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Southbound - RP Sign-up & OOC Discussion


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#1 Maverick-Werewolf

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Posted 25 March 2011 - 06:11 PM

Wulfgard
Southbound



The wind is cold, and the air is crisp as you listen to the bustle about you. You are just preparing to depart Bjornburg, a large and impressive Northerner city that serves as the hub for many peaceful tribes. Seeing as how you are part of what you know to be a primarily Imperial trading caravan, it is surprising that you arrived here safely… and, when crossing Northrim to travel back into the Empire, you do not expect things to be easy.

Your caravan, however, has no official relations to the Empire, even with so many Imperials among your number. You and your fellows are simply a band of travelers, primarily tradesmen. Whatever your past and whatever your future, you have somehow found your way to this band of men and women who are merely trying to scrape a living through means of trade through the prosperous regions of the North and the West.

A line of carts – some pulled by horses, mules, or donkeys, and some smaller carts pulled by men – has arranged in preparation to depart. Crates and barrels full of many various wares have been snugly arranged within the carts, and the patient animals hitched to their fronts stand with their ears twitching about at all the noise. Many of the contents of the caravan elude you, but you know that it must be primarily wares such as furs, wood, and other goods that are common to Northrim, for these are the things that you generally trade.

The sky overhead is a beautiful shade of blue, interrupted now and again only by the occasion stray cloud of a white and innocent nature. A cool breeze brings to you the scents of baking bread, roasting meat, and occasionally the smell of mead from a nearby tavern that is, even at this early hour, full of noisy patrons. The men and the occasional horseman walking down the streets around you speak primarily in various Northern tongues. These noises are broken now and again by the warble of a happy bird that is most likely perched atop one of the wooden designs topping the roofs nearby – dragon, bear, and wolf faces are just a few examples of the magnificent carvings adorning the buildings around you.

“Let it never be said that men of the Bjornburg are inhospitable,” says the caravan leader as he passes you by, a handsome smile upon his rough and bearded face. “We have many supplies… but we must be wary of the roads here. This place is hardly as safe as the Empire.”

Upon reaching the head of the caravan, he turns about to face his caravan. His light brown hair glistens in the sunlight as the wind gently blows it about his shoulders, and he rubs his beard as he looks over each and every one of you with his keen grey eyes. You know his name to be Andreas Chariton, a native of Illikon who bears both Imperial and Northern blood. Though your group does not truly have a name, Andreas is known among your number for his generosity and willingness to allow people of both Northerner and Imperial heritage to become a part of his caravan, whether they are there as traders, guards, or even guides.

“We are bound for Illikon,” says Andreas, but he soon turns about with a simple wave of his hand, motioning for you to follow. “But that is a great journey from here, and we will discuss things further as we travel.”

You hear the creaking of wheels from the many carts as their bearers begin to plod after Andreas, who has mounted his chestnut stallion and started his trot toward the nearby city gates. He is, or at least seems to be, a decent enough leader – even if, perhaps, you may not trust everyone else within the group. Depending on how long you have traveled with him, or if you have traveled with him at all, you may be wondering how well he will hold together this band of tradesmen.

As you depart from the grand Bjornburg, a creeping feeling of danger begins to gnaw at the back of your thoughts. From whence such fears originate, you cannot be sure – their very presence is strange. Yet, somehow, you are certain you feel very troubled about something regarding this seemingly simple caravan. What could put you at such unease, you are uncertain, but you do know this: there are many valuable goods among this group… and many dangers waiting in the infamous wilds of Northrim.

_________________________________________________


No, not my best intro ever. I was trying to keep things simple, you understand. Things will be further expanded upon when the roleplay itself actually begins.

Now, as a few final notes…

This takes place before any events of The Legend of the Five (the main Wulfgard novels I am writing) or Into the North (the working title for Scorp’s comics).

Be sure to read every bit of information in every section before deciding who\what you want to sign up as. There are certain restrictions in place.

I just want to forewarn you that your character might die. If that happens, don’t worry; you might be able to sign up as another one if/when the story permits it. However, if you’re smart, you RP and plan well, and you post reasonably often, it is quite possible to keep your character alive.

I also want to forewarn you that I am going to be a bit pickier than usual about the characters for this RP. So, when signing up, bear in mind that Wulfgard is a low fantasy setting. I also suggest that you brush up on the lore using the official site, if you haven’t already, and be sure to look over the my notes for signing up for this RP.

I am aiming for a number of players ranging anywhere from 6-12 for this RP. I do not plan to approach anywhere near 20, as too many players are far too difficult to manage.

Character Creation



The Statistics of your character(s) may be different from what you are used to, so don’t just assume you know them all; look over them.

Also, I will be doing dice rolls in this game, so your character’s stats WILL actually have an effect on the game.

RACES
Man (Human) – The most common sapient beings, Men dominate all but the harshest regions of the mortal realm. Although one in every thousands of men may be born with magical affinity, they are viewed as inhuman and strange. Most men are non-magical and quite proud of it. In general men are tenacious and often seek adventure, though most all human societies fear such things as magic and monsters. Most are quick to learn new skills and adapt to new situations.
There is no limit to how many players may sign up as Men in this RP, but restrictions apply to certain Human Subrace. See the Subrace section for details.

Dwarf – Dwarves are usually about half as tall as the average human and tend to be broad-shouldered and stocky, giving even the females a masculine appearance. Nearly all dwarf males have beards, and traditional dwarven societies judge an individual by the length, thickness, and neatness of his beard. Most humans view dwarves as short-tempered, stuffy, and stubborn, and these are common dwarf personality traits, but so are loyalty, honesty, and steadfast (even hard-headed) determination. Some humans, upon first encountering the dwarves, might also make the mistake of assuming that dwarves are “fat” because of their short and broad physique. If they make the mistake of mentioning this aloud, they will most likely learn the hard way that most dwarves are almost entirely made of muscle. Of all the magical races, the dwarves probably have the most dealings with humans, since they engage openly in trade.

There may only be three Dwarf players (this number is negotiable if necessary), of any sub-race.
All Dwarves get +2 Endurance and -2 Charisma (since you’ll be with a bunch of humans, generally).

Elf – The more attractive and exotic magical humanoid race of the Western regions, elves are generally looked upon by humans as strangely beautiful, but aloof, uncaring, and potentially dangerous due to their magical nature. Elves are typically somewhat slimmer than humans, with angular features and pointed ears that vary in length from race to race. Unlike dwarves, whose females look rather masculine, the opposite is true of elves: their males look rather feminine, especially since they traditionally have long hair and generally do not grow facial hair as thick as that of humans, nor does it grow quickly. Elves tend to avoid contact with humans even more than dwarves, since they seldom engage in trade. Most are born with some degree of magical aptitude and live to extreme ages with little or no visible physical change, although they CAN be killed, and are generally physically weaker than other races. Their long lives give them great wisdom, especially in the elder elf races, and their lithe build gives them great physical dexterity to make up for their lack of hardiness and strength.

There may only be two Elf players (this number is negotiable if necessary), of any sub-race.
All Elves get +2 Agility and +2 Charisma, but -2 Endurance and -2 Strength.

SUB-RACES
MAN/HUMAN
Westerner – More commonly known as Imperials, Westerners are a diverse race of humans native to the Western region of the world, which is now known as the Empire. They have light skin and a wide variety of hair and eye colors.
There is no limit to the number of Imperials available, seeing as how this is a group of primarily Imperial traders.

Northerner – Called ‘barbarians’ by most Imperials, Northerners are native to Northrim, the Northwestern region of the world. Like Imperials, all Northerners are light-skinned, and have a variety of hair and eye colors, though most tend to be lighter in complexion. Northerners are generally taller than Imperials.
There is no limit to the number of Northerners available, seeing as how this RP is taking place in Northrim.

