26 replies to this topic

[Siderealmidnight]

Spoiler

Minus the eyepatch.

Name: Erin Vogel
Race: Lycan
Age: 51
Sex: He
 
Backstory: Erin grew up on stories of the Crimson Century told by the oldest of those living in rubble or hiding in a cave in woods just barely hosting new life even decades later. People told him that peace had come, that the war between the races had ended, that it was time to rebuild. But Erin never saw the end they were talking about, villages still burned, everyone hated and mistrusted anyone who might end up in the bread line before they did, and people he cared about still died. The Crimson Century may have ended, but by the time he was considered an adult Erin had seen more than his fair share of brutality, hatred, abuse, and domination of the weak by the strong. He had grown up a war orphan, his parents dying in some blood feud several years after he was born the way he heard it when some of his relatives still lived, and as he prospered by doing whatever it took to survive he saw others, humans, vampires, and lycans alike suffer at the hands of circumstances beyond their control. As a young man looting the dead men he had once fought beside Erin had a plan. It took him fifteen years to accumulate enough money, but eventually Erin bought a tenament house and transformed it into an orphanage for those who had lost their families somewhere in the course of "political disputes" between one race and another. He made sure to let it be known as far as rumors would carry that he would accept those of any race so long as they made no trouble with each other once inside his home.

 

Of course, that did not mean that others would not try to cause trouble for him, and since its founding several years ago Erin has fought tooth and nail, sometimes literally, to keep the children in his care safe. At times this meant facing down an armed mob alone, and at other times it meant hiring his services as a bodyguard or street rough to make sure the kids had enough to eat (and in some cases blood to drink). In recent years some of the older children have gone out to work so they could by food and educational materials for the younger ones. Erin was thankful for it, as being a hero was a hard role to play and brought with it many more scars than he had imagined as a youth who had been far too naive for the world he lived in. Still, Erin was not blind. He had been through too much bloodshed not to be able to smell it on the wind, and even a world like this could still use a hero.

Stats-55
Strength – 10
Agility – 21
Endurance – 10
Dexterity – 18
Willpower – 14
 

Skills

Transformation: Aspect of the Bat [30]- Erin chooses to enter only partially into his bat form, gaining bat-like ears and a vocal apparatus capable of emitting both hyper and subsonic sounds for the purposes of echolocation and Resonance (see below), but minimal physical enhancements (Dex+6, Agi+9)
 

Overdrive: Resonance [10]- Erin can tag an object or person he is touching, causing it to release a sound of a unique pitch he can hear. Erin starts with one tag and gains another per 10 points in this skill. Tag can be cancelled at will by Erin and have a range of about 300 ft before fading. 

Sightless Vision - Erin can hear any tagged object or person with his echolocation, knowing their precise location so long as they are within range. 

          Cascade - If a tagged person goes near a tagged object, a discordant sound rips through them, reducing agility and dexterity.

 

Inventory:

A pair of polished steel knuckles

A coat with a multitude of pockets

A pair of throwing knives

Edited by Siderealmidnight, 19 February 2015 - 12:15 AM.

[Officer Judy Hopps]

Spoiler

Human:

Transformed:

Name: Laika
Race: Lycan
Age: 27
Sex: Female

Backstory: Laika was a name that she was given, yet it was the only one she had ever known. Gifted to her by vampiric slaves on her being bought by another, she was subjected to the cruelty of monstrous immortals for many years unto even her teenage days. Conscripted as a guardian for the coffins of her bloodthirsty overlords, it was the only life she knew, standing in the ominous silence of a mausoleum as the sun peeked through the cracks of windows.

That was until her Lord, believing that she alone was not enough, bought a second pet.

This one was different, with a remarkable will and force about her that Laika could only seem to absorb it, adopting a ferocity of her own until a moment opened the door of opportunity for her. In a day light's moment, she and her compatriot escaped! Leaving their sorrows behind and stepping into the daylight! It did not take long however, for the two to be noticed by the other tribes of Lycan, and were quickly absorbed into one to prevent their recapture.

