one would be there to bury him, he would never see his family ever again. He faced his doom...and he smiled.

Taking his axe in both hands and unleashing a mighty warcry, Tharangeir, son of Heimdall, laid about himself on both sides with mighty blows upon his enemies. Dozens fell to his mighty strikes, while none of their blades could do more than scratch him. Bodies and limbs piled up on the bridge, forcing the Saxons to climb over their own dead to get to him, only to die on unsteady feet as the axe came down upon them. For an hour this went, and the river ran red with blood.

But this story would not end in victory. There were too many, and as all know, Saxons have no honor. So it was by trickery that Tharangeir fell, a nameless coward, who was forever tormented in Hel for his cowardice, floated on a barrel underneath the bridge, and thrust upward with his spear, piercing Tharangeir's manhood. Tharangeir fell to his knees as his foes rushed over him and across the bridge. His world went silent, he no longer noticed the pain, the blood flowing from his pierced body. He felt a touch on his shoulder, a beautiful woman with golden eyes and red hair, wearing a coat of swan feathers. She looked upon him and smiled, fiercely and fondly, and spoke his name in a voice full of light. She cradled his head in her arms, as the last of his heartsblood spilled, staining her Swan-coat. When he awoke, he was in the Hall of Valhalla, and was welcomed as a hero.

[Salroka]

Winter is coming

So THAT'S what your mom's name is. She wouldn't tell me her name the other night while we were bumping uglies.

[Cfavano]

be nice beta, he's just a kid

[Salroka]

The Beta train has no brakes.

[Cfavano]

because you cant see your feet

[Griff]

Cf I can tell you that Rycan probably doesn't enjoy being called just a kid :)

[Cfavano]

we go way back

[Griff]

oh okay, that's fine then :) my bad

[.Karma.]

Don't mind Gambit, she's just a kid. XD

[Cfavano]

actually that is an apt description of her and we must continuously remind ourselves that she IS really just a young teenager.

[.Karma.]

No we really shouldn't, it was just a joke. We should remind ourselves only that she's an intelligent human being.

[Dnafein]

You gotta forgive cf karmz, he's just a kid

[Cfavano]

no I meant we should watch the dirty jokens and stuff around her. it might make her uncomfortable.

- - - Updated - - -

Also, I'm likely older than most of you here.

[.Karma.]

Not a chance.

[Griff]

-_-

I understand that you probably don't watch the steam games, but that would show that I have no problem with inappropriate jokes

Also, I'm a teenager. Inappropriate jokes are my specialty, I just refrain from saying them on rpa.

--

//insert comment about karma being the oldest here

[Cfavano]

I dunno, Storm is pretty long in the tooth as well

[.Karma.]

I think Stormwolf and I are really close in age if I remember correctly.

[Salroka]

And here I am, being 30.

[Rha'az]

*ignores everything*

[Salroka]

Probably not a terrible idea. Also. To cut down on inane OOC chatter, I propose we create a Valkyries Skype Group.

[Rha'az]

I don't have... Skype

[Salroka]

I don't have... Skype

It's free and it is able to be installed on a mobile. Should go grab it, yo.

[Denraven]

“Ia! Ia! Cthulu fhtagn!”

Name: Gatekeeper Dr. Heinrich von Richterstein

Gender: Eunuch

Age: 115 ; 48

Appearance:

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/d7/4f/9b/d74f9b5ed0f99d272b381edc43be182a.jpg
Heinrich is a leith man of meager and humble stature and frail nature, the type of man you’d least expect to hold a combat position within the Task Force, yet when threats of Occult or Eldritch call, he is often on the foremost front, combating those threats directly.

Personality: Bookish, quiet, and businesslike. Heinrich takes his job as as the head curator or “Gatekeeper” of the Valkyrie Vault with a sense of pride and utter, unfaltering seriousness.
Heinrich is not much of a conversationalist, preferring to speak bluntly and directly, and favours, short, quick conversations, having no love and patience for small talk, gossip, or inside jokes. However, on the topic of the Occult, Eldritch and Demonic, Heinrich shows unrestrained eccentricity, speaking with passion and pride on subjects varying from Germanic paganism and Celtic ritualism, to North American tribalism and Creole voodoo.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities:

Psychomancy: Heinrich calls upon his knowledge of all things Arcane, Occult, and Eldritch to call forth terrible and mind melting magic. Able to play on and draw from his opponents fears, and able to introduce newer, darker phobias Heinrich is able to drive an human opponent utterly, irreversibly mad, and is practiced enough to kill with fear.

Occultic Expertise: Heinrich is the world’s current leading living expert on all things Occult, Eldritch, and Demonic, if something falls within those categories, whether it be Eldritch Tome or Demonic relic, Heinrich either knows about it, has studied or, has requisitioned into the Valkyrie Vaults. There’s few things in existence that trace their origins to Eldritch, Occult, or Demonic that Heinrich does not possess some small form of knowledge on, and he is constantly filling in those small gaps.

Standard Loadout:

http://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1069/7964/products/1_67e550db-93ea-4f84-bb39-ea21859d5756_1024x1024.jpg?v=1464646142

Grimoire des Gehirns: An Arcane and Occult tome containing spells, experimental notes, and research on the human mind. Topics include the effects of both arcane and ‘occult’ magic on the human mind and how they affect things from human emotion and fear response, including how to manipulate the fight or flight response, to human perception and how to make even simple illusions have a physical and physiological effect. The Grimoire can be considered the ‘beginners’ guide to Psychomancy, though Heinrich has added to it’s pages, adding in his own notes, and adding in darker, more powerful spells borrowed from more ‘advanced’ texts.


http://i926.photobucket.com/albums/ad102/m1carbiner/Larrys%201911/Larrys1911013.jpg
Colt Model 1911, semi-automatic, self-loading pistol, serial # 616. Chambered for .45 ACP. Runic Rifling.

