Character List

After examining my broken Sig link, I realized that Falenor needed to be re-posted, so here he is:

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Name : Falenor

Age : 25

Gender : Male

Race : Human

Hair : A vivid orange colour, medium length and in disarray.

Weight : Around 70 kilograms

Height : About 190 cm

Weapon : Falenor carries a two-handed staff made from yew wood inlaid with several rubies. It's hopeless in combat, but serves as a reasonable conduit for his powers. If he has it, his power will be more efficient.

Armour : Falenor wears what at first glance appears to be quite boring garb, but when he feeds energy through it, the fibers lock into place, creating armour as hard as steel, with none of the weight. It only retains this property as long as he is fueling it with energy, however.

Strengths : Falenor's primary talent is his ability to manipulate many forms of energy. As such, any pure energy attacks against him will be unlikely to succeed, since he can control the attack and aim it back at the attacker, or even absorb it (provided he is fully aware of the attack, of course). He is particularly good at manipulating heat (and therefore fire) and electricity, having put a fair bit of training into thise particular forms of energy. He also wields minor control over gravity and kinetic energy (motion). He can also be quite speedy when he needs to be by firing jolts of electricity to specific nerve points. He is also much more intelligent than the average human.

Weaknesses : Falenor is rather physically weak, and particularly vulnerable to physical attacks. While he can absorb some kinetic energy, he finds this rather difficult. Also, energy conjured by magic is harder to control with his power, and therefore quite dangerous to him. In addition, while his powers have no actual range limit, the further away something is that he tries to affect, the more energy it wil require.

Skills : Falenor's primary talent is his ability to manipulate many forms of energy. This talent's applications are many and varied, but he has focused on developing certain areas of it, granting him a few "main" powers. These are not the limits of his skills, however using his skills in other ways will be less efficient and less effective.

Firestream - The name isn't entirely accurate. This skill actually projects a beam of heat, which can be expanded into a wave or cone if need be. It will, however, be a stream of fire if certain combustible elements such as petrol are projected along with the beam. It is quite hard to see, but easy to hear.

Minor Telepathy - While he cannot mind read, exactly, he can sense the general feelings of another person by examining the electrical impulses firing in their brain. He can also flawlessly "mind read" anything purely electronic, such as a robot.

Force Barrier - This produces a faintly glowing blue barrier in any shape, which will repel anything that comes near it with kinetic force proportional to the amount of energy he puts into it. Note that it will not only repel matter, but anything that comes into contact with it. If anything manages to touch it, it disappears immediately. One of his more common uses of this is to create a U-bend shape to deflect ranged attacks back toward their source.

"Flight" - By absorbing the gravitational forces around him, Falenor can fly through the air. Since he absorbs the gravity, the technique is self-sustaining, however he cannot use his other powers while flying.

Kinetic Blast - While he cannot use telekinesis, Falenor can project waves of kinetic energy at objects, knocking them away from him. This technique can be used as an outwardly-projecting sphere, but at a much higher energy cost.

Heat Shield - He can create a barrier of heat in a certain area. While it won't stop things from passing through it, it will heat up anything that passes through it. A lot. It shows up as a glowing red screen in the air wherever it was created.

Energy Form - Falenor can transform all the atoms in his body into pure energy. This will make him much harder to hit with physical attacks. However, it leaves him vulnerable to other forms of attack, and requires a lot of energy to initiate, though none over extended periods. It also requires a while to initiate, so he can't just use it when he sees someone attacking him. He also doesn't need to breathe in this form. He can also create copies of this form, whether he is in it or not.

Nerve trigger - By firing electricity down choice nerves, Falenor can accelerate his movement, or cause muscle twitches in his opponents by touching them. This requires extreme precision and sometimes goes wrong.

Lightning Call - By manipulating negative ions in the air, Falenor can throw bolts of lightning at his foes (to damage), or himself (to absorb). The longer he concentrates, the more and better bolts he can throw, but the more energy it requires.

Lightning Shot - This taps into Falenor's energy directly to ionize the air around him, providing a single path for a bolt of lightning which arcs from his palms. This path can be through anything conductive, for example an opponent, or an electrical circuit.

Energy Transmution - Falenor can transform one form of energy into another. Generally completely efficient, it is harder to use against magical energy.


Reflect - Falenor surrounds himself in a bright blue barrier, which obstructs all forms of energy from entering or leaving it. This drains Falenor's energy very fast if maintained, but can be put up quite quickly at a high initial energy cost. He cannot initiate attacks while performing this technique.

Telepathic Stance - Falenor focuses his minor telepathy into the gems on his staff, allowing him to multiply it's power significantly. He can now glean much more information from people's minds. He is also able to transmit information via electrical energy directly to other people's minds, such as words or a diagram or even a song or some such. However, this stance requires around 15 secs of uninterrupted preparation.

Detection Stance - By closing his eyes, Falenor can sense energy in the region around him quite accurately, letting him pinpoint things that may otherwise be hidden from him. However, things with a comparatively weak energy sugnature might not be visible under this stance.

And many more besides, Falenor has merely to think of a use for energy and he can take advantage of it, though he has to train in it for a long time before he can use it well. He has a few non energy-related "abilities" as well

Inventive - Falenor is rather intelligent, but is particularly adept at inventing and fixing things with whatever happens to be around. Many of the devices he invents can be powered with electricity he can supply with his other talents.

Appearance - Falenor clothes himself in a plain dark maroon T-shirt and navy blue jeans. He often wears an electric-blue cloak with a hood large enough to cover his eyes. All these garments are made of special fiber that becomes very hard when energy is fed through it (see the Armour section). He usually walks barefoot, creating a pair of energy shoes if he needs them. His hair is bright orange and wild, his eyes are usually emerald green, but turn blue when he is manipulating most energy, electric blue when he uses electricity, and a deep crimson when he uses fire or heat. Other than this, he looks quite average (Unless he's carrying his staff, of course!)

Personality - Falenor is generally a kind, compassionate person, but is always after more power. This, of course, is a dangerous trait. He will usually help people where he can, but is reluctant to put himslef at risk to do so. He looks out for himself mostly, and is a rather withdrawn person, though he will happily converse with anyone who comes over to talk to him, especially if it's an intellectual topic. He knows how it feels to feel hopeless (from personal experience), and tries especially hard to turn people's lives around, feeling he owes it to the universe after it fixed up his life so well. He tries to avoid being arrogant and over-confident, but is not always successful. Before he does anything, he will relentlessly analyze the situation if time allows for it, and sometimes spends hours at a time hovering slightly off the ground while thinking about his best course of action. This also helps him to gather his power and focus. He is usually rather contemplative, and often will not hear what someone says due to being lost in thought. He concentrates very hard on almost everything he does. He might appear cheerful on the outside, but anyone who really knows him knows of his horrific past and that he is a much more serious person than he appears.

Once, he was a very scientific person, always believing in what he could see, and what could be proved, and what was known to be correct. After he gained his powers, Falenor began to question his old views, not least of all because he seemed to be able to sense an energy entirely unrelated to bodily functions within everyone he met. Nowadays, he is very open-minded, readily able to believe and understand things that he would simply have rejected before.

Biography - Falenor was born into an incredibly poor family in a slum on a little-known world far away from anywhere. His father died from disease when he was very young; this left a lasting impression on him. His house consisted of three rooms : One bedroom, one bathroom, and a living room. He rarely had enough to eat or drink, and disease was commonplace where he was living. He had four brothers and three sisters, of which one brother (named Learon) and sister (named Maria) survive to this day. Growing up, he had to make do with what little entertainment he could find. Often he would go down to the nearby drain and skip stones with his siblings and other friends. From this, he learned some of the basic mechanics of motion.

When he was about seven, Falenor was fully confronted with the girm reality of life in a slum. Of his family, only his mother and two of his brothers and sisters were still alive, disease and starvation claiming the others. In order to put food on the table, Falenor's mother had to send Learon and Maria to work in the industrial district far away from their home. Every day they would have to walk for about an hour before reaching work, then walk back late in the evening. So he was left with very little to do during the day. He went about amusing himself by examining all sorts of plysical interactions, such as the best way to skip stones and how to throw rocks for mazimum distance. He was fascinated by simple machines like the pulleys used to haul building materials, and the basic mechanics behind the bow which was kept in their hut as a family heirloom.

At age 10, only Falenor, Learon, and Maria were left, their mother and remaining siblings having passed away. To earn enough money to survive, Falenor had to volunteer as a test subject for various scientific projects. At first, it was simple stuff, like testing new prescription medication. He was out almost all day doing these tests, and in his rare moments of free time he would work on inventions and such. The first thing he came up with was a simple spring-like mechanism that would allow you to absorb more energy from each step while walking, meaning you tires less quickly. He made three, and gave one to each of his siblings, keeping one for himself.

When he turned 12, the company he was testing for came up with a new drug that supposedly granted a sudden burst of energy. When Falenor took the drug, however, it permanently decreased his muscle strength to the point that he could hardly make it to the lab every day. While the effects slowly decreased, they never dissipated entirely, and he had to spend the next year living at the lab because he could no longer walk there on his own. Many other painful experiments followed.

On his 13'th birthday, Learon and Maria, who were now 14 and 16 respectively, pooled their collective savings and bought Falenor a pair of proper running shoes. With these, Falenor could finally live back at his house again, which he did because he missed his brother and sister so much. He quickly set about trying to improve his new shoes, but to no avail. About 6 months later, he had come up with a simple device to purify water. This device, while not perfect, saved the lives of many of his fellow townspeople, since their only source of water was a badly polluted river that flowed from the industrial district upstream and had all the waste from the district dumped in it, including dangerous waste and various pieces of useless machinery. This made him rather popular in town.

