Purgament 2020- The Desolate Plains
With the suddenness of an earthquake the entirety of RPA begins to shake and shudder. The tallest buildings sway in time with the seismic rumbles dancing like giant waltzers. The vibrations begin to rip the earth apart fire and smoke belching out from the cracks in the earth. The quake continues to move the very foundations of RPA to its core.
The rips soon connect forming into a single giant hole like a huge mouth from hell opening up with a bestial like roar and from the ghastly opening erupt sixteen portals. Each with its own aura, it's own...malicious light. As the doors come fully into view the earthquake stops leaving the ground split apart and broken. And a deafening silence fills the air. A great cavern has opened up around them, a palatable energy thrumming through the air. Soon the portals begin pulsing with their own power and weapons shoot from the glowing depths of each ethereal doorway. They embed themselves in the ground each in perfect condition and standing tall as if waiting for someone to come claim them.
A few seconds pass before strange shadowy creatures crawl out of the portals and drag themselves up to stand behind each weapon aside they are humanoid in shape, but that aside there is no distinction between them, not even male or female body shape. Each around six feet tall, but utterly featureless like they were motionless mannequins made out of ink.
All is still, as if someone has grabbed hold of the wheels of time and forced them to stop spinning. The world begins to ripple a few seconds after though and a lone figure walks into existence. His garbs clacks and jingles as he walks the skulls of unknown enemies jangling all about him. His grinning face twisted to an almost cartoonish length the smooth bones of his skull glistening in the unexplained lights of the portals the grisly scythe in his left hand making the ground boom as if hollow. Walking past the faceless figures he lifts the weapon high and bangs it firmly one the ground. The figures begin shuddering as if in pain before gripping their respective weapons. Each figure strike a pose in perfect time from left and right in a cool calculated sequence
1:Spoiler: Jester, defeated in Round 1 vs Bard
Rayfire
Name- Risus Haas
Age- 26
Race- Human (German)
Gender-Female
Class- Jester
Weapon and fighting style- Whip-sword, unpredictable medium ranged fighting style.
Short bio/ class description: Be it by skill or tricks the battle is always up for grabs till the last opponent falls. You are the Jester, bouncy and playful both inside and outside of combat. But the greatest mistake your opponent can make is to underestimate you or your equally unique sword.
Abilities: Based around keeping your foe from getting close and confused while you chip away at their body.
1: Whip Strike: A medium ranged attack that gives small cuts, but is better at keeping the foe from landing a hit. Takes up one action point and accuracy is decided by dice roll.
2: N/A
3: N/A
4: N/A
Part 1: Born to a court of fools, life was one long joke. Joy and hope walked hand in hand along the halls of your home. Your family was a troupe of performers, you traveled all around Europe bringing laughter from the lowliest of marketplaces to the grandest of royal courts.
Part 2: N/A
Part 3: N/A
Part 4: N/A
2:Spoiler: Paladin, Victories: 3RedKayne
As you reach the end of this brutal tournament your body has collected more scars and damage these few short weeks than you have in 35 years of life. Most of your body is covered in healed over burn scars, you shoulder sports a deep star shaped wound, your left hand is marred by a deep black scar across the palm. But most noticeably your eyes, while clear are now bright gold in color.
Name- Brutus MacTavish
Age- 35
Race-Human (Scottish)
Gender- Male
Class- Paladin
Weapon and fighting style- Mace and shield, defense heavy, weapon and shield fighting style.
Short bio/ class description: Grizzled and forthright, when an opponent faces you they best be willing to kill you quick or die themselves. You are the Paladin, bold and unmoving you are the last of the Order of Steel for good reason. With your mace and shield you can withstand the terrors of the night and make the unholy quake before you.
Abilities: Based around standing firm against all attacks and punishing those who get within your reach.
1: Deflect: With your shield you can deflect a single incoming attack. Uses up one action point, one round cooldown
2: Firm: As sturdy as your faith, you know how to plant your feet and make it hard to be knocked off them. Passive Ability
3: Purity: Because of your training and dedication to your Order you are naturally resilient to mind tricks and temptation. Passive Ability
4: Judgement: Swinging your mace in powerful arch you can sunder armor and deliver painful wounds onto your foes. But due to the wind-up needed for such power it can be dodged by a quick enough foe. Uses up action point.