Mixed heritage – As always, races will mingle, and as always, some will shun them as outsiders. Half-Northerners are common around the Imperial-Northrim border. With tensions currently on the rise between the Empire and Northrim, however, they are finding it harder to fit in than ever.
There shouldn’t be too terribly many half-Northerners in the group, although I am not imposing any particular limit on their number.

Gifted, humans with magical abilities, are not available in this particular RP, so please do not ask to play as one.

DWARF
Mountain Dwarf – The most common type of dwarf, mountain dwarves are so named because their clan-halls usually rest at the foot of a mountain. They are the most human-like of the dwarves in nature and trade with them the most frequently, and thus can be found somewhat commonly in human towns, although they rarely actually live there. Many humans view them as greedy, however, because of their tendency to hoard great wealth in their mountain halls.
Mountain Dwarves’ hair is usually lightly colored: red, blond, or brown, and their eyes are usually lightly colored, either blue, green, grey, or light golden-brown.

Deep Dwarf – More reclusive and mysterious than the mountain dwarves are the deep dwarves, who dwell far underground, near the very roots of the earth. Although they are usually shorter, uglier, and even less friendly than mountain dwarves, they are not shunned or hated like dark elves. Humans find them more repulsive, especially their often heavily-bearded women, but mountain dwarves trade with them quite frequently. In many cases, while mountain dwarves are the ones to craft beautiful suits of armor and weapons from these metals, the actual Deepsilver, Deepgold, and Void Iron ores they use are originally mined by the deep dwarves.
Deep Dwarves’ hair is typically darker than their above-ground cousins’, ranging from dark brown to black. Grey hair is more common among deep dwarves, and some seem to be born with hair of that color, though white is still only found among the clan elders. Their eyes are paler than mountain dwarves. They range between the same colors, but at a lighter shade and less bright hue. Their eyes are usually sensitive to sunlight from time spent far underground, and most will shade or cover their faces in some fashion when on the surface during the day.

Hill Dwarf – Commonly considered the “least dwarf-like” of all dwarves, hill dwarves are a relatively peaceful people who live in small grottoes dug into the dirt of grassy knolls, rather than deep tunnels under stone. Although one might expect them to be more commonly seen than mountain dwarves as a result, the opposite is actually true, and hill dwarves are experts at remaining hidden. Also, their preference of farming over craftsmanship leaves them with less to trade with humans, although they do sometimes trade food for tools and weapons with the mountain dwarves. Humans still see them as greedy for hoarding their plentiful stocks of grain.
Hill Dwarves’ hair is usually earth-toned, ranging from light “dirty blond” to dark brown. As with mountain dwarves, grey or white hair is only found in the very oldest, although hill dwarves have shorter lifespans on average. Their eyes are usually darker than mountain dwarves, ranging from deep blue and green to brown.

ELF
Light Elf/High Elf – The “purest” of the elven races, high elves were some of the first beings created by the Vanir, and possess far longer lifespans than any other mortal creature. In fact, none has ever been known to die of mere old age, some living for thousands upon thousands of years, adding to their great wisdom with each passing century. Reclusive and aloof, they seem to consider other beings beneath them… which, perhaps, they are.
Light Elves’ hair color is typically golden, though it ranges toward red or brown in some individuals. Their eyes are nearly always bright blue or green.

Wood Elf – Perhaps the wildest and least “civilized” of the elves, wood elves enjoy frolicking and merriment to the stern stoicism of their high elf and night elf cousins. Dwelling in the treetops in well-disguised homes, they form small tribes and frequently move from place to place, seldom building thriving settlements or large towns. They have significantly longer and more pointed ears than high elves and generally more acute senses. They are perhaps the most nimble of all elves, climbing from tree to tree and using their bows with great skill, but lack the strength and endurance of other elves.
Wood Elves’ hair color is typically brown, in shades ranging from light "dirty blond" to dark and almost black (and very rarely a dark green, possibly from some relation to dryads). Their eyes range from a bright green to hazel to brown, though always of a light shade.

Shadow Elf – Dwelling in the deeper, darker areas of the forest, the shadow elves are the nocturnal cousins of the light elves, preferring the shadows and moonlight to sunshine. They have significantly longer and more pointed ears than light elves, due to their reliance on senses other than sight during the night (despite their acute night-vision), but otherwise appear mostly similar.
Shadow Elves’ have very dark hair that ranges from deep brown to black, sometimes with very dark purple or blue hues to be found. Their eyes are pale colors ranging from blue to green, and sometimes lavender.

SPECIAL RACES
I am allowing a few people to sign up as special races if they want to, but there will be a limited number. If you sign up as these you must read about them on the Wulfgard site, because I’m not going to have a list. If there is anything inaccurate about the creature(s) in your description\bio\etc., I will not allow you to play as that creature.

Please PM me with your request about a special subrace, or even a special race, as we will have to discuss what you want to be.

But be warned: being any of these subraces has both advantages and disadvantages.

Just so we’re clear on what you cannot be, however, here’s a list of absolute no-nos. I am leaving off things you obviously couldn’t be in any RP ever, since I don’t think I need to even point those out.

UNAVAILABLE:
- Gifted (Magical humans)
- Beastfolk
- Half-orcs
- Dark Elves

Remember, this group consists of ordinary tradesmen, barring the occasional elf or dwarf. If there is anything unordinary among them that would not be accepted into regular society, it would have to have some means of disguising itself perfectly.

Attributes (Stats)
You have 72 points to assign to your physical attribute statistics. DO NOT add on your Racial bonuses or subtract your Racial penalties, if you have any. I will do that myself.
Remember that NO STAT CAN GO ABOVE 18 OR BELOW 1.
Now, here are the explanations for what each stat does:

Strength – Strength determines how hard a character can hit, how much a character can carry, and how well they can lift heavy objects.

Endurance – Endurance determines a character’s hardiness. In addition to determining their general physical toughness\survivability, it also determines resilience to the elements and fatigue.

Perception – Perception determines a character’s ability to sense things in the world around him: it affects a character’s senses, such as sight, hearing, and taste, among other things. It influences how observant they are, how well they can detect another character’s reaction to them, detect a lie, and also detect physical things like traps and hidden enemies or objects.

Agility – Agility determines attack speed, accuracy with ranged weapons, reflexes, and to a small extent movement speed. It generally influences a character’s ability to move well in the world around him.

Charisma – Determines a character’s social skills, such as their ability to persuade, charm, or bluff. To a mild extent, it influences the character’s physical attractiveness. It also determines a character’s ability to lead and affects store prices and NPC reactions.

Intelligence – Intelligence is a character’s ability to reason and figure solutions to problematic situations. Intelligence determines a character’s ability to use certain types of magic spells and complex devices. It also determines a character’s ability to comprehend things such as foreign languages, determines whether or not they are literate (and if so to what extent), and is useful for a tactical character.
In order for your character to be literate, you must have an Intelligence of at least 10 (then your literacy will be determined by your background). If you have an Intelligence of 14 or over, you’ll be literate no matter what your background. In order for your character to speak in an intelligent and fully comprehensible fashion (in other words, “May I speak with you?” instead of “Me want talk to you head!”), your Intelligence must be at least 7.

Luck – Luck determines many random elements, such as how often critical hits are scored, how well a character can win at gambling, what quality of random items a character might find in a common container, and many other random outcomes to events. It can even, in some rare cases, factor into a NPC saving your character’s life or some other extraordinary event. In some cases, it will determine less random elements. Luck is not extremely important, but can be quite helpful if\when your other rolls fail.