About 3 months after his 15th birthday, Falenor was asked to test a revolutionary new treatment for mental disabilities. He was put in a mostly white room and strapped to a chair, and had a large, white helmet strapped to his head, and electrodes on various points on his face to monitor his vital signs. The scientists fired a charge through the electrodes, and at that point Falenor stopped being able to think straight. Whenever he tried to think about something, his concentration wandered. Having inflicted this on him, the scientists then tried to cure him of it. They switched the helmet on, and there was a low-pitched noise that slowly grew in volume. At it's loudest, the noise nearly ruptured Falenor's eardrums. After a few minutes, barely visible to the naked eye, soft, blue ripples began emnating from the helmet. Though they might have been hard to see, they showed up on the scientist's monitors as waves of energy radiation. They just ignored them, despite the danger they might have posed to everyone present, such was their desire to get money off this project. After about 10 minutes, the experiment began registering dangerous levels of electricity entering Falenor's brain, and he begins screaming for them to stop. And yet they continued. After 15 minutes, Falenor is in extreme pain, and doesn't feel like he can take any more. He finds that he can concentrate again, though. So the treatment works, he thought grimly. At this stage, he is in so much pain that all he wants is for the machine to stop. At this point, a wave of electricity shorts out the helmet, destroying it entirely. The wave goes through the computers being used to monitor it, too, destroying all the data they had collected on the helmet. Falenor stumbles out of the chamber, dazed but happy to be alive. The scientists are in the computer room, all getting angry at each other. As he walks out for the day, he sees a large formula covering a whole whiteboard. He spots a flaw in it and corrects it, much to the amazement of the scientists.

After about a month, Falenor realised that his intellect had been boosted by the experiment when he found a bunch of broken machinery in the river and reassembled them into a pocket-sized device for sensing large energy pulses, so he could tell if the scientists were making another, similar device. He now spends his spare time fixing machines that float downstream, and taking apart the ones that are beyond repair to reassemble them or use the parts for fixing.

Another 4 months later, winter has set in. Their poorly insulated house is freezing in winter, and the rest of the town/slum district doesn't fare much better. One night, as he lies in bed freezing, he thinks to himself "if only I was a bit warmer...". Strangely, he suddenly feels warmer! Not sure if he's dreaming or not, he pinches himself hard, but doesn't feel any different. He goes and asks Learon about what's going on. Learon tells him that he's just hallucinating, probably from that brain experiment he had done on him before. As Learon turns to leave, Falenor puts a hand out to stop him. Learon notices that Falenor does seem a bit warmer. "How odd" they both say. Falenor goes back to bed, warm and strangely content.

The next day, Falenor wakes up early and heads down to the river to skip stones again. He looks for a while before finding a suitable stone. He prepares to throw it, thinking "This is going to be my best stone skip ever - I can feel it!". He throws the stone, which bounces off the water...
...repeatedly. It veers away from Falenor and begins heading upstream. In total, it bounces about 56 times off the water. Falenor stares at the stone in disbelief as it heads upstream.

As he heads home, Falenor sees a kid staring up into a tree looking sad. He looks up into the tree and sees a kite stuck in it. He climbs up the tree to get the kite, but just as he grabs it, the branch he's standing on snaps and he starts falling. As he falls, he tries desparately to grab the tree, but fails. "Dammit! I can't hit the ground at this speed..." he thinks. He closes his eyes...then opens them and realises he hasn't hit the ground yet. He looks down and sees that he's floating a little way above the ground! He touches down softly and keeps heading for home.

When he gets there, he tries in vain to light the fireplace; no-one has been able to light it for a few weeks since the real cold set in. Just as he throws down his flint (stones he was using to make sparks) in frustration, the fireplace roars into life! "OK, this is getting weird" he thought.

He then heads out to the river to pick up a few more parts, and notices a machine in decent enough condition. Oooh, I can fix that, he thinks to himself. So he takes it and a few other spare bits and bobs home and fixes up the new machine.

Once he's fixed it, he figures out that's it's an electric sewing machine. He goes to put it in the pile with all the other electronically powered devices (He's accumulated a fair few!). Now, if only I had a source of electricity, he thinks, I need to fix this T-shirt...as he thinks this, the machine whirrs into life! It looks like an ordinary sewing machine, but Falenor feels something...strange about it. So he takes the T-shirt inside and sews it up with the machine. He puts on the T-shirt, and then heads outside. He trips over a rock and sees a nail on the ground he's about to fall on. "Dammit, that could be fatal! If only this shirt were strong enough to resist penetration...". When he gets up off the ground, expecting to see a nail sticking out of his sternum, he instead sees the nail bent on the ground. "OK, now that's just downright bizarre" he thinks to himself. He goes and tells Learon about what's been going on over the past few days.

Learon is rather interested by all of this. He takes Falenor inside and asks him a few more questions about it. Then he asks Falenor to think hard about igniting the fireplace. The fireplace bursts into life, and Learon notices Falenor's eyes turn a deep crimson colour for a second. Amazed by this, he asks Learon what he thinks is going on, to which Learon replies "if I didn't know better, I'd say you had some sort of weird powers now. No, wait...I think that's exactly what happened. Can you think of anything that might have happened to you to cause this??". Falenor then remembers the scientist's most painful test, and how it ended with the helmet shorting out. "I think I might know what happened..." he says, and explains to Learon. Learon then tells him to go and try shooting fireballs at a tree. Falenor tries this, but nothing seems to happen. Learon then tells him to try setting the tree on fire. This does work. Falenor finally works out what is going on. "I think I might be able to control certain forms of energy or something like that. It still doesn't explain the thing with the nail, though. Hang on a sec...". Falenor concentrates on sending energy through his clothing, then he whacks himself with a stick. The stick breaks in two. "That's interesting...". Falenor then promptly goes and mends his jeans with the machine as well. He also crafts a blue hooded robe with some spare cloth. Now what to do, he thinks to himself...

Falenor decides to spend the next few years of his life honing his newfound skills in the wilderness nearby. He spends the next 5 years living off the land and practising his new talents, getting stronger with each passing day. He cuts down a small, young yew tree with concentrated heat and carves it into a staff; this process takes about a month to complete. Once he finishes with that, he builds himself a little shack from fallen branches etc. This will be his home for the next four years 11 months. He then makes a quick trip back to town to tell Learon, Maria, and the rest of the townspeople where he is going so they can visit him if they want, then heads back to the wilderness.

Three years later, on his 18th birthday, the townspeople get together some cash and buy Falenor a set of five small rubies in gratitude for all his help over the years. Falenor is speechless; this is a fantastic gift coming from such a poor town. He thanks them all sincerely and tells them that when he returns, he will do all in his now quite considerable power to help get the town running better. He spends the next few weeks hunting, training, and embedding the rubies in the tip of his staff. He then discovers that when holding the staff, he can manipulate energy a little better. He tells himself to thank the townspeople even more when he returns.

Two years pass, and Falenor returns to the town. He is greeted with much happiness, and people immediately find jobs for him. He fixes a couple of roofs, helps build a new town building, and improves his filter design with a bacteria-killing electricity grid for the water to pass through. Not only does this completely purify the water, the concept is so sound he gets it patented and sells it as a super-cheap purifier. Despite the low price tag, demand is so high that he gets a LOT of money, which he promptly gives to the town council. He heads back to town to oversee it's expenditure

After another two years, the town is looking much better. Falenor lives in an average-sized house now, but demanded that his old three-room shack be left as is as a testament to his origins. He tries to think of what to do next in his life. He looks to his older brother, Learon, for guidance, as he often does. Learon says that he has been granted a wonderful power and that he should use it to do good in the world. Falenor tries to think of a way to do this, then remembers all the pain the scientists put him through. He tells this to Learon, who says "Well, you could put an end to many people's suffering by stopping their experiments, couldn't you?". "But how am I supposed to get there?" he asks. "The lab was surrounded by tons of high-tech security. I think it was to keep out spies or something". After a bit of thought, Falenor remembers the incident with the tree and the levitating, all those years ago. Though he has never tried it, Falenor suggests that he might be capable of flight.

He spends the next week practising flight. He tries several different approaches. First, he tries simply willing himself into the air. This brings him a few centimetres above the ground, not really practical for much. Then, he tries summoning up a wind to carry him into the air. Still no luck. After that, he tries propelling himself into the air with kinetic energy. This seems to work, but causes a massive energy drain. Finally, he tries absorbing the gravitational potential energy that he gains when he propels himself into the air with kinetic energy. This works much better! Plus, since he is gaining energy by using it, it seems he can fly for as long as he wants! He tries firing lightning bolts into the air...and falls right out of the sky, stopping himself a hair's breadth from the ground. Learon, who had been watching, burst out laughing. Once he'd finished, he asked Falenor why he had trained so hard to fly in the firstplace. Falenor says he wanted to stop the suffering of the test subjects at the lab he was at when he was younger. So he flies over to the lab and storms in, his eyes glowing crimson, and his figure distorted by a heat haze. He addresses the scientists, shouting "I never want anyone else to go through what I had to. If I hear anything about people suffering here, I will descend on this lab in a plume of fire and destroy...parts of it." Having said this, he heads back to town and tells Learon of his actions. Learon congratulates him on his work.

Another two years pass. Learon and Maria have left town to seek their fortunes elsewhere, and Falenor feels he should do the same. He begins travelling and seeing all the wonders of his world. Then one day he looks to the stars and wonders if there are other worlds out there somewhere. So he creates a force barrier around himself and travels into space in search of other life, though he can only travel in short bursts, and has to be careful.

One year on, and he still hasn't found another world. His 25th birthday rolls around, and this is where his story truly begins...

Bijou Eegale

Age:
21

Race:
Hylia/Sheikah

Hylians

The Hylia are an elf-like race of humans from the fictional world of Hyrule. According to the original A Link to the Past instruction manual, Hylians were born with magic-infused blood, endowing them with psychic powers and skill in wizardry, while according to the Japanese manual, these powers are gifts from the gods. The manuals also claim that a Hylian's long, pointed ears (their only known physical difference from regular humans) allows him to hear messages from the gods. In Ocarina of Time, most Hylians seem to live within the fortified walls of Hyrule Castle Town or the small, neighboring Kakariko Village. Besides living in the marketplace, other citizens of the kingdom inhabit territory outside of the protected town.