Part 1: Your life before the Order of Steel was dull and not worth mentioning. You were an only child of a pair of farmers. They raised you with faith and they taught you to put the light first and protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.
Part 2: Years of training later, gallons of sweat lost, and more than your share of blood. But you earned your place among the brotherhood you have long sought to be part of. Thriving under adversity and excelling at the Holy Writ of Steel you rise up quickly through the ranks digging deeper and deeper into the heart of your Order beginning to ignore all else around you.
Part 3: You are a Veteran of Steel...you’ve led countless battles against every form of evil and darkness the world has to offer. Killing is second nature to you, your mace has crushed more skulls than you care to count. But your focus has always been forward, you got your orders and you followed them blindly. Even as brothers you knew your whole life vanished around you never to be seen again.
Part 4: How deep had the Demon’s influence gone? How many members of your Order had been won over or destroyed? How could you have been so oblivious? You are the last one in the temple not to kowtow to the dark. Rage over came you...golden red light filled your eyes and before you knew it countless thralls lay in a trail of death behind you. Was your God on your side? If he was...watching your heavy mace cave in the skull of some young initiate not even old enough to shave would surely turn him from you. Yet still you fought on, the one responsible for defiling your home must pay. Eventually you found him...cowering at the heart of the temple, he plead for his life...he offered you riches and power beyond your reckoning. But when none of that worked and your mace came down upon his horned head he had a final cowardly trick to pull. A Death Curse was cast upon you and even as you felt his skull turn to mush, your soul was bound in ethereal chains of darkness and corruption. It would’ve killed a lesser man instantly, but you are no lesser man. It will eventually take you, but you will send the entirety of Hell’s forces to death’s door ahead of you before you breathe your last.
3: The third figure, like the second, grips a single weapon and breaks it into two. With quick flowing movements the shadow spins the tonfas around it's hands and arms before executing an expertly done backflip. Landing in a crouch the figure stands to its full height and crosses the tonfas over it's chest before it holds them both out before it.
"The tonfas are perfect for the acrobatic fighter."
4:Spoiler: Assassin, defeated in Round 1 vs Paladin
Breggo13
Name- Solana LaCroix
Age- 107
Race-Vampire (French)
Gender- Female
Class- Assassin
Weapon and fighting style- dual-wielding daggers, deceptive close up and personal fighting style.
Short bio/ class description: One with the night from birth, you strike like a shadow and utilize the world around to win without seeing your foe face to face. You are the Assassin, while looks will always be deceiving your twin daggers make your opponent pay the most dear of prices whenever they let their minds wander.
Abilities: Using speed and the land around you to trick and strike your enemies unexpectedly.
1: Backstab: Moving behind your foe you stab them in the back delivering small damage and surprising your foe. Takes up one action point and can fail if the foe is aware.
2: N/A
3: N/A
4: N/A
Part 1: Some are turned against their will, others willingly go into this life, but you were born into it. You had no choice, pure blood vampires are among the most powerful. You are no different, faster, stronger, one with the night. Trained to kill, expected to spill and drink blood. But deep within you, something just doesn’t feel right when you look at your daggers and see the faces of the innocents you have killed.
Part 2: N/A
Part 3: N/A
Part 4: N/A
5: The next figure grips the handle of the hammer next to it and despite the weapon being as tall as the figure it easily lifts it up with one hand and actually tossing it up with a flick of the wrist only to catch the hefty weapon above it's head and smash it hard into the ground shattering the already fractures ground a few times before it grips the hammer with both hands and leaps into the air crashing it full force into the ground creating a small crater under it before it grips the butt of the hammer with both hands tilting it slightly forward.
"The hammer is perfect for the mighty fighter."
6: The next figure grips the long spear before it with one hand and began thrusting it into the air around it leaping in skillful hops jamming down at various angles before it dives to the ground and begins rolling around jabbing with the blade and spinning on its shoulder sweeping the legs of an invisible opponent before it returns to its feet spinning the spear up over it's head with a single hand before it flips the weapon around and presents the butt of the spear.
"The spear is perfect for the skillful fighter."