Runic Rifling: Heinrich carries two barrels with him, the he interchanges in the field. The first, transforms each bullet fired into 'fear' rounds. Effective only if a headshot is achieved, these rounds induce a payalyzing fear in humans, and leaves the victim incredibly susceptible to the practices of Psychomancy.

The second barrel, combined with special airburst rounds, creates spherical wards, or shields, capable of slowing or deflecting light blows, dispell moderate level spells, and slowing low-velocity projectiles.

Background:
Born September 21, 1901 in Hamburg, Germany. Heinrich grew up in an aristocratic family of Stonemasons and Politicians. Indoctrinated into a life of cultic ritualism and pseudo-monastic occult symbolism from an early age, it was almost impossible for Heinrich not to become obsessed. From the time he could first decipher the texts, Heinrich studied the Occult, he had no interest in his family's pseudo-occultism. Instead choosing to first study Germano-Celtic ritualistic sacrifice, and then moving on the Egyptian deism and burial rites.

His studies consumed him, he became an academic, studying abroad wherever his research took him, chasing abandoned crypts, and chasing elusive tomes and texts. He spent a number of years in the late 20’s and early 30’s studying at Oxford University, whose vast libraries and antiquated halls held many secrets for Heinrich to unfold.

When the second World War broke out, Heinrich was forced to return to Germany, where due to his well known reputation for being an expert on the Occult, was forced into service with the German scientific community, lending his knowledge to the creation of advanced weapons. During this time, Heinrich was introduced to the rabbit hole of Occult knowledge known as the Secret World, through the forced collaboration with the Ahnenerbe. Though Heinrich had always had his suspicions and theories through his studies, he had only scratched the surface compared to the knowledge gain through what the Ahnenerbe shared with the German Science Corps.

It was during this time, he learned how to read the Grimoire des Gehirns, which he had acquired some years earlier from the depths of Oxford libraries, but whose Arcane script he had been unable to fully decipher. He was quick to read through it thoroughly, embracing knowledge he had never thought to be able to acquire. He dabbled and experimented with he spells and experiments written with in. The ghettos filled with an endless supply of ‘test subjects’.

When the war ended, Heinrich went into hiding, sure of pursuit from both Allied Forces, and those known as Task Force Valkyrie. For 6 years he hid, until in 1951 he was found by Task Force Valkyrie. He had assumed the worst, that because of his crimes and his collaboration with the Ahnenerbe that he was to be executed. And that would have been the case 6 years prior, but now they sought him for a different reason. For unbeknownst to Heinrich, his eldest sister, one of the few members of his family to survive the war, had established connections with the Illuminated Ones. She had put his name forward as a potential recruit for the Task Force, sighting his expertise for the Occult.

RP Sample:

In the Vault of the Valkyries, in the depths of the lowest chamber, sat Dr. Heinrich von Richterstein. Hunched over a table of carved black Onyx, on its surface were engraved many Arcanic, Alchemic, Occultic, and Angelic circles, runes, and scripts. Powerful protection was cast over this table. On top of the table were a number of books, scrolls, tomes, grimoires, texts, relics, artifacts, and baubles. All laid out haphazardly, at the top of the table were a number of lengths of chain, of various thickness and material, their links all comprising of interwoven runes.

This was one of the Valkyries most powerful tools in preventing leaks of powerful artifacts and forbidden knowledge. All but the most powerful relics were render inert when placed upon the table, so that they could be assessed for their level of power and threat to the world, and stored within the appropriate area of the Vault.

Dr. Richterstein sat, reading one of these tomes, deciphering its texts, and muttering to himself their inscriptions. A sudden chill fell over the room and the darkness became thick, the words sprang from the page and hung in the air, glowing crimson. With sudden haste Dr. Richterstein slammed the tome shut, and hands moving like a blur, snatched up one of the lengths of chain and wrapped it tightly around the tome, sealing it shut with a small padlock.

The room grew still again the darkness took on a softness. Dr. Richterstein only offered a clicking of tongue and a shake of head.
“My my” he spoke in that thick German accent that was his custom. “Aren’t you a dangerous one. I think I will be confining you to level 6, can’t have you being read by anyone.”

[Griff]

edited

[.Karma.]

Den, that color font is *really* hard to read >.>

[Rha'az]

I think it depends on your forum skin

[Salroka]

I'm with Ivy, though. That color is very hard on the eyes.

Also, Storm needs to update the roster. *yuppers*

[Denraven]

Sorry, I use the Aftermath forum skin.

[Griff]

edited

[Pheasant]

Mmmm, I cant read that at all. Colorblindness.

[Lleona]

just came her to read the post's, things have been pretty eventful here...

[StormWolf]

I will be going over new/comepleted character sheets when I get off work, then update the roster.

[Denraven]

Gambit, I know what a eunuch is, I think anyone with even a slight bit of basic knowledge knows what they are.

Now, would you kindly shush, and quit trying to push your binary gender roles onto me, you bigoted cis male.

[Griff]

Sorry, I don't mean it in a hurtful way XD

I've just never heard it being referred to as a gender. Didn't mean to offend or whatever, I'll edit out the comments

But like seriously can you explain to me how it's a gender in a respectful way so I can understand

[Dnafein]

It's not a gender, its a medical condition.

[Denraven]

Why are you all just assuming his gender? Geez if he wants to be a transgender, eunuch, Eldritch-kin, why can't you guys just accept that and stop pushing your binary, cis genders on him, like he needs to conform to your societal norms? Bigots.