Sheikah

The Sheikah were an ancient clan of ninja-like warriors that swore to protect the Hylian Royal Family, and were often referred to as the "shadows" of the Hylians. At the time of Ocarina of Time, the only known surviving member of the tribe is Impa, Princess Zelda's nursemaid. Little is known of the tribe, but it has been implied that the Sheikah were incredibly agile and had magical prowess similar to Hylians.

Sex:
Female

Hair:
Black curly hair.

Eyes:
Light green eyes with a tinge of crimson.

Weight:
130 lbs.

Height:
5'8"

Weapon:
Long double edged sword with a crimson coloured handle. It measures to be about twenty five inches in length. It was a bit heavy at first for Bijou, but with adequate amounts of practice she could hold it nimbly and the way she moves it gives it the weight appearance of a feather. The crimson grip is tinged with gold and there is a diamond embedded in the center of it, giving the impression that it's indestructible.

Armor:
She wears no piercing free armor, but does have a sheet of chain mail across her chest and around her shins. She wears mostly thin layers of leather and other rough cloth for some mild level of protection.

Strengths:
She has high accuracy and precision. Above average strength compared to most men and any women. She can defiantly hold her own in any brawl. She's also very quick, with reflexes like a cat.

Weakness:
Bijou's emotional attachment to other's is her major weakness. She feels for most things and is touched easily; many people have taken advantage of this. She's generally weak towards brutal methods of fighting. She knows no special style of fighting but more of a 'street fighter' approach, so she is not able to defend herself well from most ancient styles of karate, etc.

Skills/Magic:
Fire/Flare
The only known skill/magic of Bijou's is that she can use the magic of Fire and the non-elemental magic, Flare.. She can call it fourth and use it at her disposal, but only in quick and small amounts. Using it too much or too often is not very beneficial to her physical health.

Appearance:
Starting from the head with cascading black curly hair that mostly shadows the light green orbs she has for eyes; her face is long and is sprinkled with a hint of freckles. Her skin is like milk mixing with black coffee and she stands at a poise 5'8", holding a wolf like stare. Heavy chain mail and leather hang loosely from her structured figure, and she bares a ruby about the size of a walnut around her neck. Her cheeks are barely sunken in and if she plays with the light she can appear almost ghostly like.

Personality:
First impressions cannot be taken into consideration when meeting Bijou, if so, you wouldn't want to come back to share a cup of tea with her. She doesn't have much shame, and by that, I mean she can do whatever her free will longs for without much consideration of who is around and what they may think. Generally though, she's a sweet girl going great measures to do something for someone, but with her overall weakness of getting attached to someone, she limits her to being somewhat of a good person. She doesn't stay around often, in fear of not being able to leave. She isn't naive however and is strongly independent.

Biography:
She knows of her parents but who they are and where they come from are unknown to her. She doesn't spend much time thinking about it, seeing how growing up without parents has allowed her mind to think she doesn't need them, and her initial interest is barely alive anyway. She grew up without any definite homeland, making a few friends here and there, but no childhood friends are to name or relatives that she knows of. As far as she is concerned she is the only family she has.

Her last name Eegale is a variation on the spelling of 'eagle' as in the bird. She sees it fitting because she has the eye of an eagle, barely missing her target. She doesn't know what her real last name is though, so she fit it herself. I would say that Bijou is not oblivious to her history but doesn't know what happened to cause her to live and grow up the way she did. Whether or not she is seeking these answers is unknown, for she has not made it known to anyone. As far as most people are concerned she just travels the country, battling where she can find some worthy opponents. Although she does get emotional attached to people rather quickly she tries to prevent that from moving on quickly from place to place; or shunning other's attempts in getting to know her.

Above all, Bijou has a longing to do something, to protect something she doesn't know quite exists yet. Brief glimpses, she thinks, comes to her in her dreams, most times in heavy loads. There is a mystery somewhere in her life that is trying to reveal it self but with her clashing personality, she can't seem to get a chase on it.

As of current Bijou is traveling most likely, about to make a routine stop... somewhere.

Name: Rethir Longslash

Age: 18

Race:Zora

Sex: Male

Hair: None, he's a Zora

Eyes: Blue

Weight: 150 pounds

Height: 6 foot 2 inches

Weapon: Long thin slashing sword. When I say long, 7 feet long

Armor: A tough, blue that comes down to his waist. Made of dragon skin, and can stop an arrow. Looks similar to the Zora tunic

Strengths: Very fast, on land or in water, and great at using rolls and jumps to dodge attacks

Weakness: Not very strong, but made up for by speed. If he dries out too much he gets weak.

Skills/Magic: Has the natural underwater electrical field of all Zoras, and is just as good at fighting on land as in the water. A good musician

Appearance: Humanoid, but with a fishtail coming off the back of his head, and fins on arms, but not on legs. He is an aquamarine blue exept on his torso/belly and face, which are white. Wears goggles up on his forehead

Personality: Distant and aloof, not angered easliy, but when he is, there's no stopping him. In battle he remains calm and collected, and almost at ease. He has a soft spot for Human/Hylian/Kokiri childern, but is fairly indifferent toward other species. He loves Zoras, and will defend them, both verbally and physically, with an almost fanatical passion.

Biography: Living in Termina, Rethir was actually one of the Zora eggs Link rescued. After Link left, the Geurdos, angry at having lost the eggs, started attacking the Zoras. All the children were trained in the art of fighting, to aid with the war. One, Rethir, was a cut above the average, and recived special trainig from both the Master of Fighting and Lulu, his mother. Lulu was not a fighter, but she trained him to play the guitar, like his father Miaku.

One day, long after the war was over, Lulu told him of a young boy dressed in green, who had a mask that allowed him to transform into Rethir's father. Rethir, thinking seeing his father, or more specifically, becoming his father, would make his mother happy, as she had been depressed ever since the war was over. He left home, and set out to find this boy and buy the mask from him.

Wow! My first characture! Took another try to get her right, but here she is!!

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Luna Palemoon

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Name: Luna Palemoon

Age: 16 years

Race: Gerudo

Sex: Female

Hair: Light Blonde usally in a ponytail

Eyes: deep blue

Weight: 156 Ibs

Height: 5'9"

Weapon: A saber sword passed down from her mother. The hilt is made out of gold and has a wolf head with saphire eye at the end. Luna also has the unusual ability to change into a white wolf. In her wolf form, she just uses her teeth and claws.
Armor: No armor except some leather gauntlets on both arms.

Strengths: Her wolf form is her biggest strength. She is also is good at sword fighting. Her mother taught her most of her moves. She uses her speed and agility to win most battles.

Weakness: Luna is vulnerable during the time she is changing from human to wolf form and back. She also has a tendancy to underestimate opponents. She also does not wear any body armor and is usally in Gerudo dress. This leaves her body open to attacks. She also is weakened by fire.

Skills/Magic: her ability to change into a wolf. Nothing is needed for this process, but it does take a couple of seconds, which leaves her open to attacks. She has a couple of special abilities as a wolf. She can also use some ice spells.

Howl: this attack can be used when there is a lot of enemies surrounding her. The howl is ear-splitting and can make anyone cringe.

Quick Dash: As a wolf, Luna is even faster then normal. This move allows her to bowl her enemy over, but only works on enemies taller then her wolf form.

Ice Bite: A small field of ice forms around her each tooth, embeading itself in her enemies skin when she bites. This can be especially painfull.

Ice Storm: This is Luna's last resort because of the energy it drains. Luna uses this by forming a dome of ice around her, then shattering it. The ice shards fly everywhere. Usally its hard to survive this attack.

Appearance: Luna is mostly the typical Gerudo except for her blonde hair. She usally wears a black cloak though because of the fact that most Gerudo's are despised because of the race's past. She has a strange symbol on her head in the shape of a blue cresent moon. She has a tatoo on her right forearm of a white snarling wolf. She always carries her sword, which was passed down to her by her mother before she died. In her wolf form, she is a mostly normal white wolf except for the fact that she still has the symbol on her forehead.

Personality: Luna is normally a caring person, but she can be hot headed at times and is very cocky. She hates it when people insult her and usally tries to get back at them. She also is very smart so she has a tendancy to act like she knows everything. Like, most Gerudo's, she is NOT a typical hylain girl. She hates wearing dresses and is very tomboyish. She does'nt expect anyone to do anything for her just because she is a girl.

Biography: Luna grew up with her mother in the Gerudo Desert. There her mother trained her in the Gerudo ways, hoping that Luna would end up to be a theif like her mother. Much to Luna's protest, she was trained in the art of fighting and theivery so that she could defend herself. When her mother died because of a illness, Luna was only 10. Not wanting to continue her training as a theif, she then ran away to Castel town, where she stayed as a beggar for sometime. Life at Castel Town was hard, because of her race. Many people would wrongly accuse her if something or somebody went missing. After she had been driven out of town by some soldiers, she traveled the country side until she found Cherdira, a kind woman in Kokariko Village that took her in. Cherdira was once a Gerudo herself, but left the desert to find a husband, which she never did. Cherdira took pity on the Luna, and let her stay. Luna discvored her unusual ability to turn into a wolf during the age of Twilight when Cherdira was attacked and killed by the twilight monsters. For a while, she was forced to work at a ranch in order to make ends meet. The owner thought that he could force her into marrying his son, much to Luna's disgust. Luna again ran away from the ranch and stole a white mare named Bliza from the owner. Now Luna romes the country, looking for a job and a place to settle.

Alice

Age: Approx. 23 (Explained Later).

Race: Human now, was once a wolf.

Sex: Femme Fatale.

Weapon: Non-conventional weapons are the youth's favorite. She uses her teeth for most things (a primal habit, only further effective by the fact that her sharp canines were not changed with the rest of her body), only occasionally using the nearest blunt object (i.e. a rock, stick, spoon) for whatever purpose.