Sign-up Sheet (Explanation)
The full sheet is at the bottom of the explanation for each piece. Please do not use the sheet with the explanations for the categories on it. Some of the categories will be skipped since they’re easy enough to know the nature of. For your hair and eye colors, go by your race’s standards.

Appearance (do NOT explain your armor appearance here; this is your physical appearance. Body and face both. Are you muscular, or are you a walking pile of muscle? Perhaps you are neither – are you fat, or skinny? This is also your facial features. Does your hooked nose give you a typically evil look, or your Imperial nose look regal? You can also say overall details. Is your face ugly or attractive? What does your beard look like, if you have one? Etc. And yes, pictures are fine, but please hyperlink to them instead of inserting them directly into your post.)

Height (How tall is your character? Be sure to be reasonable, especially within the limits of your race. A 7-foot-tall Imperial is just preposterous.)

Clothing/Armor (what does your character usually wear? NO magical equipment, and preferably no items made of rare metals such as Deepsilver, Deepgold, or Void Iron.)

Weapons (what weapons does your character carry? NO magical equipment, and preferably no items made of rare metals such as Deepsilver, Deepgold, or Void Iron.)

Accessories (flint, rope, whatever/etc. This is just personal items and personal accessories like jewelry or something that you keep on your person. What you carry will affect your character through various means, such as if you carry too much, you will be slowed down. Again, NO magical equipment.)

Personality (your character’s personality. Feel free to keep it simple, since we’ll all see what you’re like in the RP anyway.)

Bio (your character’s background. Feel free to be lengthy or short, but either way, make sure it isn’t so short that it looks like you put no thought or effort into it. Since I’m being pickier this time around, I’ll go ahead and say that you’ll get bonus points, so to speak, the better you incorporate your character into the lore and setting. References to canon historical events and canon characters are nice, although of course not necessary, and it’s always preferable that your character comes from a canon town/village/city/whatever instead of being nonspecific. Mostly what I’m looking for here is just a good character that fits snugly into the setting, so knowledge of the setting is very much required.)

Sign-up Sheet
Use this sign-up sheet when creating your character. Be sure to copy and paste FROM the codebox, but DO NOT copy and paste your sign up into another codebox. I’m doing this for your convenience, since I already have everything in bold and italics; it also makes it easier for me to read.

[b]Name:[/b] 
[b]Gender:[/b] 
[b]Race:[/b]
[b]Subrace:[/b] 
[b]Age:[/b]  

[b]Attributes[/b]
[I]Strength:[/I] 
[I]Perception:[/I] 
[I]Endurance:[/I] 
[I]Agility:[/I] 
[I]Charisma:[/I] 
[I]Intelligence:[/I] 
[I]Luck:[/I] 

[b]Height:[/b] 
[b]Eye Color:[/b] 
[b]Hair Color:[/b] 
[b]Appearance:[/b] 
[b]Clothing/Armor:[/b] 
[b]Weapons:[/b]   
[b]Accessories:[/b] 
[b]Personality:[/b]  
[b]Bio:[/b] 

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#2 Crispy

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Posted 25 March 2011 - 07:07 PM

Name: Cerdic Kelch
Gender: male
Race: Man
Subrace: Westerner
Age: 32

Attributes
Strength: 5
Perception: 15
Endurance: 10
Agility: 15
Charisma: 10
Intelligence: 10
Luck: 7

Height: 5'5"
Eye Color: Green
Hair Color: Black
Appearance: This
Clothing/Armor: Leather armor that fits his profession well and allows quick movement, iron shoulder pads. Sturdy leather cuirass and cloak.
Weapons: Two of these daggers and this bow.
Accessories: A coil of rope, a knapsack full of personal items and valuables.
Personality: Cerdic has a very quiet personality, but when he talks it's normally a wisecracking comment. He makes small talk as he fights; striking thoughtfully from the shadows of his mind and thinking tactically about every move. Many a person has wondered if he is sane, or just reclusive.
Bio: Cerdic was born out of whedlock and only was nurtured for his first four years of life before being left on the streets of Caltha. He was taken in by an elderly innkeeper and was fed by the man. Still enjoying a good amount of independence, he roamed the streets from age five, often witnessing gladitorial fights. As he slowly matured, he began to learn from these fights, taking mental notes on how one gladiator would attempt to drive the other back and how another would stab under his adversary's shield. He was taught by the innkeeper about 'dirty' fighting. As he grew up to the age of twenty, his mentor died, and realizing nothing was left for him in Caltha, he sold the inn, which he had inherited from the childless innkeep, and left the city with what money he'd earned.

Cerdic made his way across the land to the city of Deltalund, finding the roguish city out to be a place after his own heart. He took up the trades of theivery and the occasional caravan guard, gaining experience across his adventures. One caravan took him up north all the way to Bjornburg, where he stayed for several months before stealing a rather expensive item from a citizen of the town. Needing a way out of the city quickly, he found an imperial trading caravan, joining up with it in order to get back to the Empire and earn even more money along the way.


I don't know a lot about Wulfgard culture, and this was the best I could do.

Edited by Crispin F., 25 March 2011 - 08:46 PM.

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Sig es mucho gracias a Burngirl.


#3 Azoth

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Posted 25 March 2011 - 07:16 PM

Name: Erik Ironspear
Gender: Male
Race: Man
Subrace: Northerner
Age: 32

Attributes
Strength: 18
Perception: 8
Endurance: 18
Agility: 5
Charisma: 8
Intelligence: 8
Luck: 7

Height: 6'4"
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Blonde
Appearance: This.
Clothing/Armor: A chain hauberk with a metal helm, fur boots, leather bracers and a fur cloak.
Weapons: Erik wields a one-handed spear and wooden shield. A shortsword is belted at his waist.
Accessories: Erik has no accessories.
Personality: Headstrong and often cocky, Erik often gets into trouble through his lack of thinking before doing. He is independent but can work with others when the need arises. Due to his father's teachings, however, Erik has a good deal of patience.
Bio: Erik was born in Fishmonger Bay to a fisher for a father and without a mother. He grew up helping his father fish, teaching him the virtue of patience. Erik was naturally incredibly strong, the strongest of the youth, and rarely lost wrestling matches. This strength would help him later on, when a bear attacked his home. Erik, in his stupidity, attempted to kill the bear or at least chase it away with his bare hands. When he realized the animal far exceeded even his strength, Erik reached for his father's harpoon and killed the bear, granting his name "Ironspear." He left home at twenty to make a life of his own, and travelled the world doing various mercenary jobs for whoever hired him. He did that for twelve years, until he eventually ended up with renowned caravan master Andreas Chariton.

May update the bio a bit later to give it more detail, unless you think this is fine.

Edited by Azoth, 25 March 2011 - 10:09 PM.

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#4 Rickard the Bearded

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Posted 25 March 2011 - 07:41 PM

Name: Ezekial Lethial Goldthorn
Gender: Male
Race: Elf
Subrace: High Elf/Wood Elf
Age: Very old, even for an elf, possibly over a few thousand years old.

Attributes 23
Strength: 5
Perception: 10
Endurance: 10
Agility: 8
Charisma: 9
Intelligence: 18
Luck: 13

Height: 6'0
Eye Color: A very dull green, like leaves as they approach the end of autumn
Hair Color: Golden-blond, with many strands of silver among them.
Appearance: deviantart
Clothing/Armor: Simple traveler robes, coat and cloak, fastened with a brooch. They are worn and muddied from long periods of travel.
Weapons: A gnarled staff of blackened wood, carved from some unidentified tree. He also has a small scimitar with a eagle-headed hilt hanging by it's side, though it's clearly seen better days, as it's scabbard is tarnished and worn with age.
Accessories: A typical leather travelling sack, filled with several days worth of provisions. He also wears two rings, a sigil ring depicting a torn Oak's leaf, and a silver ring studded with two gems, a ruby and a sapphire. He dislikes talking about either, but never takes them off. He also wears two brass earrings.
Personality: He's a crotchety old buzzard, never hesitating to mouth off what he views as incompetence. While not bloodthirsty or battle hungry, when push comes to shove, he has a tendency to...Indulge himself.
Bio:

Edited by Richard, 26 March 2011 - 02:46 AM.