[Griff]

Ummmm. XD I'm confused

A eunuch: a man who has been castrated, especially (in the past) one employed to guard the women's living areas at an oriental court.

[Snotgirl]

I'm actually not sure if you're being satirical/sarcastic or if you're truly offended.

If the former, LOL

If the latter, LOL

[Griff]

I can't really tell either DX

[Cfavano]

It's because, biologically, a Eunuch is not male, as he does not have a penis, testes, or neither of them. as our primary sexual characteristics decide our biological gender (penis/vagina, etc) lacking either of those things means that that person is, therefore, not that gender.

To Quote one of the Wise masters (or is it Good? I forget honestly) of Astapor, in reference to Unsullied (eunuch slave-soldiers) 'Unsullied are not men'.

[Griff]

Eunuchs identified as male though, they were only castrated so they could advance up in rank to guard a harem or be a royal advisor

[Cfavano]

maybe Herr Doktor does not identify as male. Maybe he Identifies as a Ken Doll

[Dnafein]

Den: Nobody is pushing anything (cis or otherwise) on anyone. Gambit was simply pointing out that you have a medical condition as a gender. If your character identifies as a particular gender trans or not, that should be what is listed. As Eunuch is not a gender it should not float in the gender position, but should probably be mentioned in appearance or backstory. If your being serious you should take into mind that someone who has no sexual tendencies most likely identifies as some sort of Autosexual. If your joking maybe you should clarify that so as people can laugh with you instead of not.

CF: Yes we get it your all of a sudden really into GoT. That's nice. But before you begin quoting any of the masters you should also remember that they said no slave was a man. Be it unsullied or pleasure slave. What they were after being snipped the unsullied were still physically male. Given that the few who have displayed some sort of sexual behavior have shown male tendencies most likely means that most of them identify as male. Varys who also in a eunuch, I don't recall every displaying any sexual tendencies. (Although it's been implied he has interest in little boys, whether this is cover to receive reports from his spies or actual sexual deviance is unclear.) Even with this lack of tendencies Varys still claims to be a man. So your attempt at using the words of a group of slavers to define the sexuality of a eunuch is a bit preposterous. Perhaps instead of quoting slavers talking about slaves you should instead figure out how your own character got to run around tomb raiding?

[Denraven]

Okay. :P Guess my brand of satire might of been a bit much.

[.Karma.]

Okay, Poison Ivy the mod here (most of the time I try not to mod in RPs I am in). This gender/eunuch discussion needs to be finished. If you would like to discuss it more in a polite and civil way to each other, then you may go to PMs but keep in mind the rules here on RPA if you do so.

Furthermore, if Stormwolf has a question or a problem with a CS then lets allow him to address it and not all take it upon ourselves to do it.

Short version: Quit insulting and let Stormwolf do his job.

Poison Ivy the mod out.

[Cfavano]

he ran around raiding tombs on Valkyrie missions. The weapons and such were part of his salary.

[Snotgirl]

Name: Cecilia Anderson

Gender: Female

[b]Race/Species:[b] Cambion (Half human and half Incubus. Leans towards her human side.)

[Age (Real and apparent, if applicable): 25, real and apparent.

Appearance:
Cecilia has a sculpted figure that is hourglass thin, with thin and lithe muscles that slope gently under her burnished skin. Auburn hair tumbles over her shoulders freely, strangely straight and glossy despite the lack of actual care Cecilia puts into her appearance. Her eyes are a deep, enrapturing sapphire that threatens to pull any onlookers in. Under them is a dainty nose and alluring lips that always seemed stretched into a half-smile, warm and inviting.


Personality: Deeply polite, regardless of whatever situation she's in, Cecilia is known for being calm and well-mannered. She is always willing to talk, but never eager. Rarely is she the one to initiate conversation with someone else unless it's needed. Without question, she is seemingly humble and deferential.

In the face of eldritch horrors, her half-smile never wavers, nor does she seem ever truly haunted by her encounters with the abyss. Carrying out her orders without question, she exudes reliability and is as sturdy as a rock. Yet, any attempt for anything beyond a surface relationship is rebuffed by her constant and unchanging smile.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities:
Relentless Pursuit: An inherited ability from the Incubi side of her family, Cecilia is capable of using an absurd amount of Anima, despite having no Foci, to boost her speed to monstrous levels. Unlike the more refined and calculated Valkyrie way of simply increasing her speed for X amount of time with a constant drain of Anima, Cecilia's is speed bursts at a time.

Entrancing: Incubi and Succubi have an inherent ability to draw those of the opposite sex to them. Instead of using mind control, they force their victims to act upon more base desires. Cecilia's is a much more weaker version than that. She draws attention, and no amount of training can quell this ability, whether she wants it or not. To most who have a sliver of mental fortitude, they are fully capable of resisting. However, it is the unprepared who find themselves inexplicably drawn to Cecilia.

Firearms Training: Cecilia is proficient in the use most guns, but she isn't outstanding at most of them. They serve their purpose.

Shredder: If any of her skills were to be considered memorable, it would be her ability to rip anyone in close combat to shreds. Utilizing runic etched metallic nails, which she can elongate at will, Cecilia is fully capable of standing on her own in close quarters.


Standard Loadout:

M1A SOCOM rifle with a magazine that holds 20 .308 Winchester rounds. For the most part, Cecilia uses standard ammunition but also carries around specialized rounds for different encounters.

The Thompson Contender is the heavy hitter weapon that's chambered in .450 Marlin bullets. Capable of putting anything short of an elephant on its ass, Cecilia carries very little ammunition for it. It's more of an execution weapon or one pulled out in the event of a very...durable enemy.