7:Spoiler: Mage, defeated in Round 1 vs Raider
SaltyIrishman
Name- Aafje le'Fay
Age- 85 (looks early 30s)
Race-Human (Welsh)
Gender- Female
Class- Mage
Weapon and fighting style- staff/magic, balanced fighting style using magic as a buffer more than attack or defense and your staff as both a magic weaver and bludgeoning weapon.
Short bio/ class description: They say knowledge is power, and greater knowledge leads to greater power. You are the Mage, the arcane runs deep in your blood and with the grace and skill born from years of training you buffer your own body and mind to outlast even the strongest of warriors.
Abilities: Based in buffer magic that allows you to take some more hits and hit slightly harder.
1: Ward: Taking up one action point for a round you can cast a spell that will absorb some of the damage from a single incoming attack, does not negate it, but lessens it slightly. One round cooldown after ability is used.
2: N/A
3: N/A
4: N/A
Part 1: From a line so steeped in magic, your surname has become synonymous with the art, you are the latest in the prestigious house of le’Fay. You are the sum of centuries of careful breeding and experience condensed into someone potentially able to rival the great Morgana in sheer power and mastery. It is a lot of weight to bare, but the women in your family have never been so weak as to not be able to bare it with pride and elegance.
Part 2: N/A
Part 3: N/A
Part 4: N/A
8:Spoiler: Samurai, Victories: 2, defeated in Round 3 vs PaladinDnafein
Only now you sport healed burns and some new scars adorned your body from your previous battle Even more scar adorn your body and with your blade's thirst being satiated for another round it grows in power and has made your eyes turn a blood red and you become more ravenous for battle yourself.
Name- Kano Masamune
Age-130
Race- Oni (Japanese)
Gender- Male
Class- Samurai
Weapon and fighting style- katana, savage striking combat.
Short bio/ class description: Equal parts ruthless and skillful, your blade bites through the very air around you. You are the Samurai, a warrior of infamous skill and unbelievable savagery many have fallen to your katana, but many must fall before your blade is satiated.
Abilities: Based around being a very savage and relentless fighter.
1: Savage Slash, an extra powerful, but inaccurate attack that takes up one action point for the round. Hit decided by dice roll.
2: Might of the Oni: As an Oni you are extremely strong able to resist being disarmed. Passive Ability
3: Frenzy: Anger is your friend, once per battle you can dump all your pain and emotion into making yourself wild and double your damage output, Uses up action point, lasts only one round and you are oblivious to the world outside of killing your foe.
4: N/A
Part 1: To be an Oni is to be at war, to be at odds with the world. Be the warrior above all warriors. The greatest owe fealty to no one, your childhood was very much like your adulthood, but with more blood and pain. That’ll all change someday though, you just need the right edge.
Part 2: You are still young, but you are becoming better. Your kanabo has tasted much blood both Oni and non-Oni. But still there are many above you and you can’t stand it any longer. You need to be the best, you need to live a day without worrying about someone laughing at you. Your kanabo isn’t enough, your strength isn’t enough, nothing you do is enough! You’ll never be anything unless you can be the one all fear and respect. You will get that edge...or die trying.
Part 3: Yes...here it is. The edge you’ve been wanting, an ancient blade locked away in the tomb of an ancient Oni Shogun. You didn’t know his name, nor did you care. He had died, maybe as one of the best warriors of his time, maybe he was a lucky coward. Doesn’t matter to you, his treasure is now yours. A blade made of what looks like the pure night, it’s aura calls out to you. Reaching past the dead warrior’s tomb you break the case holding it and as your hand touches it the blade comes alive. The shadows that were slumbering in the razor sharp steel jumped to your hand latching onto you pulling itself to your grip. Your mind is flooded with images from not only the ancient Shogun’s past, but images from every warrior who has ever touched the blade. Oni, Djinn, Humans, so many warriors have held this blade. Each one poured years of experience into it and fed the blade’s desire for death and blood. And you’ll be happy to continue that tradition.