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#5 Horatius

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    I am smarter in the books

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Posted 25 March 2011 - 08:07 PM

Name: Maximus Mountainfist
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Subrace: Imperial
Age: 23

Attributes
Strength: 15
Perception: 9
Endurance: 12
Agility: 9
Charisma: 8
Intelligence: 14
Luck: 5

Height: 5'9"
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Light brown
Appearance: Maximus is a muscular man who carries himself with the confidence of a fighter, but the naivity of one who has never faced death before. His facial structure is a mix between typical Imperial and Northern looks, and his eyes shine with an eagerness to prove himself. His body is unscarred and young, albeit with some bruises that have not yet vanished.
Clothing/Armor: He wears weathered trousers and shirt, stained by the earth from his journey to Northrim. A gray traveler's cloak is often wrapped around his shoulders. His belt contains several pouches, but aside from these he travels plain.
Weapons: Maximus wields an Imperial Gladius and a round wooden shield.
Accessories: He has only a few coins, all obtained from his journey on the road, and a small iron disk with his name engraved upon. His father's address is inscripted across the back. In the event of his death, this disk may hopefully make it back to his father to bring finality to his son's absense.
Personality: Maximus Mountainfist is eager to prove his worth both to the world and to himself. He brings an inexperianced attitude to the group, but one that is willing to learn. His mind is sharp from careful instruction and constant challenge, and he is a trusting and loyal friend. He may in fact be too trusting for his own good on the hostile road to Northrim.
Bio: Maximus Mountainfist is the son of Deragoth Mountainfist, who was a mighty Northrim warrior turned gladiator. After winning his freedom in the local games, Deragoth settled down with an Imperial wife in Ilikon. Maximus must live up to his father's name and bring honor to the family. He has undergone training from Deragoth in armed and unarmed combat (naturally his fist can land a powerful blow). His father also decided that tactical training his necessary, and has hired ex-officers in the Imperial army to teach him. Maximus took to the training with great enthusiasm, and he longs to make his father proud. Since Deregoth originally set out from his clan with nothing but a sword and shield, he finds it appropriate that his son does the same. Maximus is now on his "coming-of-age" ceremony, as his father knows that only the real world can truly test one's skill. The young man considers himself and his family Imperial, but has more respect for "barbarians" than most Westerners. Maximus makes it his top priority to defend those he has pledged to protect, or simply those in need. Nothing angers him more than a sight of injustice, even if it comes from the Empire, and he fights wrongdoing whenever he can. This led him to fall in with two like-minded individuals, Aiden McCown and Viranna Soyare. Both are his closest friends who have his full trust and support.

Then out spake brave Horatius,

The Captain of the Gate:

"To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late.

And how can man die better

Than facing fearful odds,

For the ashes of his fathers,

And the temples of his gods."

 


#6 broons

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Posted 25 March 2011 - 08:37 PM

And yes, pictures are fine, but please hyperlink to them instead of inserting them directly into your post.)


All you people are idiots.

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#7 Sir Solitaire

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Posted 25 March 2011 - 09:24 PM

Name: Aidan McCown
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Subrace: Mixed-Imperial/Northerner
Age: 24

Attributes
Strength: 10
Perception: 13
Endurance: 9
Agility: 16
Charisma: 10
Intelligence: 12
Luck: 2

Height: 5’11”
Eye Color: Bright Blue
Hair Color: Black
Appearance: Facial. Tall, sinewy, and thin, Aiden looks more like a walking skeleton with muscles than the Northerners his is related to.
Clothing/Armor: Wears a shirt and baggy pants, old traveling boots. Beneath is leather armor, gauntlets on forearms, and shin guards. His also wears an old cloak that is browned and tattered like an ancient flag.
Weapons: A Southern weapon that he inherited from his father, and a arming sword. Also carries a buckler.
Accessories: A smaller dagger, a small bag that he always seems to keep close to himself.
Personality: While not the ‘life of the party,’ Aidan does talk to others, trying to see how much information he can get. He knows what to say to get his way and he often tries to keep a good number of contacts to help him in case. He personally enjoys thoughtful conversations, especially if it gives him a good idea of the other person’s personality.
Bio: Born in a border town of the Empire and Northrim. Aidan’s mother was Imperial, and his father a Northerner. That left him as the unfortunate mix of the two warring races. Smaller and lighter than his companions, Aidan found life annoying. However, he developed his agility and speed. He moved south with his mother at the age of 16 to learn the life of an Imperial. During his time there he learned swordsmanship, specifically sword and buckler from a sword master. After six years, Aidan went north again and learned the way of his people. That was how he ended up in Bjornburg and met the caravan. Ready to move on, Aidan signed up as a guide and guard, knowing the paths of the North.

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#8 El Taco

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Posted 25 March 2011 - 10:15 PM

Hah. For the longest time I too was planning a fantasy RP called Southbound. That was a while ago, but I still find it amusing. :P

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#9 Fire-fox

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Posted 25 March 2011 - 10:40 PM

Name: David Walsh
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Subrace: Imperial
Age: 31

Attributes 72
Strength: 11
Perception: 9
Endurance: 11
Agility: 12
Charisma: 10
Intelligence: 10
Luck: 6

Height: 6'1
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Straw-like blond
Appearance: David
Clothing/Armor: A green tunic with brown trousers and worn brown boots. Overtop of the tunic will sometimes be a full shirt of hard leather and bracers.
Weapons: A simple, but strong short sword and another short sword.
Accessories: A small leather pack of food and gold and a bedroll. On his hands are leather gloves, the right fingerless, and on his right hand is a ring. He has a small Swallow called Beak that accompanies him.
Personality: He's very prideful, but doesn't look down upon people. He's decently patient and friendly.
Bio: David was born in a lower-class town close to Illikon. He got a basic education and was taught basic skills to survive for life. He was recruited into the army to serve for a small crime when he was 19, though stayed there for a few years. He left the Imperial army and went north to search for his fortune. He learned many exotic skills from northerners and became a great craftsman and entertainer. Now a somewhat wealthy man, he is traveling to reach his home, settle down, and raise a family and hold a job that doesn't require much traveling.

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#10 Fenris

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Posted 25 March 2011 - 11:59 PM

Name: "I am Harald Ormtunge. Some Imperials call me Wyrmtongue."
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Subrace: Northerner (Tribe of the Bear)
Age: 44

Attributes 72
Strength: 13
Perception: 11
Endurance: 12
Agility: 12
Charisma: 9
Intelligence: 10
Luck: 5

Height: 6'3"
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Color: Brownish orange

Appearance: Haralds features are common amongst northerners. He is tall and of a reasonably broad build, and well muscled. His nose is large and hooked, his cheekbones are high, and his jaw and chin (although often conecaled by a beard) are both wide. There are no noteworthy scars, but his skin is pretty rugged. He's got a boxed beard that varies in length, depending on his urge to trim it. (This should give you a general idea, although the nose should be hooked.)

Clothing/Armor: The bowyer is well aware of the dangers one can encounter on the road, and he has therefore invested in a chainmail shirt, which he wears over his linen shirt. Over the chainmail (to protect him from the elements as much as to hide his armor) Harald wears a moss green wool tunic. His legs are covered by a pair of grey trousers and long leather boots.