Fingernail claws that extend at will. All along its design, there are runic etchings carved lightly into the metal.

Background:
Unlike the majority of women who fall victim to an Incubi, Cecilia's mother survived her encounter. An extremely devout Christian, she refused to get rid of her child when it was found that had become pregnant with a child, despite her horror of possibly giving birth to a monster. Over the months, her mother's health deteriorated, until she at last perished during Cecilia's birth.

While she was awaiting social services, Cecilia was mysteriously snatched away from her crib at night. The Incubus, her father, had come to claim her. This Incubus worked alone, and had been blending in with human populations, hiding in their vast cities. Working against his very nature, he tried to raise Cecilia as a normal human child, despite inheriting abilities she had no control over.

A decade had passed. Cecilia had what could be considered an uneventful childhood. Until the day her father revealed his true nature to her. How he required the life force of women to stay alive, how he lured in the unsuspecting and devoured them, and how he felt about her mother. At such a young age, Cecilia simply accepted him. From his story, it was clear that he could've just left her at the hospital and forgot about her. But he didn't.

Thus, he began to teach Cecilia about the Incubus, or Succubus, blood that resides within her. These lessons were extremely basic and fundamental. It would take some time before she could take advantage or truly control any powers she might have.

Unfortunately, this was not to be. Cabal hunter-killer units had zoned in on his location, having spent months searching in the city without his being aware of their presence. He died in a hail of gunfire. The Cabal troops took her back to their base, sure that she was just a victim. When her blood came to light, she was offered a choice: join the fight against the encroaching Darkness or die.

Obviously, she chose the latter. Years of Cabal training followed.

RP Sample--Literally Nothing Happens!

Worn boots stomped through the grey and sterile halls of the Cabal's compound. A single woman marched, her bright eyes staring straight ahead. Every now and then, she passed by a Cabal soldier, their eyes flitting over to her face with interest. She ignored their gazes, but she could feel the stare of each and every one of them drilling into the back of her head.

Navigating the winding corridors with ease, Cecilia finally found herself at her destination; the mess hall. It was fairly late, and there was hardly anyone there. Only a single man, a grizzled veteran with greying hair, sitting at a corner table, slowly eating his meal. He looked up at Cecilia, his eyes unfocused, before he turned his attention back towards his meal.

With a sigh of relief, Cecilia dropped her smile and went to the chow line. Grabbing a tray, she slid through the line, a mishmash of flood splatting onto the tray's plastic surface. Mashed potatoes and salisbury steak. Mouth watering at the scent, Cecilia pulled the closest chair out and sat herself down. Just as her fork stabbed into the steak, she heard a familiar voice,

"Cecilia! Long time, no see." A young man with blond hair and a huge smile slid into the chair across from her, "How did your excursion go?"

Slowly bringing the fork up to her lips, Cecilia ignored the man as she bit into the meat and chewed. His eyes moved an inch down from her own. Finally, after swallowing, Cecilia replied, "As well as can be expected. Mission successful."

She didn't go into details. Not because she didn't want to share the contents of her story, but only because she knew anything she said would go in one ear and out the other. He wasn't here to listen to her talk. In fact, his intentions were made obvious from the get-go. Just another curse my father inadvertently gave me. Even so, there wasn't anything malicious in that thought, just a hint of resignation.

There was nothing that would ever make Cecilia hate being the daughter of that man. As the man droned on and on with his irrelevant speech, Cecilia felt the hand her metallic claws were on twitch.

[Pheasant]

Well, good thing James has no magical defenses. Or magical anything, really.

[Dnafein]

I thought Storm said we were full up.

[Snotgirl]

Well, then, I can't wait to be rejected.

[Pheasant]

Someone always drops. Its inevitable.

[Cfavano]

Its inevitable.

Guys, Pheasant was possessed by Agent Smith

[Denraven]

I've got my money on at least 4 people dropping before the second round of posting is done.

[.Karma.]

Given the people we have... I'll take you up on that bet. I bet there is maybe 1 but definitely not 4.

[Aureyon]

I'm not sure whether to feel insulted or to be slightly amused that we have begun to take bets on how quickly people are going to drop. Bright lot of optimists, you are. :P

Edit:

Stormwolf: I'll have Aella finished tomorrow.

[Salroka]

I bet on two. Three if Sloth was here, but he's not.

Also... next time someone is trying to be satirical, maybe it would be best to not utilize so much edge that people a hundred kilometers away need bandages.

[Denraven]

But, that's half the fun of satire, making it believable.

[Salroka]

I mean, you're wrong... but whatever. I'm here to write, not to argue satire/sarcasm.

[Denraven]

Slow day.

[Pheasant]

No such thing when you're on Task Force Valkyrie.

[Salroka]

Don't push your binary concepts of fast and slow on us, you cis-speed bigot.

[SikstaSlathalin]

Well glad I missed the last few days of tomfoolery in this OOC. >.>

On a side-note so glad I'm playing a Manic with multiple personalities this time around. My Broken Cross Priest would be facepalming all day.

[Koti~]

Name: Lilith Uundia

Call sign: Bookwyrm


[FONT=Verdana]Gender: Female

Race/Species: Prism/Arctic Dragon, though she does take on a human form

[Age (Real and apparent, if applicable): 1120 real age, appears 18

Appearance:[FONT=Arial](Human)Due to her years with the Daelothians, Lilith stands at 5’4” and weighs just over 120 lbs. Even though she is rather skinny, most of her body is made of muscle, as a poorly balanced diet and years of intense physical activity has not allowed much fat to accumulate. Both her hands and feet are covered in heavy callouses, along with numerous scars dotting her body. Most of these scars have faded with time and are faint white lines. Her worse set are on her back, three vertical scars that go from just above her shoulder to just above her waist. Though there are three, anyone could tell the wounds were caused by a series of sword strikes.