On a thieving mission into the city however, Laika suffered an initially unfortunate fate. She and her friend were caught in their thieving acts, and instead of letting them both be captured, she sacrificed herself to buy time for her friend's escape. With her desperation, she was met with success as she seemed to have evaded their captors, but she instead was knocked unconscious and dragged into slavery once more. This time however, she was introduced to a young vampire named Lune, a literal princess of the court.

She was to be her caretaker and protector.

Though she fought against it at first, Laika eventually found herself charmed by the younger one, and instead of being met with cruelty, she was met with kindness and warmth. Not long after, through protecting her newfound fuzzy friend, Lune earned Laika's undying loyalty.

Stats (5 is average for a human)

Total: 85
Strength – 24 (38) (56 OD)
Agility – 32 (39)
Endurance – 10
Dexterity – 10
Willpower -- 9

Skills:

Total: 50
Transformation! - 41 Points - Laika assumes her true monstrous form. In this state her Strength increases by 14 and her Speed by 7. Turning her into a literal whirlwind of claws and Teeth.

Overdrive - 9 Points - Mindless Fury. Laika assumes the truest madness of the feral monstrosity within. She sacrifices her will to add double the Value to her Strength.

Inventory:
Dagger X2 - Sheathed on outer Thighs.
Compound Bow X2
Quiver of Arrows - 10 count.

Edited by The Hawk's Eye, 19 February 2015 - 04:15 AM.

[Inumori]

Doctor Wrenhaven.

 

 

Spoiler

 

Name: Victor Wrenhaven
Race: Human
Age: 29
Sex: Male
 
Backstory: "I am and have always been a man of God, but I am no Crusader. Miracles come in all forms my friends and we must learn to fight without God's grace. We must learn to use what He gave us. I will find the power hidden in our blood. The power that fuels the eternal demons. The power that allowed some distant ancestor to bind the beast to their very being. God gave us the answer to their troubles and our own. It's in the blood. And I will not rest until the day I find it."

 

Raised the son of a surgeon and a rather devout nurse, Victor grew up with a strong appreciation for life, death, and God, and he took to the family practice very quickly. When he could no longer learn about his doctoral craft at home, he went to the Guild. A place where God and medicine were said to mingle. It didn't turn out to be quite as he expected, but it was the Blood Alchemy being researched that interested him then, and he's been a member ever since.

 

Victor has never looked upon the other races with particular animosity. A curious trait for someone of the religious bend, but that's not the way he sees it. Victor is a man who can look at things without the veil of emotion or morality without losing sight of either, an important trait some would say, and a large reason he was recommended to the Guild when he sought them out. The Church fears he might simply be mad, but if he isn't, then he's a man of faith and of reason at once. Someone who actively seeks to bridge the gap between Crusader and Alchemist - and between human and otherwise - is a boon to be sure. 
 
Stats
Strength – 5
Agility – 6
Endurance – 7
Dexterity – 7
Willpower – 5

 

Lifeblood. [50] - Victor can animate his blood into a simple living thing. It's shape is fluid and variable with a gelatinous structure, but it can sense and react to danger and reacts to basic commands from it's creator. Its max stats are based on skill (10% Skill Rank). It's size is determined by the quantity of blood used/consumed. This creature will instinctively follow Victor and will act to defend him if not given commands.

 

    Metabolism. - The Lifeblood entity can self-replicate the blood used in its creation by digesting organic material. To this end it generates an acidic compound internally, the potency of which is skill-determined. The acid is not intended for offensive use, but may be used as such if Lifeblood is ordered to digest a target. In this instance it will attempt to engulf the target and pump acid inward.

 

    Poultice. - The Lifeblood entity may be commanded to restore a target. The process involves sticking itself to the wound and sacrificing a measure of itself to mend flesh. This effect can only be used on surface wounds or injuries where Victor's medical expertise can be used to guide or in conjunction with the process.

 

 

Inventory:

 

High-quality garb. - Comfortable enough to travel in, elegant enough to be seen in.