Weapons: A skilled bowmaker and fletcher, Harald has much experience with the bow, and it is therefore his weapon of choice. His bow is 5 feet 3 inches and made of juniper. 15 crow-feathered arrows lie in his quiver, which he carries on his back when travelling. Swords are expensive weapons (unless you've claimed it from someone else), but axes are common and can be used for several purposes. Harald's father gave this axe to his son before he died. In addition to this hard-hitting weapon, the northerner also carries a seax, which is used both as a tool and as a weapon.

Accessories: Apart from his gold purse, tinderbox and waterskin, Harald keeps his personal supplies in his cart: a pair of blankets, two baskets of food (most of it dried or salted), and a book containing mostly work-related notes, but also a map of the route between Bjornburg and Illikon. But more importantly, the cart contains Harald's merchandise. 60 longbow staves of the finest yew lie in the cart, along with two barrels with roughly 400 arrow shafts.

Personality: Wyrmtongue takes pride in many things. His ancenstry, his craftsmanship and his moral to mention some. He's pretty intolerant when it comes to people stepping out of line, and believes justice should be served swiftly and preferrably with an arrow or two in the chest. Not to say that he is a cruel person, but muggers and murderers should all be dealt with in the same manner in his eyes. Harald's mood changes like the weather, due to his wife's premature death (see the bio). Sometimes he is depressive and aggressive, whilst at other times he is more calm and forthcoming. He does enjoy jokes, but rarely tells them himself.

Bio: Harald Ormtunge was born in a small farming community called Havrä, that lay between the village of Usipir and the Bjornburg (although most people believe him to be from the Wyrmtongue tribe, due to his name). His father, Ravn, was well respected and owned the most land in this small village, and Harald grew up to become a prestigeous young man. But instead of having an arranged marriage and taking over the farm, Harald became fascinated with the craftsmanship of the bow, to the brink of obsession. Archery was his favourite pasttime, and he often tried to make bows of his own as a teenager. Eventually, as the years passed by, it became more and more obvious that farming wasn't his call. Eventually he left his family and moved to the Bjornburg, where he became the apprentice of a bowmaker.

At the age of 26, Harald joined King Bjornar Bjornsson's warriors as an archer, and was part of a great skirmish on the Highland Tribal Lands, between the Dark Cliff tribe and the other tribes in the area. Harald returned victorious to the Bjornburg, and after a night of celebration he claimed his future wife, Helga. With the blessings of his father, Harald married the seamstress, and for 18 years they lived happily together, and Harald intended to grow old with his love. Unfortunately, fate would not have it so. One afternoon during springtime, a drunken warrior fresh from the battlefield stumbled across Helga, who was alone on an errand. The man attempted to force himself upon her, and in his drunkeness he strangled her to death in response to her resistance. An hour later, Harald arrived at the tavern in which the drunkard was hiding. Mad with rage, he snapped the half-concious man's neck, and later he hung him up outside the walls of the Bjornburg for the crows.

Without his wife, Harald had no longer any desire to remain in Bjornburg as a craftsman. A month later he decided to join the caravan of Andreas Chariton, knowing that his bows would be valuable further south. What he will do afterwards is uncertain. A glorious death may be all he desires.

Edited by Fenris, 11 April 2011 - 10:30 AM.


#11 Rickard the Bearded

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Posted 26 March 2011 - 02:45 AM

All you people are idiots.

Crap. Hadn't meant to do that.

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#12 broons

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Posted 26 March 2011 - 06:15 AM

Name: Nathan Fillonious
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Subrace: Westerner
Age: 28

Attributes
Strength: 11
Perception: 7
Endurance: 6
Agility: 8
Charisma: 8
Intelligence: 15
Luck: 17

Height: 6'2"
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Brown.
Appearance: This.
Clothing/Armor: Nathan wears a chain link haubergeon, with a brown shirt over it. He wears a helmet, and leather boots. On his legs he wears tan pants. He carries a pack on his back, and wears a green wool cloak, when he needs it (for warmth or dryness).
Weapons: Nathan is armed with a sword, and carries a dirk with him. He defends himself with a wooden shield.
Accessories: Nathan carries a whetstone, rope, rations, and his money in his pack. Other than the aforementioned, he does not own much in the world.
Personality: Nathan is extremely lucky. He is also very easygoing, and does not enjoy starting fights. He is very protective, and once hired will not betray whoever hired him until his term is up, or he is not given pay.
Bio: Nathan was born in a small Imperial town, and fled at a young age, taking to the streets of the closest city. There he fell in with a group of scavenging city boys, but due to his farmland upbringing, he was stronger and more fit than them. He quickly became their unofficial leader, and they stole and begged what they could. During this time he learned how to brawl; his unarmed fighting is by no means elegant, but it gets the job done.
Nathan lived on the streets for years, until he heard of a caravan that needed protection, and was offering armor, weapons, and money to whoever would help. He took up the offer, and found himself having a passing skill with a sword. He has trained this skill, and is now the equivalent of a trained Imperial guardsman in the art of swordplay. He fell in with Andreas three years later, and had by then added a dirk to his weapons collection, and could use it well. He proved his worth to the man, and has traveled with him since.

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#13 Lightning Bolt

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Posted 26 March 2011 - 09:39 AM

Name: Lady Lilishores
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Subrace: Northerner
Age: 23

Attributes
Strength: 7
Perception: 14
Endurance: 8
Agility: 12
Charisma: 11
Intelligence: 10
Luck: 10

Height: 5'6"
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Dark brown (often appears black)
Appearance: Lady Lilishores
Clothing/Armor: The Lady has several sets of clothing, dark pants and shirts, and colorful dresses, though she wears those less often. She has a couple shawls and traveling cloaks. She has a pair of trusted walking boots, covered in dirt and wear.
Her armor is leather, with layers of chainmail underneath, and consists of body armor, arm cuffs and leggings.
Weapons: This dagger hidden somewhere on her person and this scimitar hangs at her side, or can be be pulled up to her back.
Accessories: A beautiful green Jade-stone that belonged to her husband hangs around her neck, hidden behind her articles of clothing. Several bags with her clothing, armor, rations, water and whetstone, carried on her gray pack mule Clyde. She herself rides a well-bred white mare, named Rarity Dare.
Personality: The Lady is noble and proud ("high and mighty," or "upity" might better suit her, in the eyes of some), choosing to be in the company of gentlemen, over gritty adventurers.
Bio: Lilishores is the daughter of a cheif of a village in the Northrim near Blekmyr Marsh. Lily married a half-Northerner warrior from Illikon two years ago. Soon afterwards, the man she loved fled. She found out from her father that he had been bitten by a lycanthrope of some kind (a werebear, she was told, though none are certain), and the men from the village had tried to kill him after his first transformation.
Though her father tried to convince her that bites decayed the minds of those who were infected - and his love for her would be gone, and he may be dangerous to her - Lily set out to find her husband. Travelling from town to town in the North, she finally found a caravan to travel with, to the larger cities, and eventually the Empire, where she was sure her husband would eventually travel to, as it was his homeland.