Her eyes are a cool blue with a hint of green in them, along with some rather ice blue hair. She keeps her hair short and shoulder length, usually allowed to sit unbound and most of the time rather loose. Even though she spends a lot of time outside, her skin is rather pale, helping to accentuate her more cool colored hair and make them stand out more. While sometimes hard to spot, her upper incisors can be seen poking out when she smiles.

She prefers dresses over most forms of outfits. Along with these, she chooses sandals that strap onto the top of her feet, finding them more comfortable and not a large fan of close toed shoes. Though for needed times, she will wear sneakers, and does have a plethora of normal clothing such as jeans and t-shirts.

Lilith Picture (http://dawnaboveheaven.deviantart.com/art/Lilith-the-Dragon-Girl-446033905)

(Half Dragon) Being the stage in between human and dragon, Lilith’s appearance has radically changed. Standing at an impressive 6’8” total and now weighing 167 lbs, she has only gained a small bit of physical weight. She also now fields a set of horns that sprout forward before curving backwards to a narrow and rather imposing point. Top all of this off with a rather large wingspan of 13 feet and 3 inches and a 4’ tail covered in ice blue scales, and you have a very intimidating foe.

Her feet have changed, as well, sporting three 2” black talons and one large 3” talon from the heel for stability. The nails on her hands have also become curved and deadly, replaced with 2” claws for striking and slashing. These fearsome weapons have a hollow groove running along the inside and a slightly serrated edge to deliver terrible wounds. Her hair has also grown in length, reaching down to her lower back, and has changed to a much darker shade of blue.


Lillith’s skin has changed as well, becoming scales that cover nearly her entire body save for sensitive areas and places that need to bend frequently. These scales are ice blue in color and extremely durable. Her stomach is made up of white scales that are more flexible, helping defend against blunt weapons and even some magical attacks. However, they are not as sturdy against bladed weapons.

Her incisors have grown larger as well, jutting out of her mouth. Similarly, the rest of her teeth becoming sharper and more designed for tearing and ripping. Her eyes have also changed, becoming more animalistic. They still hold their greenish blue color, but instead of round pupils, they are pointed.

(Dragon) Lilith: The ice Dragon (http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2013/028/4/5/45856bbca645a24f7b7a35cce86fae15-d5t337t.jpg)



Personality:
Though an adult in every sense of the word, Lillith has a childish heart and is rather naive. She is also caring and willing to help others when she feels it necessary. Carefree as a snowflake on a winter breeze, she is rather hard to upset and rarely stays that way for long. This does tend to make her rather gullible at times, however… and she often finds herself in the occasional bit of trouble. In fact, sometimes the trouble is a direct result of her own actions.

Most first impressions tag her as rather absent minded and simple, not having much focus for intellectual conversation. In addition, she seems rather unable to keep focus on anything that bores her. That said, she is capable of holding a conversation, surprising most people whom she chooses to interact with. Far from silent, she is prone to rambling on and on when someone actually engages her in pleasant conversation.

As with most intelligent beings, she gets rather hostile when upset. Usually she starts with petty insults before moving onto more aggressive or violent acts. Due to her lack of proper social upbringing, she does tend to have some awkwardness about her, along with the occasional statement that she blurts out without thinking beforehand.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities:
Skills:
~Expert Archer
~Potent Melee Fighter
~Elite Aerial Acrobat
~Highly Skilled Lancer
While skilled in these arts, she is rather lacking in hand to hand combat, not having much staying power in that field. Secondly, she has lackluster skills with a sword, having trained more in the use of a lance or spear, making her easy to disarm against a trained swordsman.

As well, while rather skilled as an archer, it is rather limiting to use, as it doesn’t have the range or punch of a bullet fired from a gun.


Powers:
~Power of flight: As a dragon, Lilith has a natural gift and skill with flying, honed through years of combat and raw natural talent.
~Claws: As a dragon, Lilith can create a set of claws for her human self, making her even more of a threat in close combat.
~Ice manipulation/bending: Due to being a user of ice magic and years of training, Lilith has learned to control and manipulate all forms of ice. Her main use of this is weapon creation.
~Primal Roar: When Lilith enters either her half dragon or dragon form, she can release a massive burst of energy from her to create a giant blizzard around her. This can severely hinder her opponents and counter their movement.
Magic:
Human: While primarily an ice user, Lilith has gained knowledge of other types of spells, though primarily has learned how to use summoning magic the best, as it is the closest resembled to her skills.
=Summon Earth: Golem
-Cost: two turn/ medium
- Target/Self
- Appearance: This spell has two different styles of usage, one for defensive, the other for offensive. The first style forms a large dome around her, taking the shape of an old style terracotta doll. The second style is more offensive, which summons a golem the same size of a human, meant for one quick close attack.

=Summon Fire: Bird
-Cost: 1 turn/ low
-Target
- Appearance: Taking the form of a falcon, this spell is a fast moving bird that homes in on its target before exploding on contact. The explosion is rather small, more akin to getting hit with a fireball

=Summon Bolt
-Cost: 1 turn/ low
-Target
-Appearance: Taking the form of a fox, this is a fast moving attack. This, in addition to the spell usually taking a zigzag pattern to attack the opponent, makes it somewhat difficult to counter and evade. As an electrical attack, Bolt also has a chance of causing paralysis for a short time.