Weaknesses: Like a magpie, she's got an exceptional eye for shiny objects. With this being said, it's not hard to get her distracted; her attention span is that of a three-year-old pumped full of sugar and let loose in a room full of toys. Also, shoes inhibit Alice's ability to do things correctly, thus why she's barefooted most of the time. She's terribly clumsy, and often forgetful of simple things (like shutting the door).

Appearance/ Hair/ Eyes/ Weight/ Height: So far as her appearance goes, Alice resembles a pre-pubescent teen in some regards. Her charcoal-black locks are cut extremely short, leaving a fringe of bangs to obscure her rainbow eyes. Through determination, the girl isn't inhibited by her height (a mere 4 feet and 11 inches). Soaking wet, she probably weighs 90 pounds. Her face is childish with pouty lips and large, albeit threatening, eyes. Despite her 'age', Alice remains true to her overall image and is nearly flat-chested, though she has 'hidden' muscle.

Alice's choice of clothing generally consists of a red 'hoody' with obscure markings on the front, slices in the cuffs for her petite thumbs to slip through. She wears black pants with lime-green stripes, extra pockets sewn on haphazardly to accommodate random trinkets she picks up along the way. Most of the time, Alice will go barefoot. If, in fact, she is forced to wear footwear, she generally settles for a pair of ballerina slippers so she can still feel the ground beneath her feet.

Strengths: Alice is excellent at estranged word problems and dealing with little children. She likes to avoid confrontation, but uses instincts to her advantage. Alice also has a good understanding of the human (or humanoid) psyche, so she tends to implement mind games or simple illusions.

Personality: Alice isn't an exceptionally social person (she's much too shy to be), but is very accepting of others. When she finds one solid friend, she will go through the seven circles of hell to ensure their safety. When confronted with potential enemies, Alice's first instinct is to run away. She isn't a coward, but would rather spare the time and pain associated with it. Anything with sugar is immediate love, as is shiny stuff and cute, cuddly things. Most of the time, her vacant expression is mistaken for coldness, another reason why Alice doesn't get close to people around her. She hates anything bitter, or with a funny taste/smell, and rude people. One of Alice's biggest fears is spiders; she suffers from chronic arachnophobia, and goes into hysterics whenever confronted with a spider of any proportion.

Biography: Alice was born into a lovely pack of wolves and, of four pups, survived with only one other, her brother. They remained close and, when the decimation of the pack arrived, moved on together. Soon, Alice met a werewolf (during that time of the month) and the two found an attraction. Her brother was outraged at this fact and disappeared, only to pop back in every once in a while to regain his sister from the imposter. Even after the werewolf turned back into his human form, Alice stuck by his side, loyal to him since her brother had abandoned her because of his jealousy. Problems with the Were occurred and, out of desperation, the femme went to a gypsy, of sorts, and asked to be turned into a human, to make it easier for the Were. Still, the conflicts did not end and somehow the two separated. Without her love and her brother, Alice's depression forced her subconscious to take over. Her memories were forced in a corner of her mind, under lock-and-key until a time arose where she could handle the stockpiled memories.

Name: Birdro, Karpov "Smith"

Age: 20

Birthday: 10/12/1987

Birth Place: Tunguska, Russia

Weapon(s): Large hammer made of strange metal, which he is nicknamed after because he looks like one carrying it, "Smith".

Strengths: Heightened senses, including sight and hearing ; Increased strength and speed ; larger memory capacity ; developing psychic abilities increasing as age progresses. Can speak any language fluently and with the local accent, after hearing of course.

Weaknesses: Weakness to super sonic air wave frequencies (think DareDevil ) ; huge random head aches will strike without notice, caused by psychic abilities developing. A bullet to the head. ( He's not superman! )

Power(s): Mind reading, telekinesis, basically anyway a person can emmit phycic energy into a concentrated form. Karpov is learning how to use phycic powers to do other things, like sensing past energy and mental projection. The longer Karpov uses his phycic power his ability to concentrate will diminish with time ( being affected by such things as the wieght of the object ) and he act almost like a drunk with a buzz on. His physical stamina stays, but his ability to think and act accordingly to such things as an attack or a quip will be the same as a drunk's if he overextends himself. This applies to all phycic powers. The more he pratices, with any power, the longer he is able to use his powers to a fuller extent. If he dosen't know how to do the things he needs to, he can somehow, without doing anything conciously, summon up memories of people doing what he needs to do, and how to do it, adding to his repitour of powers.

Appearance: Six feet tall, burly exterior. Large arms, a bear-fur jacket with gnarled copper buttons. Black leather belt with a golden buckle. Bear-fur pants that go over leather hiking boots. Leather hat lined with fur. Black hair drooping over a wide pale face. Eyes are stout, with one brown pupil in the left and a blue in the right. Exposed ears, wide frown, and a short chin.

Personality: Finds it hard to trust strangers, and even closest friends. Mocking his country or his family ( His mother is the red button. ) can result in broken bones, if your slow or cannot withstand being inflated like a balloon by phycic powers. Though he looks mean, he sometimes helps an injured animal or random person who is in danger. Sometimes finds other cultures strange or humorous, but will not say it if it will cause him to miss out on the local cuisuine. If the previous sentence didn't help, he loves food. Is loyal to those who help him in the cause that he joins and will not betray anyone willingly.

Bio: Found in the woods inside a small metal chamber by two other Russians, a man and his wife, in the tundra, he was quickly adopted by them and raised as their own. Leading a normal childhood for eight years, he quickly became the top student of the school house that had been built three years after finding him, an incident befell his parents.

The house in which Karpov had been raised and fed was destroyed in what the police called a “gas explosion,” though the family had no gas stove. Karpov wanted dearly to see his parents, but it was insisted that he never even return to the wreckage.

Soon a van came to the school that Karpov had been when hearing the horrible news, two men in white coats took Karpov and brought him to an unknown facility for which reason he could not understand at the time. Taken to a windowless room, he was asked question after question about his parents, himself, and his birth from a speaker. Every question he answered to the best of his ability, not wanting the scary men to hurt him, into a microphone in front of him on the table. Soon, Karpov was released from the facility, placed in a van and driven back to the school from which he came.

The teachers were gone, the school locked, and with nowhere left to go, wandered the streets of Tunguska for another three years of his life, becoming a drifter and from time to time, a con-artist and thief.

After those three years of landing in juvenile penitentiaries repeatedly, he was picked up by a van looking like the one that had picked him up three years before when his parents had died. He was given a narcotic and woke a few hours later in a windowless room. Still feeling the effects of the narcotic, he began to hear a voice from a speaker in the room. He was bound at the arms and could not move, and his three-years worth of street sense told him not to. Again he was asked question after question, until he was knocked out cold and thrown back into the streets.

Another three years of his life went by and the same thing happened, until he was eighteen years of age, instead of being picked up by a van, he was left alone on the streets. Then, he walked the streets, unable to sleep, Lights of some unknown origin then flew above him. Looking at them, he went under some kind of hypnosis, falling asleep. When he awoke he found himself in some kind of cell, with no windows or bars, just a circular silver wall room. He somehow felt weak at the knees and all most fell twice, but his resolve held him.

Some unseen doors opened in the wall, and two human figures entered, wearing strange garbs. They spoke to him in some language he had never heard before, but he could somehow understand them.

“Come with us,” they had said to him. He followed, for to reasons. One, he was curious, two, he didn’t want to die in such a strange place.

“Learn of your true origins.” They came to a large screen, and so far Karpov had not yet seen a single other person. The screen lit up, and Karpov could see perfectly, like it was a window. There was a large tube filled with green liquid, and tubes ran through it. He could only faintly see a small body inside. The image left the screen and he could see a small pod on the floor of some hangar. The pod’s jets, or something like it, thrust it forward into outer space. The image changed again, this time showing the pod going to some blue planet. Earth.

“Follow us.” He followed as they asked. They created me, he realized. They led him to a table, on it was some kind of large hammer, and when he tried to pick it up, it felt extremely light

“This weapon of battle is yours, and your abilities as one of our many Jorags will come soon.” He once again fell into a slumber and woke on the streets of Tunguska. He thought it was a dream, until he found the hammer. Then, a splitting headache came over him, and he looked at a car on the other side of the street. It blew up, shards of metal flew toward him, but they stopped inches away. He under stood now what the strange people had said.

He has since then traveled the world searching for any evidence of what happened to his adoptive parents, along with discovering his surfacing abilities.

Originally Posted by Silver

Against my own better judgement...

Approved.

Hear is my first and only newbie character.

Name:Radkin Blade

Age:29

Race:human

Sex:male

Hair:brown(but wears a hood with what looks like a golden eagle on the back)

Eyes:green(but wears an eye mask)

Weight:170 lbs.

height: about 5' 9"

theme song(s):YouTube - DBZ - Blow Me Away
DBZ - Mortal Kombat - Vs. Broly

Weapons:Two 60 cal. side arms(enforcers)and a lightning katana that can deliver a 4,000 volt shock to its enemies. The charge can take up to 1 minute or more if hes weakened, up to 45 seconds if hes not injured, depending on his condition.


Armour:All Radkin has is leather Armour, leather shoulder plates that look like yellow hawks, thigh pads, and leather grieves.


Strengths: He's accurate with his firearms, and is efficient with his sword when enemies get in close range.

Weaknesses: He's a regular Human, who only wears leather armor. It allows him to move quickly, but doesn't offer outstanding protection.

Skills/magic: The quick draw. Whether it's his guns or his sword, he can go from pulling them out to aiming in less than two seconds. His reflexes are also better than most Humans.

Appearance: http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/c...7/MyUTskin.jpg

Personality: He is aggressive when fighting, as he likes to fight enemies. However, he doesn't show as much aggression towards friends. He loves to be in the thick of battle, but also helping his friends and making sure everyone gets out OK.