#14 Sareth

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Posted 26 March 2011 - 09:52 AM

Name: Dav'ess Beldrynar
Gender: Male
Race: Elf
Subrace: Shadow Elf
Age: 36

Attributes
Strength: 15
Perception: 10
Endurance: 15
Agility: 14
Charisma: 1
Intelligence: 14
Luck: 3

Height: 5' 10''
Eye Color: Pale gray.
Hair Color: Black with dark blue streaks.
Appearance: His body is lean and muscular with numerous scars, including lash marks, that show he has not had an easy life. Due to the large amount of time he has spent in the sun, his skin is quite tanned for one of his kind, though it is still somewhat pale by human standards. His blue-black streaked hair hangs to about 2 inches above his shoulder. His face is somewhat thin with an angular jaw, and an overall appearance that could be called 'predatory'. He has a small tattoo in blue ink on his right cheek, and a thin scar on his left cheek along his jaw.
Clothing/Armor: He wears a black leather hooded vest under a sleeveless shirt of chainmail, which is covered by a black tabard. He also wears blackened steel vambraces and greaves, as well as chaimail backed fingerless leather gloves. In addition, he wears black pants, black leather boots, and a black leather belt with a steel buckle.
Weapons: He carries a hand-and-a-half sword, and a falcata. He also carries a weighted throwing chain.
Accessories: He has a small cloth pack containing general survival gear such as food, water, rope, flint and tinder, and sharpening stones. He also wears a silver chain necklace.
Personality: He doesn't speak much, and even then usually only in short sentences. As a result of his experiences, he bears an intense hatred of slavers and slave owners, as well as thieves and all others who prey on the weak, and he has a rather disturbing love of battle. He does not seek out fights, but if forced to fight he will do so with unimaginable glee and savagery. Outside of battle however, he seems a normal well adjusted person, with little hint of the darkness within him. One would never even suspect the extreme violence he is capable of unless they actually saw him fight.
Bio: One day when he was 10, he had wandered far from his home deep in the forest of Springwood, and had the misfortune to be discovered by a band of human slavers. Despite an attempt to flee, he was caught and taken far from his forest home. At first, he expected that his parents would rescue him, but as time went on with no sight of them his foiled expectations turned into anger at their abandonment of him. He was dragged around by the band for years, until he was finally sold to a rich Imperial at the age of 15. The Man was not kind, and whipped Dav'ess harshly and often, and often with little or no reason. After a while, Dav'ess' submission was replaced with anger, and with each whipping he only grew angrier and more rebellious, though the Man remained convinced he could be tamed. One night when Dav'ess was 17, this conflict finally came to a head. After yet another undeserved whipping, one stroke of which cut his face nearly to the bone -leaving the scar on his jaw-, he snapped and punched his master in the face, breaking his nose. Infuriated, the Man ordered his men to execute Dav'ess. In fear for his life, and overcome by rage, Dav'ess unconsciously drew upon his shadow magic affinity, forming tentacles of pure shadow which seized the Man and tore him limb from limb. He was then able to escape the Man's horrified servants and ran for his life.

He spent the next years of his life taking most any job he could find, and fearful of being sought after for the Man's murder, spent any money he didn't need to survive on training in the use of weapons. During these years, he spent any free time he had working on mastering his shadow magic and discovering/developing new techniques with it. When he was 34, he traveled back to his home in Springwood, seeking to confront his parents over abandoning him. He was shocked to find only his mother, and his father's grave. His mother told him that she and his father had set out after the slavers as soon as they learned what had happened. However, being unaccustomed to the land outside the forest, they lost the trail often and didn't catch up with the band until years later, after Dav'ess had already been sold. They attacked the slavers demanding the return of their son, but were outnumbered and were driven off, with Dav'ess' father being mortally wounded in the fight. As they fled one of the slavers cruelly mocked them claiming that their son was already dead. With her husband dead, and believing her son to be so, his mother had nothing left but to return home. Hearing this story, Dav'ess was struck by grief and shame. Despite his mother's pleas for him to stay, he decided to leave home and roam the land more, being unable to deal with having been the cause of his father's death while resenting him for imagined abandonment, and still trying to deal with his own inner darkness. However, he promised his mother that he would return home someday, and she gave him his father's necklace to remind him of this. Dav'ess left home and roamed randomly for a time, until he heard of a caravan in need of protection and, looking for a more steady job, offered his services as an expert swordsman. He has been a member of Andreas' group for six months now, and has come to respect the man.

Edited by Sareth, 07 May 2011 - 02:07 AM.

"This means I will not have to regret sending back their envoy short a few limbs."

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#15 Rickard the Bearded

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Posted 26 March 2011 - 10:39 AM

EDIT: Any chance Scorp will be doing illustrations for this RP?

Well, I might. :V

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#16 Absoul The Reindeer

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Posted 26 March 2011 - 02:41 PM

Name: Aldrich Pine
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Subrace: Westener
Age: 39

Attributes
Strength: 15
Perception: 11
Endurance: 12
Agility: 9
Charisma: 12
Intelligence: 12
Luck: 1

Height: Five foot nine

Eye Color: A shade of browny green

Hair Color: Brown

Appearance: Aldrich is tall and muscular, due to his job, but he is often to busy to shave or clean. As such, his hair and beard are long and unkempt, and his face blackened and dusty. One of his fingers is bent awkwardly, as if it had been broken and not properly healed.

Clothing/Armor: Brown leather boots and grimy grey trousers cover his large legs. A filthy grey short sleeved wool shirt covers his chest and back, and he wears an red leather apron on top of that.

Weapons: A stone mallet with a wooden handle for defense, a larger hammer for forging.

Accessories: A necklace rimmed with various metals. A single scrap no larger than a little finger's nail of Deepgold adorns the front of the necklace.
His wagon is drawn by trusty steed Maggie, and contains a box of horseshoes, a box of pins, a weapon rack with several maces and spears, a bundle of shields and a large chest containing a sword, shield and a chestplate complete with shield and sword straps.

Personality: Aldrich is a quiet and calm person, but extremely good at making friends. Years working as a blacksmith's apprentice, then a blacksmith, meant that Aldrich gets his share of gossip from locals coming to have metalwork done.

Bio: Aldrich was born and raised in Bjornburg by his father, who was an Imperial. At age twelve, he went to work with his father to the local blacksmiths, where he learned the trade from his father and his boss. When Aldrich was sixteen, a dwarven worker named Gilla went back to his clan, leaving a vacancy. Aldrich took the spot. At aged twenty, Aldrich and his father were attacked returning home. His father was injured, but survived after Aldrich drove off the mugger. Unfortunately, the mugger sought revenge on Aldrich and his father, and attacked them again a week later, with several of his friends. They quickly overwhelmed Aldrich. When he awoke, blood was pouring from his broken finger, and his father lay dead against a barrel of rainwater. Aldrich was promoted again to to the death of his father, but that did not please him. He quit the blacksmith and started his own, naming it The Black Pine after his father. He was tasked by a wealthy Imperial to craft and deliver a sword, chestplate and shield for his son. He heard of the caravan and quickly joined up, not wishing to trek back to the land of his ancestors alone.

#17 Mercutio

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Posted 26 March 2011 - 03:40 PM

Okay, hear me out, because as soon as you see what I'm going to do you'll probably sigh and roll your eyes. But here's my pitch for a pair of Deep Dwarf brothers. If you don't want pairs (especially of dwarves, since there are limited spots) I entirely understand and can alter the character/s accordingly.