Part 4: N/A
9:Spoiler: Bard, Victories: 1, defeated in Round 2 vs Gladiator
Koti
Name- Bri Ceoltóir
Age- 25
Gender- Female
Race- Dwarf (Irish)
Class- Bard
Weapon and fighting style- rapier, quick well targeted strikes at an enemy’s weak points
Short bio/ class description: From the bars to battlefields, music follows action and gives poetic meaning to the many conflicts throughout history. And as the Bard, you are the voice behind that meaning. With either your rapier or your violin you put yourself where the action is and make sure all those around you can hear the story you are telling.
Abilities: Based on speed and charm, you fight light and ready.
1: Chop-Chop: A quick small damaging attack uses up one action point and gives equal to two cuts each hit.
2: Short Stack: While bigger is often considered better. Being short does have it's advantages. Sometimes a taller foe's attack will simply swing over your head missing you. Accuracy decided by dice roll. Passive Ability
3: N/A
4: N/A
Part 1: Always a happy little girl living in Goldscar Mine with your mother, father, and six siblings. While your siblings followed in your father’s footsteps and became Miners. You followed a different path, one pioneered by your mother. You became a Bard much to her joy, you could sing and strum on the lute before you could walk. And once you mastered that dancing was quickly added to your repertoire. From then on life was one festival after another as you followed your mother across the mines as her apprentice.
Part 2: It wasn’t long after you began your “world tour” that you found your life for the violin. An instrument not common among wandering Bards, but one you felt an almost spiritual connection to. You picked one up at a small Pawn Shop and your body shivered involuntarily. Moving on their own accord your small fingers slowly danced along the rough unpolished wood, twanged the dry strings to check the tune, and spun the frayed bow around your fingers like a witches wand. It was rough, but it would be yours come cave-in or high water. You worked as a server while your mom sang and soon you had earned enough to buy the violin and restore it to perfect working order. It was your pride and joy and with it you joined your mother on stage at every stop beginning to make a name for yourself.
Part 3: N/A
Part 4: N/A
10:Spoiler: Warden, defeated in Round 1 vs Samurai
Dire Hoef
Name- Sergei Nightclaw
Age- 29
Gender- Male
Race- Wolfman (Russian)
Class- Warden
Weapon and fighting style- greatsword, powerful and balanced strikes, but hard to stop once it gets going.
Short bio/ class description: The power of a barbarian locked inside the mind of a knight, power is your style, but balance is your money maker, you are the Warden. War is your life and peace is your enemy. You fight for the highest bidder and you never fault on a contract.
Abilities: Centered around strong sweeping attacks and endurance.
1: Senses: As a wolf your sense of smell and hearing are very keen Passive Ability.
2: N/A
3: N/A
4: N/A
Part 1: Your first memories were of looking up at the night sky, alone but neither scared nor cold. The wind blew mournfully around you, and as it fluffed your young fur you couldn’t help but join in. Lifting your head you howled at the moon above you. It was an instinct, but it served a greater purpose. A passing mercenary company called the Iron Wardens heard your cry and soon you found yourself adopted by a group of bloodthirsty killers. But to you they were family and even named you Sergei after the Sergeant who officially took you under his wing and Nightclaw from the fact what parts of your paws they could see beneath all the blood was black as the night.
Part 2: N/A
Part 3: N/A
Part 4: N/A
11:Spoiler: Inquisitor, defeated in Round 1 vs Conquistador
Leanna
Name- Kindra Asa
Age- 30
Gender- Female
Race- Human (Iclandic)
Class- Inquisitor
Weapon and fighting style- War Scythe, well-timed sweeping attacks with good defense.
Short bio/ class description- Stoic and unwavering, you are the long arm of the law in your city. You are the Inquisitor, powerful and swift your War Scythe strikes fear into the lawless and quickly strikes down the foolish.
Abilities: Centered around maintaining control of the battle and taking the fight to the enemy.
1: Keenly Aware: Due to your job and training it is hard to catch you unaware. Passive Ability
2: N/A
3: N/A
4: N/A
Part 1: Born in a small fishing village along the coast, no one ever expected you to grow beyond the station of a fisherman’s daughter. Let alone become the Inquisitor of the capital’s largest prison. But it has been your dream since an Inquisitor came to your village and helped the town find your youngest brother who had been kidnapped from his crib one night. That man was equal parts hero and inspiration and you kept him in your mind as a goal to strive for. And strive you did.