 

Leather Trench Coat. - A must for traveling in the region. Allows Victor to walk around without showing off everything he's got under it.

 

Stethoscope. - Kept either around his neck or tucked away in his trench.

 

Chest Bandolier. - It carries sixteen phials.

 

Prepared Blood. - Sixteen phials on their convenient bandolier.

 

Belt Pouches x3. - These three pouches are on the right side of his belt and carry foodstuffs like jerky and trail mix. Mostly to keep Lifeblood fed.

 

Leg Satchel, Left. - Victor keeps a small kit of surgical tools and a crucifix for prayer in a wood-and-leather satchel strapped to his left thigh.

 

Medical Journals. - Victor carries two books of his surgical studies with him for reference. One contains notes and detailed drawings of human physiology and anatomy. The other is blank save for the first page. It's header reads "Lycan " and is followed a list of self-directed questions about the effects of shape-shifting on transplanted tissues, injuries, and brain chemistry. While purely scientific, people who look into these books and don't understand what they're for might be perturbed by the ghoulish detail of both the notes and the drawings.

 

Short Sword. - Also on the left is the scabbard for Victor's blade. He's not one for direct combat, but he knows how to use it if he needs to and that it'd be foolish to go anywhere unarmed. There's silver engraving down the length of the blade.

 

Shoulder Holster. - It houses Victor's .38 revolver. Blessedly simple, he keeps it well maintained.

 

Forearm Bandolier x2. - Bracers strapped to Victor's right and left forearms hold nine spare rounds for his revolver each.

 

Ammo: .38 caliber rounds. x18 (+6 loaded)

Edited by Inumori, 02 January 2015 - 12:13 AM.

[Muninn]

Spoiler

Spoiler

Name: Bratumił (brah-TUW-meew)
Race: Lycan
Age: 42
Sex: Male
 
Backstory: 

Bratumił is a Lycan originally from the Grey tribe who left with a smaller, nomadic tribe 24 years ago, heading for the far Northern plains. The goal of the nomads was to find a land uninhabited by vampire nor human so that they may flourish in ways that they could not when adjacent to them. From the beginning Bratumił had regrets about leaving his tribe, but he was a young Lycan seeking adventure and lured further by the promises of land and life belonging only to him and his brethern, so he pushed aside his doubts and replaced them with determination. The journey was long and arduous, they collided with nature and foe alike. From weather and terrian that harsh even to the physically dominant Lycan, to wildling clans of men and other tribes of Lycan, roving or local, there was little solice for the nomads. The group themselves had weak leadership and only a vague plan of action, issues which both slowed the journey and Bratumił only came to realize to little to late; he was already in his path, for better or worse.

 

It took just over six years for the nomads to reach their destination, or what the leaders claimed was their destination. Bratumił was disappointed. It was a barren tundra, with as much to eat as there was to see. Nothing. Were they supposed to be Ice farmers? Roll around in the frost and eat what little roots grew in frozen dirt? Or maybe they were supposed to make like the few weak human clans there were out there, cutting through the ice to catch some sad, cold fish. Either way, Bratumił felt betrayed, tricked. The cold he could live with, he had begun to fancy it as he ventured north. It was the lack of anything else but cold that angred him so. If hell had frozen over, this place would still be more barren. Bratumił the only one who felt this way. Many Lycan realized that they were either lied to about the destination, or lied to about actually having found it. Many believed that they were lost, while others believed that the leaders simply gave up. This realization came quick and hard, with a slaughter following it. The leaders and few loyalist were torn to shreds by the marginally smaller half of the nomads, with those who fled being ran down in warm blood turned cold. Then, Bratumił and the rest of the dissenters broke up into smaller packs and fanned out. Many started the journey home hoping their old tribes would take them back, other stayed for a time, slaughting the human clans they could find still in a rage over the abrupt end of the jounery and tribe. Bratumił was one of those who chose to stay behind, too ashamed to return to the Grey tribe, and too angry to stop killing.