Background: Radkin had grown up in the smithing town of B'hatdvi, known locally for its large population consisting of warriors and smiths, Radkin was late to follow is the path line, enjoying to focus more on the dexterous tasks he set himself rather then the brute force his town was renowned for. Later into his teenage years, he had finally taken to the sword, and under immense training through his father and sparring with his younger brother, became quickly accustomed to using his sword like an additional limb on his body.
Although his advances in the use of a sword was incredible, he still lacked the same brunt force that almost every opponent had against him, unfortunately for him the ways he had been taught in how to use this deadly limb with only brunt force, so he occluded to practice with himself and any inanimate object he could find to try more complex and slight of hand tricks.
The tax of blood and sweat payed of at his next practice match. He was challenged by Marson, although not one of the highest ranking throughout his town, he knew if he beat him it would propose to people that he might be more of a threat than people originally thought.
As this was only a town friendly, only wooden swords were allowed, so neither competitor could fatally wound their combatant.
As Marson entered the temporary arena, he gloated to all the crowd how easily a match this would be, and was even contemplating to fight with an arm behind his back, and he agreed to do so as numbers bets stating that he would win with even with only one arm came through rapidly. As the match started the bets soon had to be payed back, as within five seconds Radkin had already forced his opponent to duel wield his sword, his speed and dexterity with the sword was so unlike any other fighter that was in the surrounding area, his immense speed also brought a few gasps out of the crowd. Even if Manson had an obvious strength advantage, with bulging biceps and calf's, it was impossible to block of all of Radkin's constant and numerous blows. He felt like three people were simultaneously bombarding him, rather then one. It wasn't long until Radkin's foreign offense had demolished his enemy.
A moment of silence followed by a cacophony of cheer from the gathered crowds brought a sarcastic smile to Radkin, the public had always approved of an underdog winning. As soon as he was allowed by the crowds, he decided to tell his parents of his friendly battle, and just as he had hoped, his parents were exhilarated by their first son's late victory, and his father seemed to have a few accidental "winnings" of it, his eagerness to find out what he had earned were obviously creeping into his features, and what he saw stunned him as much as he did upon the crowd yet minuets before.
A large curved katana and two awkwardly shaped objects was his newfound property. Radkin knew how to use this brilliantly designed sword, but he decided to ask what these two other items were.
"ah of course" his father began, "these two jewels will probably seem very foreign to you, as no one is generally allowed to waggle 'em around in public. Very dangerous weapons these."
his son's first instinct on this was that they were some sort of blunt clubs filled with the magic these smiths could infuse into them, although that was not the case, as he was told when he was expecting the wooden panel in front of them to burst into flames, or a manner of other mystical things.
"no no, you don't use them like that. They are projectile weapons." information his father passed onto him.
"so were are the projectiles to use?" Radkin said, surprised that his father would let him loose on something like this, and not worry to see his son shoot himself in the foot.
"The environment is your projectile. Here let me show you this, pass me that."
The old man proceeded to flip up what seemed to be an extra compartment into the weapon, and there stood alone was a small hollow cylinder, supported by metal beams.
"you can use this to make "bullets" to fit in here." he opened another part of the object "here, try it with this piece of wood, put it that first part, no make sure its straight, thats it, now put it down that second part. Thats called a barrel." After some failed attempts a smallish lecture occurred to teach Radkin about this new weapon.

Now some years later, after practicing with this gun as much as his sword, and in the varying techniques he did, he is known well throughout the local region as an expert marksman and sword wielder, and at such a young age. Although he knows within himself that there will be much more challenging opponents, even some taking on his style of fighting outside of his region, and has proceeded further out of his homelands in such of his own propriety and wealth in somewhere foreign, and even to make tavern stories of old about a Warriors and Smithies town up north.

Journal log intry: Story of how I beat the tournament.

I had once entered a tournament, back in my time line.
It was a big competition with all sorts of people, criminals and psychos enrolled in the tourney to stay out of prison, some civilians, war veterans and soldiers, aliens, and me. I enrolled for the prize money, which ended up bringing me here, and the grand title of defeating Xan Kreigor. You see, starting in the year 2291, which is when the tournament and deathmatch were first formed, to 2341, when three more types entered the tournament, domination, assault, and capture the flag.((Technically six))
There was a lot of violence during that time, so the Liandri corp. devised the tourney to cut down the violence, but they gained so much during that time, money and places for the tournament to be faught, and all that. Anyway, on with the tournament.

First match: Blake.
A newbie fighter, just like me. I don't know his story, but I do know that he was indeed easy. However, I did make a couple of slip ups, he managed to gain a frag on me, and in case your wondering, a frag is a kill or point. But it was only a 10 frag match. And through it all I advanced pretty quickly. ((Average difficulty xD)) I think I did rather well, only did two rematches... until I got to HIM!

Final match: Xan Kreigor. ((http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/c...XanKreigor.jpg))
What a sneaky bastard he was... oh, how I hated him! -.-'
He was stronger, faster, and tougher than me at the time. His favourite weapon seemed to be the flak cannon. He would annoy the hell outta me in so many ways... for one, he would come right up to me with his flak cannon and blast me right in the face with it, he would run straight for the cloaking device or sheild belt, and all I would have is a flak cannon of my own, a minigun or even a rocket launcher... at times he'd even attak me when I had nothing but my two enforcers here. *Grabs an enforcer on his hip and stare at the ground for a few seconds* Anyway, it was to no avail. *Lets out a forced chuckle* I had to fit him four times! I kept coming back and he seemed more than happy to take me. But this fight, it seemed to be going alot better, oddly enough, however, he had 14 frags to my 8, but IT hit me, I devised the ultimate plan that would save my ass... first, pick up a rocket launcher, load it up to max holding capacity, 48 rockets, stay around the shield belt and health viles((+5 health per, also increases max health by 5 per, max of 199)), minor help, but they got me through it. I kept stacking frags after that, he was getting fraustrated, I was getting excited! And finally to finish him, I used the flak cannon, and I won, 15 to 14, closest and hardest match in the whole tournament ever.((http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/c...07/OMFGO0o.jpg))
So, I took the prize money and title and went to someone who majored in timetravel/interdimensional travel.... However, it was expensive, but I didn't care. I just wanted to get away from it all. After coming here, I took up the study of the sword and practiced on my sword fighting and lightning/electricity manipulation and learned how to surge it through the sword and later I learned how to not just charge it, but how to blast it. A couple of months after that I came to this tavern/inn/bar and encountered you guys.

I must admit, it'll still take awhile to get used to this magic and telepathy business. ^_^;
But, I'll manage. I must say, It's a hell of alot more peaceful here!

Keigo Reisato a.k.a "Flame Demon"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Approve on my first attempt.

Name: Keigo Reisato a.k.a "Flame Demon"

Age: 19

Race: Half Human Half Elf

Sex: Male

Hair: Blood Red

Eyes: Light Green

Weight: 175 lbs (US Customary)

Height: 6' 1" (US Customary)

Weapon: Flame Demon wields a sword named "Red Glory" It's a sword that Flame Demon has to have and is the base of many of his attacks. Red Glory can light up in flames and can split into 2 daggers that can be covered in flames. Red Glory is a Blood Red Sword that about 2 1/2feet long. When it splits into Daggers,they are about 15 inches long. It also has a message inscribed on Red Glory saying "Melancholy". It is currently unknown why it is on there.

Armor:

Strengths: Flame Demon is fantastic at close range,hand-to-hand combat. He can use his sword or daggers. He is truly legendary in that aspect. He can defend well against other swords and blade-like weapons. Keigo has a few decent long-range attacks as well,but prefers clsoe-combat. Keigo's speed is decent,but he's no track star.

Weakness: Flame Demon has okay long-range attacks but has poor defense against them. He can evade a few of them,but can't take too many hits from them. So if he was to go against an archer,unless he can get close range,he would have a hard time.

Skills/Magic: Flame Demon can use Long-Range attacks such as "Flaming Fireball" which is a somewhat basic fireball he fires at enemies.

Flame Demon can ues "Phoenix Fist" Which turns his fists in to flames and he punches his enemies and to melt locks off of doors.

Flame Demon can use "Hellfire Blade" to turn his sword or daggers on fire and attack his foes. This is his most widely used attack and his favorite ability.

Flame Demon can use his strongest attack called "Eruption of 1000 deaths"
Which is when his body gets covered in flames and just erupts off of him,scorching everything within a 15-mile radius.

HOWEVER, Keigo can only use this IF it is absolutely necessary. Using this attack is extremely rare and Keigo will almost die after he uses it and must stay hidden for at least 2-4 weeks to regain his strength. He also can no longer fight in a battle after he uses it. This attack is what earned him the nickname "Flame Demon"

Appearance: Flame Demon has spiky blood red hair that is no more than about 4 inches high. He has 2 silver earrings in both of his pointed ears. He wears a White T-Shirt with a Red phoenix on it. We wears a Black Leather vest over his T-shirt. Keigo has a light athletic build and his cuts can be seen through his shirt. (Note: Cuts as in ripped muscles, not scarred skin.)

Personality:Keigo has a calm personality,that can be come fierce in an instant. He has thing for attaractive girls/women. Keigo is a strong-willed person who sticks to his word. He may seem like a tough person,he's really a big softie. Keigo is known to be highly intellegent. He has an IQ of 165 and got into one of the world's most prestigous universities but later dropped out.

Biography: Keigo Reisato was born on the Japanese island Hokkaido. Keigo had both of his parents at home for about 16 years of his life. Keigo has a brother and sister,but their current whereabouts are unknown. (They will be BA characters in a few months from now.) Keigo hd quite a few friends who all except 1 were killed on a fateful day. His one surviving friend, named Misumi,still lives in Hokkaido and is visited by Keigo before and After his adventure. Keigo's family was fairly wealthy. His father,a video game designer and his mother,the owner of a sushi company. Keigo had many privleges during the first 16 years of his life. Keigo once had a dog,but it too was killed on that fateful day. Keigo isn't very religous but is lnown to have some faith in Christianity.