Part 2: N/A
Part 3: N/A
Part 4: N/A
12:Spoiler: Conquistador, Victories: 1, defeated in Round 2 vs Paladin
Holeypaladin
But now you have burn scars from your time in the fiery forest.
Name- Antenor Ramirez
Age- 125
Gender- Male
Race- Naga (Spanish)
Class- Conquistador
Weapon and fighting style- Halberd, largely defensive attacks with powerful offensive strikes.
Short bio/ class description- With savage ambition you conquer the tribes you come across with shocking speed and incredible defense. You are the Conquistador, cunning and ruthless you bend countless weaklings to your will solely to build up your power and influence.
Abilities: Based around cunning maneuvers and long snake-like strikes.
1: Coiled lunge: Coiling your body behind you you wait for the enemy to get close than jump out stabbing with the spear-point of the halberd. Good for a surprise strike, but harder if the opponent is aware, use up one action point.
2: Thermal Sight: Like many other snakes of the world you can see the body heat of your foe if they have any. Passive Ability
3: N/A
4: N/A
Part 1: Born to the noble house of Ramirez you lived a life of luxury and ease. You learned from the best tutors and sword masters. Your life was set out before you without you even lifting a finger, and that suited you fine. You excelled where you were expected, but was quite happy to stagnant on sweets and watching the servants bend to your beck and call.
Part 2: As you grew beyond childhood your tastes grew as well, wine and tender meat replaced sweets and the daughters of your father’s friends replaced your pastime of watching servants scamper before you. While the food was nothing new, the daughters were much more fun to watch scamper about. A woman’s heart is like a toy to you and your brothers, your tutors and sword masters taught you tricks, and like everything else you excelled at using them. Many dalliances and broken hearts followed you through your teenage years. Their tears were like small trophies showing your conquests of weaker people. Your name and reputation grew in infamy and you were forced to fight a number of duels after your found out the women were married when you conquered them. But that was just more fun to regale your drinking buddies with.
Part 3: N/A
Part 4: N/A
13:Spoiler: Lancer, Victories 1
Holeypaladin
Name- Gytha Smyth
Age- 34
Gender- Female
Race- Human(English)
Class- Lancer
Weapon and fighting style- Sword-staff, strong punishing attacks that aims to disable or neutralize as quickly as possible.
Short bio/ class description- Straight of back and clear of mind, you lash out with a power born from a deeply ingrained duty to help those you love. You are the Lancer, a member of an ancient guard force tasked with protecting not only the High Ladies of the King's Court, but the towns themselves when the men cannot. With your sword-staff and the best education and training in the kingdom you’ve been fighting and bleeding for the monarchy since adolescence. But retirement looms near and you are looking forward to picking up a hoe or child in place of your weapon.
Abilities: Based around ending a fight quickly and bettering your position at any given time.
1: Cripple: Using the butt of your weapon you smash your foe's knee hobbling their movement for a round. Uses up one action point, one round cooldown.
2: Resolve: You are a woman of duty and purpose, as such you are fearless and resistant to mind tricks. Passive Ability
3: Impale: Using the full length of your weapon you stab harshly into your foe and can gravely wound them. Uses up one action point, one round cooldown.
4: Tactician: Because of your training with the Lancer Maidens you are well versed in history and battle tactics allowing you to plan ahead and use the land around you to aid you in battle. Passive Ability
Part 1: While not uncommon for a child to follow in their parent's footsteps. A young girl wanting to follow in her father's as a member of the King's Royal Guard is a rarity bordering on unheard of. But that was you even when you ran around in dresses and learned to sew like all the other girls your age. But in your land a father is expected to have a son to pass on the family heritage and business to. But your mother died shortly after you were born and your father loved her too much to remarry and try to have a son. So he kept you, and as loving and good as he was, you saw the weight of everything on his shoulders and wanted more than anything to help him carry that load and be like the son he never got to have. Keeping the house and helping him with his job as the Captain of the Royal Guard by running errands for him, you were basically his squire as well as his daughter. And you wanted it no other way. He was both mother and father to you so it seemed only fair.