=Summon Ice
-Cost: low, instant
-AoE
-Appearance: Though extremely weak, she can create clones of herself. Up to five of these can be active at any given time. Though unable to attack outright, they can act as decoys and be focal points for other forms of magic, though they fade after being used in that way. They can only be used as a magical foci for low level spells.

=Rain Cloud
-Cost: Two turn. medium
-AoE
-Appearance: By drawing in a massive amount of chilled air into her body while in flight, Lilith can cause intense condensation in the air and large clouds that change the weather to a powerful rainstorm within a 100 yard radius. Though, this usually results in leaving her dazed for a few moments after.


=Ice Shell
-Cost 1 turn
-Self
-Appearance: Creating a shell around her body, she can form a barrier to protect against most forms of attack headed towards her. It is durable against physical blows, but rather flimsy against magic and energy based attacks.

=Tundra
-Cost: 1 turn
-AoS
-Appearance: Her hands glow an icy blue, with frost rising up around them. Upon making contact with her target, the object begins to rapidly freeze, ice covering the surface area rapidly and slowing them down.

-Arctic
-Cost 2 turn High
-AoE
-Appearance: Expanding her magic outwards in a rapid pace, Lilith can cover the ground in a 1 inch layer of ice, effectively creating a large arena to use for fighting. This does not cover objects that go above the one inch ground covering. The covered is a 20 m radius from her body in a complete circle. If there are buildings or enclosed places inside the circle, the floor will not freeze there.

Half Dragon: When she takes this form, she is unable to use her summons spells and gets a minor boost to her ice magic, yet she is rarely seen using it outside of simple ice projectiles.


Usage Style: While she has begun to learn some magic spells, Lilith is more used to bending and manipulating what ice she has around her, or create it from her body due to her dragon heritage. This fits well with her fighting style, which is close combat and far range magic.


Standard Loadout:
Summons wand= Created out of mahogany and topped with a small diamond, she can use this as a foci for her summons and even some of her ice spells to help focus and strengthen her spells.

Background:Before even hatched, Lilith was stolen as an egg from her family by a race called the Daelothians. During their raid, they managed to kill both her mother and father and siblings. During this attack, she was given flashes of her mothers attack, though they were buried deep within her subconscious. Her egg was ferreted away to the Daelothians main headquarters, an old family mansion deep in a rotted woods seemed trapped in perpetual death.

With their desire to create the perfect dragon killing creature, they began to mix in DNA of other dragons, altering and changing her DNA to give her stronger than normal magic, while making her easy to control. They managed to succeed rather well, though not as they had planned. She was born with strong magic flowing through her, but she lacked the normal control as a dragon, along with her shortened size and rather slow mentality. They found this useful to their plans, and considered their plan able to proceed forward.

For the first 50 years of her life, Lilith was confined to a small cell with a layer of hay on the floor for comfort. She was raised on iron rich blood to make her weaker and easier for the Daelothians to mentally control, along with being cruelly punished until she was able to retain human form at all times, leading to the forming of scars along her spine and the puppy dog loyalty to those who showed her kindness. Her Daelothian masters abused this, knowing that she would do whatever they asked her to do.

For the next 3 centuries, she was trained under their iron fist, from dawn until dusk, to fight and kill, giving bare minimum of knowledge needed to follow. Every day she was pushed to her limits and then beyond, giving her the treatment of throwing to the wolves. Once she hit the age of 150, they began to incorporate magic into the fighting, to push her physical skills farther, and begin the much more difficult task of training up her still unstable energy at that point.

By the time she hit age 370, she had become diverse in many different styles of combat, becoming proficient in fighting massive groups of enemies at once. Her body on the other hand was beginning to wear, the constant daily fights and physical strain limiting her growth and skill with each passing day. Deciding on a new tactic, they began to train her in solely magic at the age of 400, to allow her body to heal while getting her ice magic down. This was to be their downfall.

As a final test of her skills at the end of her magic training, she was shown to the largest gathering of Daelothians known, just few days after her 456th birthday. Her magic though was worn and strained beyond her limits, resulting in a cataclysmic event. Instead of the ice display, her magic exploded outwards, rapidly freezing the area while sending her into a cryogenic state, effectively causing the silent end of the Daelothians, and freezing her for 15 years in solid ice, her body absorbing small portions of ice to recover her body.

Once she had been freed from her ice, she spend the first 3 years wandering the wilderness, hunting and searching for some place to call home as her own home was now destroyed and her original family would no longer take her back due to her tainted blood. Eventually she wound up being rescued by King Arthur and Merlin, who had been out on a mission on their own.

They had met when Lilith had tried to take food from the two of them during the night, only to get ensnared by Merlins protective charms. Though Arthur was remiss to release her into the wild, Merlin proposed that she be brought along as a valuable asset, her strenght something he could easily see in her. She agreed heartily to protect her life, as well as hopefully finding a place to live.

She lived in the castle under Merlin’s tutelage, learning how to read and write properly, even control more of her magical abilities once they were discovered. Once it was revealed to them of her true birthright, she was close to being killed, a fearsome creature she was to humanity. Merlin had other plans that night, having spent time and care for the young girl at heart. Deciding the best place to keep her alive be the same people who would have hunted her kind down, proposing them the idea to make her their protector of the vaults, a true asset as none knew the lifespan of a dragon, and plenty new the powers that they wielded. So, with a promise to do him good, Lilith became a member of the Vigil, doing her best to live up to their honor and protect their treasure and lore.