 

It was a year before the slaughter on the Northern plains ceased. Most of the human clans were dead, with the remaining few fleeing south. But none of the Lycans even attempted to run them down. They had grown tired of it, both the plains and the killing. So they too went south, if only for greener pastures. Soon the small pack broke up, with members returning to their old tribes or becoming drifters. Bratumił was one of the few who drifted. He drifted for 17 years. He was surpised to find that there were very few communities out there, none of which approached Memorium's magnitude. At least none of the ones he happened upon. Bratumił lived as a sword for hire. An oddly hard life for something so powerful as a Lycan, who was disliked by just about everyone.

 

Now, 24 years after his leave, Bratumił has returned to Memorium in hopes of rejoining the Grey Tribe once more, his longing for home and kin overpowering his shame for leaving.

 
Stats 
Strength – 20
Agility – 13
Endurance – 15
Dexterity – 10
Willpower – 10
 
Skills
Shapeshifting(30)[Wolf] Five to Strength, seven to Agility, three to Endurance.
Overdrive(10)[Chilblain] Bratumił's fur, claws, and fangs become encased in a deep frost, causing the moisture in the air around him to condense and freeze in response to the chill emanating from him. His touch threatens to turn liquid solid, with his claws and fangs capable of instilling a deep frostbite that eats away at flesh.
Inventory:
Longsword
Heavy leather and quilt surcoat

Edited by Muninn, 19 February 2015 - 12:17 AM.

[Misty]

Spoiler

Spoiler

 

Name: Aric Lancel Tannis
Race: Lycan
Age: 31
Sex: Male

Backstory:

Like most lives, Aric's was simply a life created in a context inhospitable to the life attempting to blossom in it. In fact, as scholars of history may someday argue from their thrones of peace and luckiness, Aric and his story represent one of the final casualties of the bloody Crimson era. But that is getting way ahead.

 

Aric Lancel Tannis' parents were the leader and one his newest mate since the last one had lost her lifeof the once proud and highly respected clan the Silver Tears (wolves noted for the strange silver fur that fell from their eyes.) There is little point to any of their story as that is best left to the pages of books, but perhaps it will bring comfort to some that when Aric Lancel Tannis was born to a mother who loved him dearly, dubbing him with her old clan name for a middle name and his father's name for a last. He was the apple of her eye and for what seems a very brief time they were all very happy. Although Aric was a sickly baby, and often caused both his parents worry, he like all children represented their hope for the future.

 

And then the Church descended upon them when Aric was two. He can still partially remember his mother fleeing from their magic blades and his father rallying their people to flee for help to the rest of their brothers and even the vampire court. (enemies of enemies and all that.) That was the first time their pack was cut in half. They'd managed to reach the red court and secure a brief promise of help in hopes that they could deal a crippling blow to the church.

 

Aric wasn't even three when the other packs betrayed his family, but he watched it all. The quick and easy bloodshed, the vampires fleeing because of their belief they had been betrayed. The church descending on all the Lycans, slaying them and being slayed. It was a mad, chaotic dance of blood and guts and Aric was just a small, weak, sick child abandoned to the battlefield and when he could no longer stand to watch, he lay down, the only sign his pale body was alive was the slight shuddering and the tears.

 

When finally the dust cleared, the Lycans had retreated and the Church had set about setting the field aflame and returning to their church. Even as the flames licked at his back, Aric was too frozen to move, the vampires weren't. They'd returned to scavenge the bodies for blood, and one of them found Aric. He doesn't remember even now who it was, or more likely he's blocked it out much like the rest of that day.

 

Instead of eating him, the vampires thought he would make a nice gift to their lady, Anya Maria 8th in line for the red court. She liked pets of all shapes and sizes and if they nursed this sick little Lycan back to health, he might amuse her until his inevitable demise. And so they lifted him away from the flames, saw to the burn marks on his back, cleaned the dirt from him, and in his young mind, this was the kindest thing ever.