Posted Image
Askold and Vasmer


Name: Vasmer Deepdweller
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Subrace: Deep Dwarf
Age: 170

Attributes
Strength: 17
Perception: 10
Endurance: 17
Agility: 5
Charisma: 4
Intelligence: 10
Luck: 9

Height: 4'4"
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Color: Black
Appearance: Tall, especially so for a Deep Dwarf such as he, with a mightily built body that speaks of a warrior's bloodline; impressed upon his skin are a web of scars, especially over his stocky hands and forearms. His face is perfectly circular, with a prominent nose, bulbous and protruding over an impressively groomed jet black beard. His mouth is barely visible, most likely missed were it not for the gruesome pink mass of scar tissue that runs over the left of his lips. His eyes are grey beads, hidden behind a deeply furrowed brow. His hair is as black as his beard, pulled back into a mass of plaits and braids that are bundled together and reach to his shoulders.
Clothing/Armor: Vasmer wears simple clothing, thick cloth trousers and a short sleeved shirt, both of matching brown. Far more prominent is his impressive suit of crafted armour, interlocking scale mail with gleaming deepsilver accents. Underneath is a shirt of chain which covers his exposed skin, partially for protection and partially due to his passionate aversion to the sun. Thick articulated gauntlets cover his hands, and his trademark cylinder helmet shields his face, designed with even rarer deepgold highlights around the eye and mouth slits.
Weapons: For such a powerful warrior, there must be an equally powerful weapon; so it was that Vasmer was bequeathed the great warhammer Knyaz. The hammer's head reaches perhaps to his neck, with a solid oaken handle - a rarity in the tunnels he called home - and is engraved with ancient runic markings for luck and strength. Rumor has it that the hammer was soaked in goblin blood to cool it after it was forged, and which gave the hammer it's slightly off-silver tinge. He also carries a small circular buckler which is attached to his leading arm, enough to turn a blow or two in the heat of battle.
Accessories: On his person Vasmer carries staple foods and drink for the road, a collection of rings, a small splinter of void iron from his home tunnels, a cleaning cloth for his hammer, an undetermined fur worn over his armour to keep off the Northern winds and a sizeable amount of gold.
Personality: Vasmer believes in the stolidness of mind and body; silence except when required, which in his case is not often, and a calm head no matter what the circumstances. He can speak eloquently on topics of his interest - battle, mining, gems and jewels, traditions of the tunnels - but considers any other conversation not worth his time. This translates into an introverted nature, but should not be mistaken for submission; Vasmer holds his values dear to his heart, especially the traditions of the Deep Dwarves, and is quick to defend his honour against insults, real or imagined. He is slow to anger, but when pushed to the limit he will explode with fury. Few can withstand his wrath in these states. He is fiercely protective of his brother and considers him reliant on his aid, which also makes him quick to his side even when not required.

Name: Askold Deepdweller
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Subrace: Deep Dwarf
Age: 137

Attributes
Strength:
Perception: 13
Endurance: 8
Agility: 17
Charisma: 16
Intelligence: 10
Luck: 7

Height: 3'11"
Eye Color: Grey-blue
Hair Color: Grey
Appearance: Around middling height for a Deep Dwarf, with the tell tale broad shoulders and muscular build that nearly all of the tunnel folk possess. Askold was always faster and more flexible than his comrades, quick with both wit and the blade, and despite his stocky appearance he is lithe, a master of navigating the tunnels and crevices of their home. He has a small, oval face, with a flat, wide nose and lips, his beard a mass of grey hairs, perfectly seperated into dozens of braids that are decorated with various gemstones and runic charms. Aside from a few stray scars - and several large burns, marks of the forge - his skin is tough but untarnished. His eyes are round baubles set into the stony calm of his face, and his hair is pulled back tight into a simple ponytail which runs down his neck.
Clothing/Armor: Askold dresses sensibly for the cold, with a thick padded shirt, striped canvas pants and heavy leather walking boots. His armour is mostly mail, forged in the tunnels of his home. Although it lacks the flair of other armour, it is of fine construction and allows him the movement he so desires while in battle, as heavier scale or plate would only restrict him. It is secured around his shoulders with a lamellar neck piece to stop blows to his throat, although the mail coif reaches up to his nose, so as to hide it from the harsh rays of the sun. His helmet, of conical design with a wide nose guard and several runic inscriptions, is simple yet gives good peripheral vision while on the march or fighting.
Weapons: Unusually for a Dwarf, Askold is a master of the blade. His personal sword was forged by his own hands, and as is the Dwarven tradition he was to christen it as well. It is known as Strachkvas, and despite derision by his comrades, it proved to be the perfect weapon for the confines of the tunnels, where it could stab and slash with equal ease. It is much like the Imperial style short sword, improved upon by the knowledge of the Dwarven smiths. He also carries a small hand-ax, for fear of being disarmed or otherwise unable to wield his sword.
Accessories: Strapped across Askold's back is his broad wooden shield, which has saved his tough hide on more than one occasion. He also carries a selection of gemstones, food and drink, flint, a small amount of gold, wax and other cleaning materials as well as a comb and mirror
Personality: Askold is easy to relate to, and is a conversationalist of no small repute, unusual for a Deep Dwarf. He is typically more diplomatic, open to suggestion and interested in the ways of other races. He is a quick thinker, which coupled with his good humor makes for sharp wit and fast retorts. Few can claim to be angered by Askold in any way. He is proud to be a Deep Dwarf, and is the first to correct misgivings any may have about them, yet like his brother is not slow to the blade if the misgivings take turn to insults. He respects his brother immensely, although sometimes feels constrained by his need to protect him in situations he could control. He considers family to be the greatest treasure, and his usually friendly demeanour will disappear if confronted by abuse or disrespect of the family unit, whoever they may be.

Biographies: [Forgive the length. I wrote this in the tone of a sort of 'Dwarven epic', a ballad that would be retold generations later]
Born in the tunnels deep below the Dvaergarn Gate, deeper than the mountain-folk mine or the men dare to tread, Vasmer the elder and Askold the younger were both additions to the powerful Deepdweller line. Their lineage was legendary, with some of the clerics tracing them back to the very beginnings of the Deep Dwarves' settlements in the dark mountains. Their father, Vamli Deepdweller was the chieftain and clan leader, holding one of the few positions of power among the Deep Dwarves political system. As it was based on respect, Vamli's word was law, his decisions final and his advice to be taken. That was the way of the Deep Dwarves, and especially of the Deepdwellers. It was high treason to consider any other way. Although the Deep Dwarves are typically miners, covetous of the rare metals and gems they find in inky blackness, they are also under constant threat from the beasts that lurk the deep below. Thus every man is a warrior and a miner, a protector of the settlement first and a finder of riches second. Goblin incursions were common but easily defeated by the prowess of the Dwarven militias, as well as their impressive weaponry. Vasmer especially was considered one of the greatest warriors the Deepdweller line had yet seen, and was appointed chief of the militia at the young age of 101 years. His brother, a natural at scouting out and outsmarting the faster goblins, joined not long after.

The chief of the militia was fourth in authority, after the head cleric, master forger and of course the chieftain. Vasmer wielded this authority justly, expanding the borders of their tunnels to ensure no goblins slipped through the defences. It was during one of these expansions that the militia happened upon a momentous discovery - a pure, untouched vein of deepgold waiting to be mined. Vamli was ecstatic, immediately ordering a full scale mining operation to harvest the rare mineral. It was a time of celebration for the Deepdweller clan, yet Askold was wary and alone tracked through the lesser known tunnels, finding increasing evidence of goblin movement. Eventually he came across a discovery as terrible as the deepgold was good; a massive host of goblins gathering to attack and eliminate the Deepdweller settlement once and for all. He brought his findings to his brother, who in turn appealed to the good judgement of his father. If they launched an offensive now, they could catch the goblins by surprise. They would have to collapse the tunnels behind them, leaving the deepgold unmined, but it would be for the good of all. Vamli was incensed with the idea of leaving the deepgold behind. The head cleric, Bramling, sided with Vasmer, while the master forger, Ostrom, sided with Vamli. The chieftain forbid any offensives that would disturb the mining of the deepgold. It seemed the matter was sealed, yet Vasmer could not allow such a flagrant disregard for the safety of the settlement. He sent Askold among the warriors of the village; many agreed that the goblins had to be stopped. With Bramling, they plotted the secret expedition to destroy the goblins.