RP Sample:Lilith was enthralled and scared of what was going on around her. Sweltering in the heat of the dessert, there was little she could do, having to rely on her summons over her more potent magic. She was surprised most of all that she was actually allowed on the mission, proving just how important that having this oracle child would be to their cause. Taking the time to charge another spell, she rested against the dune, wishing to be back in the cool dry castle, instead of scorching hot sand. Nipping a swig of water from a canteen, she peered around a corner, getting saved by quick reaction time as a bullet whizzed past her ear, leaving a humming trail behind it in her ears.

“Why guns, why does it have to be guns?” Lilith quietly complained as the crystal atop her wand lit up, making her smile happily. Peering over the top of the dune just as the gunfire fell down, she pointed her wand, chanting quietly under her breath before releasing the spell “Peregrine” to send a bird shaped flame at the cultist’s, destroying the dune and sending them flying. Giving out a sigh, she rested against the side of the dune, letting out a large sigh as she looked into the air at the near cloudless night. The fight was taking too long, most of their men wearing out in the heat of the desert and the lack of any breeze to cool them.

“If only we had a storm …. wait!” Lilith said eagerly, sitting up quickly and nearly startling those around her. Giving little explanation, she grabbed the canteens off her team mates and trudged a bit away from them, asking for a bit of time to work her magic. If she couldn’t wish up a storm, she would just have to make one. It would take a lot more work than usual, but it would be doable.

“Give them hell for me, I’ll be right back.” Lilith said, draining one entire canteen and using the water from the other to cool her off before she took off into the air, avoiding as many shots as she could, but still wincing in pain with each hit. Taking herself high into the air, she settled on an easy pattern of her wings, allowing it to calm her as she began to pool her energy, drawing in as much cold air as possible, feeling the heat rapidly escape her skin as the sweat dripped from her entire being.

It was nearly 5 minutes into the chant before it got anywhere close to what she needed, and anyone could see how her body shook.

“Let .. there be storms!” Lilith shouted into the air before a dark cloud began to pool out of her. One could almost feel the weight as it began to grow, the clouds darkening before it began to pour, a soft rain to slacken the earth and ease the heat and weariness of the day. Lilith herself felt relief before clipping her battered wings, sending herself into a vertical drop towards the ground, cursing forethought as she focused on re aligning her body. With a few meters left before the ground, she spread her hard, sending her almost horizontal before rolling in a straight tumble, landing with a hard thump into a nearby dune, head swimming painfully and body aching all over.

“Valkyrie - five, this is Lilith, I .. think I’m going to sit this out for a bit.” Lilith spoke into her mic, rubbing her head as she rested her body, wings splaying out behind her as she used what little energy she had left to seal up what wounds she could.

“Ten-Four Lilith. Stay safe and hidden. Thanks for the rain.”

[SikstaSlathalin]

Yay snowball! XD

[Aureyon]

So, I've been having trouble getting my laptop to connect to the WiFi we have. It keeps giving me the error "Wifi doesn't have a Valid IP Configuration." mind you that when I signed up it was connected. I'm not quite sure what happened.

If you guys know how to fix this, let me know. I'm not backing out, its just going to take a little longer to get it done.

[Denraven]

Wonder what's been keeping Storm? Guess work at the range must of been busy.

[Salroka]

Eyy! Koti! Bringing Lillith into this? Dorian is here, too! Ballin'.

[StormWolf]

Sorry for the delays, everyone. Co-worker got his hand jacked up and being the FNG, I was first pick to take on his shifts. Going through recent submissions and will be updating as I go.

[StormWolf]

Lilith is good to go, Koti. Accepted

Looks good, Persona. Accepted

Heinrich looks good, Den, though the text is particularly difficult to read. Had to highlight your post to go through it. Though that is more of a nitpick, please indicate what the runic rifling on his pistol does.

Helsing is accepted, Rycan

Thran is good to go, Cf. Have you sent me breaking points for him?

I will be updating the roster now.

On a slightly related note, I found a nifty antique bookshop in my town and snagged a 1st edition print of Lovecraft's "The Lurker at the Threshold".

[Snotgirl]

Sweet. Now we can play the waiting game.

[Rha'az]

Yass. Thank you!

Now... to wait

[Koti~]

Time for the magical snowball

[Denraven]

Updated.

[Lleona]

Question, is my character not approved? Since it was not placed on the character roster?. I pm'ed the breaking limit to storm... am i not in?

[Cfavano]

He probably is still reviewing it. Hes been busy and is ill

[Lleona]

eh? but i already received his evaluation about my chara.... i'll just go wait then...

[Dnafein]

He probably just missed putting it in place. He was probably tired.

[Cfavano]

Yeah. Stormy works hard and isnt a spring chicken anymore.

[.Karma.]

You sure mention peoples ages a lot. I don't think Stormwolf is not much different in age than I. Age probably has absolutely nothing to do with it nearly as much as he just overlooked when he was adding names to the roster and he was tired.

[Salroka]

Ladies. Ladies. There is no need to fight. We all know I'm the coolest one here already.

[StormWolf]

I take it as Cf noting that, despite seeing but 24 winters, I am a grumpy old man at heart. At least I'm not a racist uncle, though.

The fault was mine, Lleona. My inbox has been flooding with people's breaking points and your saying you made the edits must have been pushed down the list. I'll add you to the roster promptly.

[Cfavano]

That exactly storm. You may look like a Bloodclaw, but you are a Longfang inside.

[.Karma.]

XD and what are you inside, Cfav?

[Cfavano]

What am i? A paladin. A warrior of justice. I always try to be helpful and do the right thing. In my life i swing between lawful and neutral good.

[Denraven]

Storm, my breaking points will be Skype'd to you. Better than flooding your inbox.

[StormWolf]

You kidding me? I'm the Old Wolf beneath the golden mane and shapely eyebrows.