Keigo's began his adventure after that fateful day. One day Kiego's life was changed forever. It all startd when Keigo came home from school,his father had a sad look on his face Keigo asked his father what had happened, and told him the sad news. Keigo learned that his mother was killed in an airplane explosion and his brother and sister were on that flight,accompaning their mother on a business trip and their bodies were nowhere to be found,so they were assumed to be dead.

After his mother's funeral,Keigo inherited his mother's company,while Keigo ran the company,their stocks all dropped sharply and the company went bankrupt. Keigo and his father had their mansion foeclosed all of their cars had to be sold and their funds emptied to py off all of their debt. Leaving keigo and his father homeless. Keigo and his father wandered from shelter to shelter until one day,while Keigo was sleeping in the homeless shelter,his father disappeared and left a note that said: "Keigo,when you read this letter I'll be long gone. When you master this sword,come and find me. you are the only one who can truly master that sword. In case you didn't know,I'm an elf. That's the real reason why you have pointed ears. Go live with your friend Misumi's family,they will take you in."

Under that note,was "Red Glory" the sword that his father left him. Keigo immediately left for Misumi's house. That wasn't the end of his toubles though. 2 years later Keigo and Misumi graduated from High School and were admitted in Hokkaido university, one of the world's most prestigous schools. Keigo dropped out 3 months into the school year after that fateful day.

On that Fateful day, Keigo's dog Yoko,had finally returned to him. Keigo was excited that day and started training. Keigo had learned all of his abilities except one and that was "Eruption of 1000 deaths" Keigo just couldn't get it. So then Keigo had focus all of energy throughout his entire body. Then Keigo felt his body suddenly feel as if he was burning then it returned to normal. When he opened his eyes, he saw that the entire area was in flames. He heard the sreams of people. They were the most horrific screams he ever heard. He ran throughout the town and saw people dead on the street. The smell of burning flesh sickened him. His dog was dead and nothing more thean ashes and bones.

Keigo found out that most of his friends were dead., all except Misumi,who was in the basement whenit all happened. Keigo knew what he did and bursted into tears. He knew why it was called that. he just killed 1000 people. Keigo later learned that nearby campers who were severly burned but survived,said that Keigo looked "Demonic" when he was covered in flames. Thus being known as "Flame Demon"

Keigo crawled into a cave by the beach and laied there for about 3 weeks. He then dropped out of school to began his search for his father.

Keigo does have the ability to kill others,and sometimes won't hesitate to do so.

Keigo is considered to be an easy going person.
Keigo likes beautiful women/girls. He also like Sushi and Donuts. Keigo enjoys sports and a good challenge. Keigo never admits it,but he has talent in sewing as well.

Keigo doesn't really have anything special anymore

Keigo normally treats everybody with kindness,but he also treats others the same way they treat him.

Keigo's only goal is to find his father. Keigo currently doesn't have any dreams.


Keigo has fully realised the risk of death and is fully prepared to die if he has to. He has nothing to lose and everything to gain.

First character. Go me.

---------

Name: “Lord of the Hunt”, Jaeger Chasse

Age: 27

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Hair: Black, medium-length hair, swept to one side so that it nearly but doesn't cover one eye.

Eyes: Green.

Weight: 160 lbs.

Height: 6 ft.

Weapon:

His primary weapon is a steel scimitar, which he prefers to use 90% of the time in combat. However, he holds different blades for various occasions; he has two short swords (think of the Roman gladius), three throwing daggers, and a bow, with arrows in a quiver around his back.

Armor:

Jaeger uses hard leather painted black as his primary armor; in addition, on his forearms, shoulders, and knees, he has modest iron plating strapped on, also painted black.

Strengths:

Jaeger loves to call himself "Lord of the hunt", and for no small reason.

To start off, he is adept at swordplay. Though his scimitar is his favorite weapon, he is more than willing to use his others if the former becomes unavailable for any reason. He can wield his two short swords, one in each hand, with relative efficiency, and he has superb aiming with his throwing knives. His skill with his bow is rudimentary at best, however; he could use it to shoot at an unsuspecting foe (as he loves to do), perhaps, but his arrows are neither powerful nor his aim true enough that he would try to win a fight with only them remaining.

Jaeger is no stranger to concealing himself from enemy eyes. In fact, this may be his most valuable skill of all. Because he isn't encumbered by heavy armor or weaponry, he can generally cut and run from any slower opponents, and/or try to slip away through the shadows or nearby environment. Because of his ability to stay motionless and completely quiet, he doesn’t have a hard time with this.

Also, he is particularly powerful in any wooded areas; the trees and bushes give him plenty of hiding places, and he is very experienced in some hunting ‘techniques’ that can only be applied in such areas. He can use simple traps that are usually applied to smaller animals, but can still be handy against humans if used correctly (something like this).

Weakness:

To rehash what I have already mentioned/hinted: Jaeger uses light armor providing himself little protection. His skill with the sword is above average but not legendary, his skill with the bow and arrow only decent/mediocre. He is lean, but not strong. Though Jaeger is not without -some- magical ability (seen below), he has little to defend himself when it comes to the supernatural.

In addition to this, while he holds an advantage in the forest and in many cramped or varied settings (cities, swamp, etc), in flat, plain battleground, he will usually be at a disadvantage. Jaeger’s greatest strength is his ability to use his environment against his foe; when there is nothing but flatland, this advantage is taken away and he must rely on his secondary fighting skill, swordplay.

Skills/Magic:

Jaeger does have one simple spell that he dabbles in. He has the ability to call nature from the soil, rapidly growing vines or branches that he can use for various things, though most notably ensnaring the legs of his pray. They are not invulnerable, of course, but if given enough effort the vines he grows can be rather thick and difficult to either cut or dislodge in a timely fashion. His limit on this spell is simply his energy; creating something as large as the average tree in one go would leave him exhausted, while trying to create a small forest would very easily kill him before he even got started. Also, obviously, he cannot use this on anything but soil.

Appearance:

Jaeger is sort of emo-looking. He’s lean, not muscular, has black hair swept to one side, and wears all black. His skin is somewhat pale, due to lack of sunlight.

Personality:

Jaeger has a very realistic outlook on life that keeps consistent with his predatory theme; we live, we struggle to keep living, and we ultimately die. There is nothing more of importance to the human life-form than these three things. At the surface, Jaeger is simply a cold-hearted sociopath who cares little should he or another die, as in his eyes it is just nature at work.

When Jaeger isn’t engaged in his favorite activity of hunting/killing things, he is a distant human who truly laments the fact that he cannot integrate himself into society. Though he would try to hide it, he can be a very loyal and trusting type to those who earn his respect.

In terms of temperament, Jaeger is usually very calm and collected, especially when being taunted by his ‘prey’. However, if the people he is loyal to are threatened or harmed, his “Lord of the Hunt” mask falls off and his tendencies to feel victimized and foolishly loyal appear.

Biography:

Jaeger Chasse grew up with a normal life in a small village of the north (north of what, I haven’t really figured out yet). When he was about 18-19, he became a merchant’s apprentice and hopped aboard a caravan taking a very new route carved through uncivilized land. However, somewhere between his home and the caravan’s destination, it was ambushed by a group of forest-dwelling bandits; everything of value was taken, and everyone but Jaeger (who was somehow mistaken as dead) was slaughtered.

Jaeger spent the next few months of his life undergoing a huge transformation in the vast forests. With no one to help him, and only the small knife that he brought with him to use, he slowly journeyed on foot through vast expanses of forest trying to find his way home. Half-starved and always exhausted, Jaeger was nearly killed by these woods half a dozen times, but this journey would define who he was for the rest of his life.

When he finally reached his home village, he was 20 and completely different from the young adult who left. He shed all of his excess fat, and was, to say the least, skilled at tracking and hunting. His view of life had changed forever; life was something that could be taken away at any moment, and had to be fought with every ounce of energy just to cling to.

When he returned, he learned that his mother had been murdered, and with his new outlook on life and his father’s heavy grief, his father and he grew very far apart, though Jaeger never truly detached from his parents. The next few years of his life involved him wandering around on foot, stealing as his source of money and food. Over time his weapon skills were honed by multiple encounters with city thugs and such, and though he can hardly remember where the transition occurred, Jaeger began to get employed as an assassin, paid to knock off anyone and everyone for a price.

Now, at the age of 27, Jaeger isn’t the only one to call himself “Lord of the Hunt”. In fact, more people know him by this nick-name than they do by his actual name “Jaeger”. From wandering thief to sought-after assassin, Jaeger has slowly become a fully functional sociopath. Everyone's dream career is doing what they love, right?

Battles:

Needs of the Few (Maro, in progress)

OoC: Presenting my second character.

___


Maloe, the princess fairy.
Maloe, perferably.

Rumored to have a split personality, which has the alias of 'Maya Hoshii', which is the name of her deceased twin sister.

Age:
Eons, perhaps? She's been floating - flying, rather - for many, many centuries. It's hard to say. She's far from immortal... just keeps young in her elderly years.

Race:
She's a fairy - giving off the appearance of it, one can only assume as such.

A fairy (also fay, fey, fae, faerie; collectively, wee folk, good folk, people of peace, and other euphemisms) is the name given to a type of mythological being or legendary creature, a form of nature spirit, often described as metaphysical, supernatural or preternatural.

Sex:
Being a princess, it's safe to say she's of the female sort.

Hair:
Black, tasseled head of wavy hair, mixed in with natural highlights of curls. It's normally coated with that wonderful glow that every fairy emits, so it doesn't really look black - more grayish white mix.

Eyes:
Her eyes are relatively too small to see properly, but she does have them coloured. Maghony with a fogged glint of gold.

Weight:
With the normal characteristics of most fairies, she would hope to be lighter than a feather, but really, she weighs in at about five pounds.

Height:
She's larger than your average fairy to. She's about five and half inches tall.

Weapon:
Laugh and snort if you will, but her weapon of choice is an awkwardly large match stick. It's a bit more special than your everyday fire starter, for it can be lit, blown out, and re lit again, as many times as you'd like. It's length is about seven inches, and it's width is about five millimeters. It's supposed to be her source of magical enchantment, but who really knows?