Thus the tapestry of fate began to weave itself. Vasmer, Askold, Bramling and a militia of thirty two able bodied Dwarves set out while the others rested, through to the darkness where the goblins resided. The two sides joined battle; it was a hard, bloody fight, with nineteen Dwarves lost in the tunnel fighting. Yet they were victorious; Vasmer himself took twenty nine goblin scalps and Askold thirteen. The goblin host was destroyed. They trekked back through the tunnels, solemnly collapsing them behind them - leaving the deepgold in the darkness where it belonged. Yet when they returned to the village not to celebrations but to another confrontation. Vamli had rallied what Dwarves were loyal to him, including Ostrom and the other miners unwilling to part with the deepgold. He accused his sons of treason, delirious with a gold fever, fiendish in his orders to have them killed. Ostrom was the first to draw blood, striking Bramling in the throat with an arrow. He died leaving two shortbeards. Vasmer and Askold, with what remained of their loyal warriors, were forced to fight. Ostrom fell to the blade of Askold, while Vasmer fought viciously with Vamli. Vasmer tried to offer quarter but Vamli resisted; he died still yearning for the deepgold he would never have.

The battle was over the the forces of Vasmer and Askold were victorious once more. Yet Bramling had fallen, and with the rest of the leadership decimated it would be an age before the Deepdweller settlement ever recovered. Bramling's eldest shortbeard was declared chieftain by Vasmer, who, with Askold, made the decision to leave the settlement for good. Having stained his hammer with the blood of his father he could not bear to stay. Finally, Askold declared that none but he and his brother would bear the name of Deepdweller, for it had fallen with Vamli; Deepdweller among the dwarves would be a mark of shame that they would willingly bear. They walked to the surface, never to be seen again in their home tunnels. Rumor from the hill dwarves, whose news sometimes spread as deep as the tunnels, say they now travel with caravans as guards and warriors, earth walkers that still respect the old ways of the deep.

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#18 Golden-Star

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Posted 26 March 2011 - 04:38 PM

Name: Felagir
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Subrace: Sea Dwarf (please :wub: )
Age: 56

Attributes
Strength: 12
Perception: 10
Endurance: 11
Agility: 10
Charisma: 9
Intelligence: 10
Luck: 10

Height: (tall for a Dwarf but about average for a Sea Dwarf)
Eye Color: Bluey-Grey
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Appearance: Felagir has a well-worn appearance from his time at sea and is well-muscled, although not as much as a common Hill or Mountain Dwarf. His beard is long for his (relatively) small age and is plaited all the way down and secured by his belt. His facial features still show his youth, however, and only a few scars show themselves on his visage.
Clothing/Armor: Felagir wears a light chainmail top covered by articulated leather plates (a bit like Roman Legionnary armour but in leather). He also wears a large fur cape that keeps him warm during the harsh Northrim winters as well as leather greaves, vambraces and helmet.
Weapons: Felagir carries the large axe typical of his race for when close-combat is neccessary, but prefers to use his small bow or his throwing axes to smite enemies from afar.
Accessories: Felagir has little in the area of personal effects apart from a medallion given to him by his father and a small purse of coins.
Personality: Felagir has a much more open stance than most dwarves but still shares some of the close-mindedness of his kin. An outcast himself, he has no hate for curious figures merely by appearance, and his wide travels have made him very tolerant of different races. He is still stuborn, however, and is not one to back down when he feels his honour is at stake.
Bio: Felagir found very young that travelling the sea could not fullfill his want for exploration, and he found himself annoyed with the lack of freedom boats provide. He originally only planned to travel for a few years but he has spent over fifteen years on land and has found himself a free-ranging mercenary, hunting down Werewolves and other dangerous beasts for money. He has mostly stayed in Northrim but is using this caravan trip as an excuse to travel further south. He has accepted to help protect the merchants and travellers for a small price and hopes to make enough money to make it to the Southern deserts.

EDIT: I really want to get in this so could you give me a few pointers where I go wrong.
EDIT EDIT: Felagir stage 1, 2, 3, 4

Edited by Golden-Star, 26 March 2011 - 08:17 PM.

~ Golden-Star

 


#19 Harry Monster Princess

Harry Monster Princess

    Not mad. Just disappointed.

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Posted 27 March 2011 - 02:34 AM

Name: Alys (Pronounced like "Alice.")

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Subrace: Imperial

Age: 20

Attributes
Strength: 4
Perception: 18
Endurance: 10
Agility: 18
Charisma: 7
Intelligence: 9
Luck: 6

Height: 5 feet 1 inch.

Eye Color: A dark, deep, sad blue.

Hair Color: Dirty Blonde.

Appearance: Alys in the Moonlight.

Clothing/Armor: All of Alys' clothing is made of cloth, except her soft leather bodice.

Weapons: This simple dagger Alys uses for self-defense, and nothing more. She stores the dagger in her right boot, simply because she has no where else to store it.

Accessories: A palm-sized, smooth stone with Alys's name engraved on it in scrawling letters. The only personal possession she came with when Alys was found on the steps of the orphanage.

Personality: Alys is extremely shy and timid around others, and is very reluctant to place trust in others, as the majority of all people she have met have let her down or abused her. If you do manage do get her to speak, Alys is very quiet and often has a bad stutter, and she has some substantial self-esteem issues.

Bio: Alys does not know where she was born, or who her parents were. All she knows about her past is what the mistresses told her in the Orphanage; that they found her in a swath of rags on the doorsteps, nothing more than a newborn. The only thing she had with her was a small smooth rock with the name "Alys" carved on it in clumsy writing. So that's the name she was given.

Growing up in the Orphanage of Woodshadow Village, Alys never really fit in and the other children would always torment her and estrange her from the group. This constant bullying made Alys very anti-social and perpetually depressed, and things only got worse as she got older.

When she turned 14, a new part of Alys revealed itself for the first time under the full moon on one dreadful Hallow's Eve. She transformed for the first time under the moonlight into a werewolf, and went on a rampage through the town, killing a baker's dozen of people. When she awoke on the morn of the next day, alone, nude, and cold, she was horrified to discover her arms and face caked in the blood and entrails of victims, and her teeth stained bloody red. Plus she had a zit.

Her lycanthropy remained undiscovered for a couple years, but soon the villagers grew wise of her condition, and they ran her out of town... and a couple miles further. With no where to go, Alys wandered from place to place, doing little odd jobs and occasionally pick-pocketing to get enough money to pay for her next meal or a place to sleep. Eventually, she wandered her way to Northrim, where fortune frowned upon her again.

Walking around the peaceful Northern town, by pure chance Alys encountered a pair of cruel Monster Hunters. A few months ago in a different town, Alys' lycanthropy had been discovered by the Hunters, and they had chased her and tried to kill her, but she had managed to escape. They immediately recognized the scared little girl with the curse, and again they attacked without hesitation.

Alys fled, and found refuge by hiding in a crate on a cart that was part of a caravan. The Monster Hunters luckily gave up their search for the werewolf, and assumed she had run off again. Too afraid to come out for fear of being spotted by the hunters, Alys hid in the crate for quite a long time. Then the caravan set off on it's journey with Alys hiding away in it. Now she's observing what's happening through a crack in the crate. Alys doesn't care where the caravan is going, she's just scared about what's going to happen to her when she's discovered stowing away...

Edited by Harry Monster, 07 May 2011 - 01:29 AM.

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#20 Wiffleball

Wiffleball

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Posted 27 March 2011 - 03:15 AM

Name: Nathan Fillonious


You're not even trying to be subtle, are you? :P

I'm thinking out a character, by the way.




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