 

They delivered him to Anya in sparkling condition. Anya was the sort of vampire who was both childish, and sadistic. She enjoyed playing with the emotions of others, using them, and once they were no longer interesting to her, throwing them away. And a three year old Lycan child who has just seen the greatest travesty of his life thanking her for all her kindness. Telling her that everyone is wrong about vampires. That they are the best. Gushing joy and tears at her feet, that was a joke that would take a long time to get old. Anya began to string the young boy along keeping him by her side always and in the sickest way mothering him.

 

Although this only lasted until he was six, the psychological damage suffered couldn't be counted by even the best. It wasn't long before he began to identify more with the vampires he watched killing his own kind than with his own kind. And it took even less time for him to happily kill a Lycan just to hear the happy laughter and clapping of Anya. Like a puppy he would follow her around, brushing her hair, playing quietly at the foot of her chair, and when she grew angry accepting her abuse as if it were his job to do so. Anya lost interest then, but was fond enough of her pet to see to it that he be trained to be a scout and assassin for her. While this caused rumblings among her men, her High Assassin took the boy in readily, having always been curious about the physical differences between vampires and lycans and having noticed how quick the boy was with both hand and mind.

 

He came up like this, until the age of 18, always a second class citizen. And there were many problems along the way, but never with his loyalty. He spilled the blood of Lycans, humans, and even vampires that opposed his mistress happily. And his master was always pleased with his abilities, rather especially the abilities he saw when the boy's changes began.

final sorrow of his life represented the dawning of a new era of strife. Religious zealots, due to the betrayal of other vampires stormed the castle of Anya, killing without mercy. Aric watched them descend upon her bedroom, watched them laugh at the lady vampire as she begged mercy and hid from them like a dying animal. And some would have thought he would stop them, but Aric was not a fool, he knew now, as a young man, that he'd meant less than nothing to he. He'd been a toy. And he looked down at her in her death throes, and she looked back, her eyes begging that he rescue her. He left, searching for a new family to serve.

 

Aric found work in yet another family of the red court, this time as a personal bodyguard and assassin. No longer considered second class, and even respected for his long time loyalty he was soon working for himself, highering out his blade to the highest bidder so long as they always had vampire goals at heart. In the twelve years that have passed, Aric has built himself quite the reputation as an assassin and bodyguard. After all, peace has always been good for the assassin business.

 

 

 

Stats
Strength – 10
Agility – 10
Endurance – 5
Dexterity – 15
Willpower – 10

Skills
Wolf's Grace (25): (+8 Dexterity) (+5 Agility).

 

Child of Misery (5) Low level regeneration, nothing hugely fancy.

Inventory: Many small, sharp blades, a pair of brass knuckles, steel boots, a hooded coat, and a long blade made of silver. A simple first-aid kit. And light armor built into his dark clothing.

 

Edited by Misty, 18 January 2015 - 11:00 PM.

[JumpinJR]

 

 

Spoiler

 

Name: Jacob Pierce
Race: Human
Age: 24
Sex: Male
 
Backstory:  
Jacob lived a normal life, relatively.  Being the third son of a poor family, when he was young he was given to church.  He grew normal.  One day a member of the Alchemist guild was present and took a liking to Jacob’s nature.  This man asked if Jacob would consider joining the guild, Jacob took some time to think about it.  He acknowledged that the Alchemists did some good, advancing human well being, but he wasn't sure about the combat side.  The vampires and Lycan had never been a cause for pain in his life.  He had seen those who did suffer however, and that was enough. He decided to take up the mantle for the good of all.

He was an adept learner of Alchemy, creating his signature form after a few years of study.  He has shown.  He doesn’t hold any particular malice towards Lycan and Vampires, but he can see where the road the world is on is headed.  Another war that may cause the extinction of one to all races.  So he fights, to keep the peace.

When that fails, he’ll fight to keep his people alive.  

 

"A cold war huh?  Who better to have on your side haha"
 
Stats (5 is average for a human)
Strength – 8
Agility – 7
Endurance – 6
Dexterity – 9
Willpower – 5
 
Skills
 Frozen Eden [55]-  Jacob can use his blood to create ice in any shape he desires. 
 