Strengths:
She's uncrushable - literally. You can step on her all you'd like, but you can't crush her, as you would a bug. She has bones as strong as diamonds, flesh even. That's her main strength; some secondary strengths would be her ability to concentrate considerably well, and her ability to watch someone make a physical movement, and copy it to the exact tissue movement. Some say it's magic - but it's just her nature.

Weakness:
She albsolutely cannot stand up to the element of ice; that includes the elemental magic as well. She's as impatient as it gets, and can easily be triggered to an overheated air bag. She's over sensitive as well, and can go blind in rage if she's inticed.

Skills/Magic:

Basic Elemental Magic: Your basic elements fire, water, earth, wind, light, etc - except for ice. She's not so good with that one.

Caregiver: She calls it that, but it's not an actual name for it. Whoever she decides to follow, or cling to, she gives to them, special powers. Like a sixth sense type of deal, with the ability to sense when most supernatural things are happening around the receiver. There's more to it, apparently, but she hasn't been around someone long enough to see what she's capable of.

Appearance:
Maloe stands, and flies with a body nearly reaching six inches. Her black hair, when played with properly by the glowing that emits from her body, looks silver, and falls over her tiny shoulders that shine with a pallid complexion. She wears a full body suit of iron, looking muchly like a tiny knight that you'd get in a playset - she's been mistaken as one, many times. The suit or armour is tipped with red on the sleeves and random patterns are set across her chest and back, as far as she is concerned, there is no significance behind it. Her face is heart shaped, and her cheeks are rosy; her hands are squared and she has a strong grip. Maloe, in the jist of it, looks like a fairy knight - as queer as that sounds.

Personality:
Big headed, impatient, quick to anger, Maloe (as small as she is) is a force to be reckoned with. She's not an arse by any means, but rather sweet inside and ready to fight for the better good (which can only be described in her mind), but if you push the wrong buttons, she'll detonate, and it could mean the end. She's rumored to have a split personality, but it's hard to say.

Biography:

"Father?" A tiny voice squeaked, followed by the faint sound of little wings fluttering, rapidly, "What's the matter?"

"You're sister." Her dad spoke, his voice shaking emotionally, "She's de...

Maloe grew up with a medium sized family; parents, a twin sister and an older brother. The only different part being the twin sister - that wasn't normally concidental in most cases.

However, her life started to change slightly after the death of her twin sister, said to be approximately five thousand eons ago. Her father and mother approached her several months after the passing and confronted her, telling her about the new future she was bestowed with. She was hesitate at first, but the vibrant words they used to describe left her aching to jump into it, indulge it.

Her twin sister, Maya Hoshii, was to go out, to be a Caregiver, which is an aid to a human being of true and right intentions in the world. The word Caregiver was given to the task, it's not actually what it's referred to as - what's it really referred to, is very much still a mystery. Upon the death of Maya, her powers where discovered thriving inside of Maloe, who, when born, showed no true talent, except to be a scribe, or a mother, daresay.

When her kingdom discovered this, they shot accusations at her, blaming her for the death of her sister, which sent her into a pit of depression. She questioned her parents, and they simply answered her, "If you have this destiny, it was obviously meant to be."

Maloe soon left the care of her mother and kingdom, to begin her task, which she still continues to do, millions of eons later; her kingdom long gone, and her princess title just a figment of her imagination.

Approved by my good friend Honor.

Name: Frey of the High Blades. (True surname unknown)

Age: 27

Race: Human.

Sex: Male

Hair: Somewhat short, scruffy. It’s also orange.

Eyes: Greenish bluish.

Weight: 160 lbs.

Height: 5’10 (This is roughly 178 centimeters.)

Weapon: Frey carries a dagger and a shortsword at his side. The dagger is rather old, but has maintained a deadly sharp edge and point; it is very personal to Frey, due to details in the history. The shortsword is one of fine, expensive steel with a diamond sheathe that was given to him by his superiors when he was inducted into the High Blades.

Frey also carries many special weaponry berries that he likes to call “Tots.” Tots come in varying colors, and are activated by putting them in one’s mouth and crunching on them. Upon spitting them out, they transform into a weapon (based upon the color of the berry) and amplify the force at which they were spit out of the mouth, sending them flying. Some of the weapons the berries create include (but aren’t limited to) spears, arrowheads, thrown-axes, maces, and clubs.

Strengths: Being an assassin, Frey’s reflexes are very adept. His speed is also a very good thing to keep in mind. Also, his reaction time is fairly quick—if something bad is happening and Frey doesn’t have much time to react, he doesn’t have too much trouble thinking up a solution.

Weakness: Frey can be forgetful, which can lead to him leaving crucial spots open when fighting. He also is not very good at fighting in closed spaces. His training hones him to use small, intricate movements when working in closed spaces while on assassin jobs, but those intricate movements help very little in battle. He also has a bad habit of underestimating people, especially those he's mad at.

Skills/Magic: Frey does not use magic at this time.

Appearance: Frey is of average height, and is somewhat thin, but nowhere near skinny. He does have a good bit of muscle on him, it just doesn’t show that well. He has greenish-bluish eyes and orange hair, and a goatee of the same color. He wears a light tan vest, brown pants, and can normally be seen wearing a dark green cloak.

Personality: Frey’s a very self-centered person. He’s concerned about his goals, his achievements, and where what he’s doing will end him up. He generally tries to distance himself from others, and therefore has few friends. If he doesn’t find you a complete waste of time, which generally he will, you might have a shot at becoming one, however. But don’t get your hopes up too soon, though. He’s not very trusting.

Biography: Frey was born in the capital city of the land of Adrafàn, called Raidenphar. Living there was short lived, however, as soon after his birth his parents moved to the southern city of Haem. It was this move that sparked the chain of events that would lead Frey towards the life of an assassin.

Taking their life savings with them, Frey’s parents took themselves and their newborn son to Haem, which was fabled as the land’s most rapidly-growing port and center for business. Sadly, rumors have a nasty habit of not being entirely true. The port of Haem was indeed growing, but it was also attracting a number of dark and ill-omened people. The city had evolved into a hangout for thieves, rapists, and those hiding from the law.

Even still, Frey’s father insisted that he must get a job in this city, and that there were safer parts of town. They found one little area that seemed a bit more well-off than the rest, and decided to settle there. However, sure enough, the baddies on the other side of town were not entirely exclusive to that side, and within a week of living there, Frey’s father was mugged. Even though he survived, the family lost almost all of their savings, sending them into a monetary crisis; Frey’s father had yet to find a job.

It was in this that Frey began to be raised in a household that supported thievery. After all, they wouldn’t be able to eat if they didn’t. Frey’s father got turned down job after job, and there was nowhere left for the family to go. Frey’s parents stole from the market when they went out, and on more than one occasion they were very nearly caught—half the time with Frey in his mother’s arms!

Eventually, by the time Frey was 5, his father had found a very low-paying job with long hours. Because of this, Frey did not get to spend much time with his father, and his mother wasn’t much better. The past few years of monetary disaster had truly damaged her psyche, and she began to care less and less about the little boy she needed to feed, spending most of her time in imaginary worlds inside her head. So, Frey spent most of his time out on the streets with orphans of the port. He stole, he cursed, and he grew up becoming an all-around delinquent.

One day, however, when Frey was 12, he came home to find his mother dead on the floor. A dagger was in her hand, and Frey could see that her throat and right wrist was slit. Unable to deal with any more of the stress she had felt over the past decade, his mother had killed herself. Doing all that he knew, Frey grabbed the dagger and ran as fast as he could to his father’s workstation and told him the story. After the event had subsided, Frey kept the dagger on his person at all times.

Over the next three years, Frey’s father changed drastically. He fell into deep depression and alcoholism, and frequently lashed out at Frey for no apparent reason. One cold evening when Frey was 15, his father came home dressed in a big cloak with a pack on his side. He said, “I’m going on a ship,” and turned around, walking outside into the night. That was the last Frey ever saw of his father.

Now spending the entirety of his time either with the orphans or on his lonesome, Frey had no way to get food but to steal even more than usual. Normally he would hardly attract any attention at all, but one day, he decided to be bold. On the second story of a meat shop, there lay a golden baked ham cooling in the window. Knowing that what he was about to do was incredibly risky, Frey positioned himself on a box, and jumped up to a canopy that juxtaposed a railing system that went around the building. Quickly as could be, he followed the railings over to the back of the building, out of sight. Slightly above him was the ledge of an open window—using all his might, Frey jumped up and grabbed the ledge, pulling himself into the second story building.

Coincidentally, he happened to land in the same room as the ham. Licking his lips, he approached it and pulled it off the plate…

…just as the butcher slammed into the room. Shocked, Frey stuffed the ham under his arm and ran from the meaty butcher. (Tee hee. Meaty butcher.) He jumped out the window the ham had been cooling on, and tore straight through the canopy below, landing forcefully in a cart of vegetables.

Not without pain, Frey regained his composure and got out of the cart, running as fast as his legs would carry him from the building. He went around several bends, until he finally relaxed in a dark alleyway safe and far away. However… just as he smiled at his accomplishment and was about to take a big bite into the ham he so deserved, he felt arms wrap around his back, and a club whack his temple.

When he awoke, he was in a room with two chairs—the one he was sitting in, and another across from it, in which sat a regally-robed man. He asked Frey several personal questions, until finally explaining that he had been taken to the headquarters of the Assassin’s Guild. They had seen his agility and prowess in the town, and decided they might recruit him if he wanted to learn (trust me, I'm not trying to do some cliché "assassin boy prodigy" thing, here. This is how the guild selects its members; looking in cities for boys and girls of exceptional agility and reflexes). If he did not wish to learn, they gave him the offer of being blindfolded—so as to not reveal the location of the headquarters—and taken back to Haem.