"Kids today don't true grit like we used to..."

And a sound idea, Raven.

I'm off to work, y'all. I shall remedy any lapses when the hour is late.

[Cfavano]

Lol you mean Leman of the Russ?

[Rha'az]

Leman fucking Russ. Probably, because Leman boy has those golden mane.

Haven't watched the new ITEHATTSD episode yet -_-

[Lleona]

I take it as Cf noting that, despite seeing but 24 winters, I am a grumpy old man at heart. At least I'm not a racist uncle, though.

The fault was mine, Lleona. My inbox has been flooding with people's breaking points and your saying you made the edits must have been pushed down the list. I'll add you to the roster promptly.

Thanks, sorry for being insensitive and bothersome when you're already tired.

[Koti~]

I'm the enigma!

[Griff]

//wanders around aimlessly

[Dnafein]

~hands gambit a scope~

Don't worry about it Leo, You weren't bothersome. I've seen Storm bothered, he wasn't bothered.

[Cfavano]

yeah Leo, you are good. I remember that in the laster iteration a chara was submitted that bothered him.

[Lleona]

i see, thats good to know then ^^

[Cfavano]

So why dont we all make lists about how our characters feel about each other? Loke specific thoughts for each one

[Dnafein]

or we could see what develops ic...

[StormWolf]

Start deciding call signs for eachother. Somewhat seriously, if you please.

[Rha'az]

Lancelot?

Wait, how many are we?

[Koti~]

I would suggest ice queen for Kyra and snowball for Lilith

[Rha'az]

Galahad for Salazar. Or perhaps Two-Face for his multiple personalities.

Bors the Younger for Thran?

But Sam will be Lancelot

XD I really need to stop calling chars as Round Table knights.

[.Karma.]

Haha, Koti... Ice Bitch would suit her personality. I love snowball for Lillith too, or even snowflake? What about something like "Holy Roller" for Salazar? Maybe something cat related for Cecillia, since she can elongate her nails?

[Griff]

Question...

I'm a bit slow. What are call signs?

[Cfavano]

Call signs are nicknames things like soldiers and special forces use when in the field. They are a way that agents and handlers can communicate with each other without giving away their real name. In case anyone is listening

For example, in medal of honor, you plays as members of two seal teams and some of their callsigns are: Rabbit, Deuce, Dusty, Panther, Mother, and Preacher. There are two others but i cant remember them

[Griff]

Oh okay. Thanks :)

[Rha'az]

Dibs on Lancelot.

Cecilia should be Sphinx (cat-related?)

[Griff]

Someone should be trashcan

//has no valuable input

-edit
June should be trashcan XD

[Rha'az]

Does an Oracle require a callsign?

[Salroka]

I would have asked if anyone was opposed to Caster for Dorian, but honestly I think I am going to withdraw. There were already many folks here before I signed on, and I feel like I am taking up attention that should be meant for those who were here first. That, and Storm has enough on his plate here without having a powerful otherworldly sorcerer thrown in the mix.

Storm. If you ever need someone to pop in later down the line if some fols drop or whatever, feel free to keep me in mind. But for now, I'll take my leave. I'll stay subscribed so I can pop my head in and check things out on occassion, though.

[Cfavano]

Giant, for me. Or Carlos Danger

[.Karma.]

Goliath maybe?

[Pheasant]

Mundy should suffice.

[Cfavano]

I thought about that, but thats a different culture

[.Karma.]

Do you choose your own call sign, or do others choose yours? Cause if others get to choose it, then SHUSH Cfav ;)

[Cfavano]

In the first one, we chose it. In the second i think others did

[Dnafein]

We don't choose ours according to starting post so dibs won'twork here.

[Griff]

XD I still vote Trashcan

[Cfavano]

Why?

[Griff]

I think "why not?" is a better question

[.Karma.]

Cause she's got a lot of junk in her trunk? XD

[Salroka]

So picture this. Here I was, browsing threads and feeling depressed about my favorite RP still being closed down. I come across a new one whose title piqued my interest. I click it. I browse it. I think to myself: "Wasn't I just in this and dropped it like... literally earlier today?" And then it hit me. The author of the thread has done this before. They copied something and changed tiny bits of it so it would be JUST DIFFERENT ENOUGH to piss people off but MAYBE not get in trouble.

Hey Storm. You might want to go check THIS (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83767) out and talk with someone about it. They did it to one of the Rumble participants like two months or so ago, too. To TWO of his RPs, from what I recall.

[Cfavano]

Actually it sounds more like The Order 1880

[Snotgirl]

Hey Storm. You might want to go check THIS (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=83767) out and talk with someone about it. They did it to one of the Rumble participants like two months or so ago, too. To TWO of his RPs, from what I recall.

That's actually hilarious.

[Salroka]

Actually it sounds more like The Order 1880

Maybe if you don't look into things and see that said author was in THIS thread... talking about ARTHURIAN KNIGHTS... and has copied RPs in the past. Then yeah, I can see Order 1886 a bit.

[Griff]

Cause she's got a lot of junk in her trunk? XD

Hmm....no.

Maybe the Trashcan is a metaphor of her brain...~peace~

[Cfavano]

Oh i yhought that was what you were gonna call Thatangeir because he smells bad.

Id be like, he's killed men for less.

[.Karma.]

None of us are scared of him.

[Cfavano]

Okay

[Denraven]

Like, at all.

[Cfavano]

Okay

[Denraven]

I'm going to cast my vote to have Cf's call sign be Solomon/Grundy.

Koti~ Can be. . .Elsa!

[Cfavano]

Koti can be Winter

[Koti~]

Mm