Part 2: As you grew in age and maturity you also grew in body. It wasn't a secret in your little village that you were a daughter filling a son's role. But you could hide it better was a child, dress as a boy, keep your hair short or done up under a cap when you accompanied your father aboard or to the King's Palace. But as you began to flower into womanhood the constant exercise and training you did with your father at home had turned you into a tall and remarkably beautiful young woman. Boy's clothes didn't fit you anymore nor could you keep your hair short or your voice convincingly deep. Talk of marriage and "proper" training as a lady would harangue you two whenever you tried to continue the ruse. It often forced your father to duel loud-mouthed fools or leave the new place as quickly as possible. You couldn't put him through that not with his old age slowly creeping up on him. But you also couldn't just stay at home like a milk skinned virgin singing songs to the birds and rabbits while you waited anxiously for your father to return or dance around the maypole trying to attract a husband. Luckily there is a path open to girls like you, but it's one that goes against your more girlish hopes and dreams. And your own father's hopes and dreams for you. The Path of the Lancer Maidens, a type of hometown guard force that supplements but many times replaces a Town's Guards. They were a roving national guard force called upon to fill in numbers and take over when men are at war...and men are always at war someplace. But one of the central oaths of the Lancer Maidens is no children or marriage while on active duty. Despite the bias rule the Lancer Maidens are an ancient and deeply respected Order viewed as essential to the infrastructure of the Kingdom as they were often solely tasked with protecting the Queen, Princesses, and other ladies of the Court as they traveled abroad. Joining would mean you can carry even more of your father's burden! But it would also mean you wouldn't see him for weeks or months on end nor could you give him any grandchildren, at least not with all your wits and limbs intact, as death or catastrophic injury are usually the only ways you leave the Lancers.
Part 3: On the eve of your fourteenth birthday you were sworn into the Lancer Maidens after passing the two years of training at the Maiden's Temple deep in the windy plains that dominated the southern kingdom. It was the proudest moment of your life made all the better by seeing the wrinkled beaming face of your father as you crossed the courtyard to receive your blue and white mantle. Sadly that would be the last time you saw him for a very long time. You and the other graduates were supposed to be given a week's respite before beginning your actual duties, but a neighboring kingdom declared war the following day launching a devastating surprise attack on the King's Capital. The King was saved, but many of the guards were killed before they could mount a defense. Once safe from the treachery the King launched an immediate counter attack sending every able-bodied man and many of the boys to war leaving huge holes in the defenses of the villages and towns. This is what the Lancer Maidens were created and trained for, so all of you were sent out by the squad to protect the innocent people from the chaos that always follows war. You saved your first villager by the end of the third day...and killed your first bandit on the fourth. Blood stained your hands before you even got your first kiss.
Part 4: Twenty years went by in a whirl of blood and dirt. You learned the hard way how gray the line between good and evil is. As you go up in rank you find yourself making harder and harder decisions. Sometimes the fate of an entire family rest firmly in your hands, you need to decide who lives and who dies. The war that started your career only lasted five years, but the losses were tremendous on both sides, leaving many wives without husbands and children without fathers. This led to a lack of guidance and temperance which led to more misguided young fools looking to cause trouble. You lost track of how many young men you locked up or broke the hands of, for something as stupid as starting a brawl in a local tavern. Eventually you did get back to see your father, even in your plate mail and ragged mantle you were still his little girl after all. You could usually manage a yearly visit, but each year you saw the decades of fighting wearing down the once proud and powerful form of your dad. He had retired from being the Captain of the Royal Guard about six years ago, and while he had been doing his best to keep busy your visits were always the highlight of his year. And each time...you like to think unconventionally...he would remind you of how much he liked to tell old stories to children. He knew the doctrines of the Lancer Maidens, but old men like rambling and dreaming sometimes. Still it gave you a bittersweet feeling, he was happy, but he was also lonely. You always did want a family, but the Oaths were unbreakable and you weren't looking forward to chopping your foot off to go have babies. Still all rules had exceptions, you just needed to find it. And you did, after twenty years of honorable service a Lancer could retire if she served at least a year working in the Maiden's Temple and took a vow of silence. It wasn't a common occurrence, as most women either die or take a liking to the life of adventure and blood and become Matrons of the Lancers involved with training of the new girls and logistics to keep the Order going at full strength until they die in glorious battle sometime in their golden years. You laid your sword-staff down and dedicated yourself to the Temple. It was peaceful...truly peaceful, a peace you never knew could exist. Your year came and went and it would be up the day before your thirty-fifth birthday. You were planning to celebrate it with your father then begin trying to find an honorable man, but one night as you and your sisters slept bandits attacked the Temple. It was random as far as any of you could figure out, but you all knew it would be the last thing these idiots would do.