Inventory:
-A warhammer with a large flat surface and two spikes.  The head of the hammer is wrapped in iron thorns.   
-A bandolier he wears because for blood vials.

-A karambit

 

 

 

[Sir Frog]

Spoiler

 

 

 

Name:Gilgamesh Grunewald of Edinburgh

Race: Human

 

Age: 33

 

Sex: Male

 

Strength: 8

Agility: 5

Endurance: 7

Dexterity: 10

Willpower: 5

Backstory:

 

Gilgamesh grew up in the shadow of his father Kermit; a master swordsman known for his academy of swordplay. Kermit was taught swordplay from his father whom survived the war of the Crimson Century. However Kermit never followed in his father’s footsteps by abstaining from military service.

 

Gilgamesh’s training started at the young age of 10 and ended at 17 when he decided to join the military. Against his father’s wishes he left his home to be in military service in hopes of surpassing his father through emulating his war hero grandfather. In his 6 years of service he won many duels and single handedly led defenses against lycan raids, which led to his knighting at the ripe age of 22. With all of his accolades the world seemed to be his oyster. Yet “he was no hero, just a glorified fighter.” To be called something as savage as a “fighter” conflagrated his temper, he had to prove he is a hero. Thus started his quest to become a hero and yielded nothing for months.

 

Toward the end of his quest he sat drunkenly at a tavern complaining aloud about his unfulfilled dream. A band of adventurers heard of his plight and with him talked of a weapon they attempted to locate in an evil forest. Apparently in there lies a holy weapon that has appeared many times in history. This weapon however is now guarded by the evil that which fears the blade. At that moment Gilgamesh ran out of the tavern toward said forest. With great speed and skill he dispatched any evil that stood in his way and then at last, his journey had come to an end.

 

The shrine illuminated in front of him, an innocuous longsword laid on top of a stone altar with gold embedded that read “Dunamis.” Quickly he dropped his masterwork sword and grabbed the magical weapon off of the altar. In a mere moment, the world increased around him. His strength left and the sword escalated in weight. What had happened? This weapon was to make him a hero. He ran over to the fountain behind the shrine to drink water, dehydration must have been the cause of this delirium. He looked into the water and there he saw it. A monster… some sort of frog being. This must be a trick! The sword must have been cursed!

 

Despite the shock, the revelation occurred to Gilgamesh. The sword merely revealed who he truly was, a monster with no true strength. All of the defeated men, all of the enemies who begged for their lives, they were all slain because of the prideful zeal in his heart. He was unfit to be a hero. There was no plea, nor was there any attempt to lift this curse. There was only quiet introspection. Perhaps one day the cursed knight will find himself worthy once again.

 

It has been 10 years since that fateful day. Prayer and meditation were now his allies, replacing pride and strength. As a result he was given back his human form. Gilgamesh isn’t quite sure why exactly he was cursed, but found it to be a blessing, and was rewarded Dunamis for his perseverance. From then on he was no longer a knight but merely a tool for Dunamis to exact justice upon the world. He forgoes his own identity because he has dishonored his name and must regain it before claiming his knighthood. In order to be faceless he now keeps himself fully covered, he is no longer Gilgamesh. He prefers that people refer to the sword instead of him, he merely talks for the sword. However all of that is trivial. The world is a dark place, and he now knows that it isn’t about heroics or pride. He must do what he can to defend humankind from the evils in which he suffered for a decade.

 

Items:

• Dunamis (Long Sword)

• Masterwork Long Sword (On a Back Scabbard)

• Hooded Beige Cloak

• Plate Armor

• Bedroll

• 3 Days Rations

• Waterskin

• Flint and Tinder

• Bolas

• Holy Scripture

Skills:

 

• Holy - Dunamis [55]

  • Dunamis’ Holy Might: The blade’s holy essence can be tapped into by the wielder, giving dramatic increases in strength. Prolonged use allows the user to tap into more of the holy energy.
  • Spark of Dunamis: Dunamis electrocutes anything it strikes

 

 

Edited by Sir Frog, 24 February 2015 - 06:37 AM.