14:Spoiler: Raider, Victories: 1, defeated in Round 2 vs Samurai
Kiro Akira
Now with burns on your arms and legs from the Mage's orb attack and some cuts from the thralls' blades, but it only adds to your ferocity and glory.
Name- Ingo Ryker
Age- 34
Gender- Male
Race- Gnome(Danish)
Class- Raider
Weapon and fighting style- A pair of war-axes, very quick and agile fighting style.
Short bio/ class description- From the wild seas to the desolate plains of the pillaged coast, you fight with the speed and ferocity of a wounded wolf. You are the Raider, the first and greatest son of your war tribe, death follows you across the waves catching all the fools who cross you on your path for glory and honor.
Abilities: Centered around fighting with sheer agility and ferocity.
1: Charge: You rush into a confrontation and can deliver two attacks at once, but can miss. Uses one action point and accuracy is decided by dice roll
2: Axe Throw: Using one or both of your axes you can hurl them at you foe. Uses up one action point, can potentially disarm yourself, accuracy decided by one or two dice rolls, and cooldown is based on how quickly the weapon(s) can be recovered.
3: N/A
4: N/A
Part 1: Clan Ryker, the greatest Tribe of warriors among the Gnomes of the raging north seas. And you are are the first born son of Chief Grissmoud, his heir, his student, his greatest creation. Born for greatness and trained to be just that..great. You lived in privilege, but you also lived in war. Constantly fighting and training to be molded into the very best, but you loved it and you grew into exactly what you were expected to. You found your love of duel-wielding and your weapons of choice being a pair of war axes. Even as a child you were a whirlwind of pain and death. Keeping your masters on their toes and your father proud of you.
Part 2: Your body and your skills grew with each day. Broken bones, gushing cuts, battered knuckles. You've dealt it all and had it all, no matter a warrior's skill he who learns without losing isn't learning right. Innate skill goes a long way, but training goes even further. But you never had to worry about losing much, you were the best of the best. Confidence is a deadly mix when matched with great skill and constant ego boosts from your family. As was the case with any promising warrior you found yourself surrounded by the best mead, most tender meat, and most...flexible companions. And with each achievement you gain even more, and you still being considered a sprat unable to grow a proper beard. Life was good and it would only be getting better.
Part 3: N/A
Part 4: N/A
15:Spoiler: Nomad, defeated in Round 1 vs Gladiator
Vaidia
Name- Scheherazade Elbia
Age- 24
Gender- Female
Race- Human (Arabian)
Class- Nomad
Weapon and fighting style- Scimitar, very quick almost dance like strikes using your flowing garment to distract and misdirect.
Short bio/ class description- A deadly dance matched with a face to die for. You are the Nomad, a desert rose with no place to set down roots. Living by your wits, looks, and mesmerizing skill with a blade you live with the earth as your bed and the sky as your blanket.
Abilities: Based around using dance like movements and flowing clothing to distract and quickly strike and keep the enemy guessing.
1: Distract: Using the folds of your outfit you can draw the enemy's eyes and strike at their blindspot. Counts as one action point.
2: N/A
3: N/A
4: N/A
Part 1: Born the daughter of a Sultan and his favored wife you were always a graceful and adventurous child. Dancing with the Dervish and learning the arts of storytelling from your mother and her sisters. Your father, the Sultan visited often, but left all but the most inescapable duties of parenthood to them. His attentions were always...elsewhere, but you never knew any other life so it was normal and it often meant you would soon have a new sibling to play with. That was your life and your family, but the stories your mother and aunts told kept you from dwelling too much on it. While all the tales were wonderful the stories of heroes and adventures into far away lands were always your favorite. You often acted these tales out in your freetime play fighting invisible foes or some of your bigger siblings when they were feeling up to it. Your sword was a slightly curved stick and your cloak and dress were suits of armor.
Part 2: N/A
Part 3: N/A
Part 4: N/A
16:Spoiler: Gladiator, Victories: 2, defeated in Round 3 vs Lancer
Mystress of Shadows
Name- Marcos Machado
Age- 26
Gender- Male
Race- Panthera (Brazilian)
Class- Gladiator
Weapon and fighting style- Hooded katars, wild offense oriented attacks that aims for vital points.
Short bio/ class description-With lightning speed and a reckless abandon you rip into your enemies like a twister and leave only blood and severed limbs in your wake. You are the Gladiator, blessed with the speed and physique that can only come from the jungle and a lifetime of brutal slavery. But you have never been one to let someone get the way of your desire to keep living.
Abilities: Based around quick attacks and agility.
1: Cat body: Very limber and agile in battle. Passive Ability
2: Raking Slash: Jumping at your foe you rake your weapons roughly down and wound your foe. Uses up one action point and can open you up for an attack.
3: Night-Eye: Like all cats you can see in the dark and your eyes move quickly to track your foe. Passive Ability
4: N/A
Part 1: Your first memory was of seeing the gentle yet exhausted face of people you assumed were you’re parent. A male and female with the same colored fur as you, black as night with eyes of the most vibrant green eyes. Sadly your second memory was the sounds of frantic screaming and the smell of everything burning. You felt fear and clung to your mother, but a loud crash made you shut your eyes before a sack of some kind was thrown over you and a heavy blow knocked you out. When you next awoke you were seated around a fire surrounded by a few kits that looked like you. Each had red puffy eyes from crying or battered bodies and faces, tears came to your eyes soon after. But a booming male’s voice froze them in your eyes, it was a large Leorn scarred from countless battles and missing the entirety of his right eye. “Fear not little cubs...this is your home now, and I Osei will be your new daddy. Prove strong and useful and it will always be.” The words became a mantra of sorts used by your mentors as well as Osei. And for the poor young souls captured by this bombastic Slaver it was their morning prayer. You in particular, you worked the worst jobs and had the constant worry about a beating for not working or walking quick enough. But you learned quickly and soon found a fighter’s spirit burning deep inside you.
Part 2: This spirit grew into a blazing coal as you began to fight back against the random beatings. Normally that would result in the worst beating of your life, but Osei had been present to witness your ferocity and speed. You still got the beating of your life, but once you recovered from the injuries you found yourself in a whole new world. Like other boys that had proved strong you were turned into a gladiator, the beatings you got as a hole digger were nothing compared to the ones you got learning the bloodsport of gladiatorial combat. But besides the beatings you also got educated in simple things like reading and writing as well fighting with weapons or your bare claws. Better than some of your fellow cubs weak boys were killed or sold off, pretty girls kept as prizes or sold off. It wasn’t good, but it was better than death. You fought on, everyday growing stronger and quicker.
Part 3: Living in blood often leads to dying in it. But if you are strong enough you never have to find out. And you have never had to worry about it, your speed and strength put you on par with most of your fellow slaves, but your spirit put you head and shoulders above most of them. Even in the unarmed matches you fought like your limbs were the weapons. The rules were simple: fight until one of you dies or gives up. Giving up meant death anyway at least under Osei’s rule, you remember quite a few friends who met that fate. The death wasn’t even the worst part, after the light had left their eyes Osei skinned them and hung them around the training arena as a reminder. Those images haunted your dreams every night and one of the longest running ones was seeing your body up there getting picked at by scavengers. That horrific sight played over and over in your mind each time you entered the arena. That fear put speed into your legs and power into your arms ensuring you live to see your bedroll that night. As you grew in wins so did your privileges grow. Better food, alcohol, breeding rites, some marginal further education. Life as a gladiator was good...as long as you kept winning. And you intended to keep winning.
Part 4: N/A
Once each ink creature has displayed it's skills and presented its weapon the Grim Grinner gives a low chuckle and waves his hand around signalling for the choices to be made and truths revealed.
NOTE: This whole sequence is another level of challenge for the players. They must choose based on the weapon shown and the hints giving in each description. Once a character is selected the player will be given the fuller sheet of each character who goes with that weapon. Everything but the bulk of the abilities and bio will be revealed upon the time of selection.
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