Frey, realizing he had nothing better to live for in Haem, agreed to join the guild. He was put through rigorous tests right from the get-go, all of which tested his speed, endurance, and agility. He was taught how to use weaponry berries that he liked to call “Tots,” and quickly learned how to use his dagger with deadly skill. There was also training for him that involved the sword, spear, and bow, but not nearly as much.

Over the next decade, Frey did all he could to make himself strong so that he might feel better about himself. Upon the evaluation of one of his many, many test assassinations, the leaders of the Assassin’s Guild, known as the Highest Blades, decided to change Frey’s status. At the age of 26, they inducted him into the sect of some of the strongest and most prestigious assassins in the guild, known as the High Blades. Upon this induction, he was given a beautifully crafted shortsword with a diamond sheath.




So far, not much has happened to Frey since his induction into the High Blades. Keep in mind, though, that he does not always stay in the headquarters of the guild. In fact, he wanders around the countryside on his holidays more often than not. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet your end at his blade some day.

Battle Rank
Player: Safer
Character: Frey of the High Blades
Innate Element: N/A
Overall Rank: VI
Strength: VI
Speed: VIII
Elemental: N/A
Skill: VII

Name: Serpent; it is doubtful that anyone but him remembers his true name, and if they did, they would not dare to utter it, for fear of his wrath.

Age: Unknown

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Hair: Blonde

Eyes: Green

Weight: 193 lbs

Height: 6' 2"

Weapon: He carries a blade that looks like three intertwining snakes. The first one's body forms the blade, with its head at the very end of the handle. The second two are wrapped around the other in a handgrip fashion, with their heads forming the hand guards. The handle is made out of a green metal, and the blade is steel. The sheath he carries at his side is the same metal as the handle, and looks like the body of the first snake

Armor: A green, full body, snake skin jumpsuit. The hood looks like a snake's head, with his face looking out of the mouth. He wears brown boots and gauntlets. It can stop an arrow, and is fire-proof and water-proof

Strengths: Very fluid fighting style, making him hard to hit. Great at planning ambushes.

Weakness: If an ambush fails, he is often left exposed, and he is not particularly fast or strong. When he is Half-Snake, he is clumsy with his sword, and tends not to use it. When he gets angy, he often does things he regrets later.

Skills/Magic:
Transform: Serpent has three forms. His human one, a full snake one, and his human form with a snake's head. To transform into his half-snake, the hood comes alive and bites down on his head, which disappears. To transform to full snake, the same thing happens and then his arms fuse to his sides, and he grows to 35' long. In Full-snake and half-snake, he can also spit venom.

Constrictor Slash: The blade of his sword transforms into a snake's tail, which can wrap around an opponent and squeeze until they pass out. Cannot be used to kill.

Serpent's Summon: The blade of the sword glows gold, and he plunges it into the ground. This calls all snakes within a half mile radius to attack a specific opponent. This is obviously more effective in some places than others.

Appearance: Aside from his clothing, nothing is particularly unusual about Serpent. He has green eyes and blonde hair, an average height and build, and a normal face. In Half-Snake and Full-Snake forms, he is a giant Green Mamba.

Personality: Serpent never lets his emotions show on his face, in his voice, or in his fighting style, but only in his actions. He gets angry quite easily, and people who make him angry don't often survive unscathed. He seems ruthless and cold hearted, and he is.

Biography: Serpent's past is shrouded in mystery, to both himself and others. Behind a certain point in his memory, he remembers only snatches of his past. The farthest back he can remember clearly is waking up in a torture chamber, with a man standing over him, saying that he was “his little snake.” When he heard this, Serpent instinctively activated Full-Snake and killed the man. He assumes he did not have his snake powers before this.

Upon escaping from the chamber, he set out to make a name for himself. He forged his beautiful sword, and started hiring himself out as a body guard, but no one seemed to trust him, so now he travels the lands aimlessly, until he found the Dome. Once inside, he stayed there, with no intention of leaving.

His full past is this: Serpent's uncle, who had a fascination with snakes, always had a life-long dream of fusing a human with a snake. However, he needed a child, as it was easier to fuse animals to children than with adults. When his brother had a child, the uncle greatly desired to be able to experiment on the child. The uncle's brother (Serpent's father) flatly refused.

After two years, the father had forgotten about his brother's obssesion, and when he received an invatation to stay with the uncle, he took the whole family. Upon their arrival, the uncle killed Serpent's parents, and started experimenting on Serpent, erasing his memory and linking his powers to the snake skin armor he had made. Then one day, he found that Serpent had grown too powerful to control, and was killed by Serpent. This is one of the first things Serpent can remember.

Name: Anoch Kaban (This is an alias; his real name will be given to certain people at my discretion for story-building purposes. Other than that...totally unimportant)

Age: 36

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Appearance: 6'2, lean. Black hair falling to his shoulders, a well kept beard. His eyes are dark, which compliments his Khari (More or less Arabian) complexion. He has a few scars on his chest and arms, but nothing defining. He typically wears the crimson robe and tunic, trimmed of course in cloth-of gold and with ivory cusps and buttons, that is the standard attire of a middling Khari Tarkaan or Varonas. On the busy streets of New Uzer or Al Kharid, he is nothing special.

Equipment: A Tarkaan's scimitar, named Anakmed, is his primary weapon. Nothing special here; typical scimitar. Enchanted so as to be sharper, stronger, and lighter, certainly...but such things are common among the nobility. He carries with him a short broad-leaf blade (Think Greek sword), similarly enchanted. A dagger for desperate attacks, and a small knife for practical uses. His buckler is also enchanted to withstand most attacks, as well as deflect magical attacks directed at him (A fireball isn't a target-specific spell, so he'd be crisped). Some light ring mail under his robes, enchanted for strength and lightness. Nothing special.

Really, there is only one "unique" item in his possession. A black sapphire that absorbs and negates all magic and "free energy" in a 40 foot radius, for about ten minutes. This includes the enchantments on his own equipment. This means that spells cannot be cast in this area, and any magic or spell that would effect this area...doesn't. This includes skills or innate abilities that don't have a chemical/biological explanation; a dragon could still breathe fire, and do pretty much everything except for fly or cast spells. I assume you get the idea, so I'll move on.

Strengths: Anoch is a good swordsman, fairly limber and strong. He is highly intelligent and calculating. Confident and persuasive. He is also fairly well off, monetarily. He's a Noble.

Weakness: Physical weakness? He's realistic. He can be killed in millions of ways. Character flaws, though...he's arrogant. Sometimes he gets ahead of himself. Enjoys his pipe and his women a bit too much for his own good.

Skills/Magic: He's good with a sword. He can talk his way out of (or into) most anything or anyone, if he can get people to listen to him.

Personality: Calm and collected, a socialite. Generally a likeable guy. Clever. He is very confident in his abilities, even arrogant, though he doesn't give the impression of that flaw. Simply a man who thinks he can do more than he actually can...and who quietly thinks he's better than most. At times, he can be quite obsessive, ambitious...at others he is carefree and foolish. He has been known to stumble into his house in the early morning, held up by drink or pipe or woman, on more than a few occasions.

Biography: Anoch Kaban was born under a different name (which few know; again, withheld for story reasons). His father was a minor noble in Cacarta when Tethyrin Redcloak and his army of constructs swept through the deserts. When the conqueror came to Cacarta, the fighting was brief and the port town fell easily. Tethyrin was a fair ruler, constantly improving the town...but the nobles were miffed at his strong presence and authority. A revolt ensued when Anoch was fourteen years old, and was quickly put down...his father changed his name and fled with his family rather than be executed.

The family took up residence in Sophanem, taken in by a family friend. A few years later, they bought their own estate in neighboring Menaphos. Anoch Kaban joined Tethyrin's army when he came of age at nineteen, and commanded a small force that played a minor role in the siege of Al Kharid. For his part in the battle, he was given the rank of Tarkaan, and an estate in New Uzer. After the Abyssal War, he retired from his military post and took up an interest in government. He moved back to Cacarta and worked with magisterial tedium for a few years. He grew bored quickly, and turned again to the military when four Tenolith soulworkers and a handful of Mazolith manes (disaffected remnants of the Legion) turned up, leading a small force of warrior-slaves in Anamen. To defeat the Tenoliths and their powerful magic, Tethyrin gave Kaban a Black Sapphire, one of many such gems created during the Abyssal War. Anoch used the stone, and his army quickly overwhelmed the Tenoliths, with Anoch slaying one of the demons himself. All in all, it was a minor affair, and he was maintained in the army for a few more years, and eventually served as Tethyrin's envoy to the Asgarnian Empire. Tethyrin was hoping that the worldwide alliance could be revived in order to clear the Legion from Karamja, Morytania, and Gu'Tannoth (After they were no longer a direct threat, the alliance fell apart), but the king was more concerned with rebuilding Falador and on a whole the effort failed. Returning home, Anoch had hopes of settling down with a family in New Uzer, but as of yet has not made any marital arrangements.

Of course, he is still a young man, and the gossip sweeping the city is that Varnassus the Great, Advisor of Tethyrin and administrator of the city of New Uzer, has recently discovered or created some sort of portal to other worlds...the possibilities for Anoch are as vast as the desert itself.

First character on ZU

Name: Selena
Age: 16
Race: Elf
Sex: Female
Hair: Shiny gold/blonde hair that falls down to her mid-back.
Eyes: Metallic Blue eyes
Weight: 114lb
Height: 5'5"

Weapon: She holds an abundance of weapons, but has the short sword and bow as her main weapons. Some other weapons she carries around are kunais, kusarigama, spells, and the usual bombs; like the regular ones, water bombs, and arrow bombs; and deku nuts for stunning someone.

Armor: She wears very little armor due to the fact she is light on her feet. The bits of armor she has on her is a light chain mail that is under her clothing and hand guards on both of her arms for the fact she is ambidextrous.

Strengths: Selena is good with far-ranged attacks, but will get close-ranged or even hand-to-hand combat. She is very quick with speed and is perfect for stealth attacks.

Weakness: Selena is prone to cold. She can bear with cold for awhile, but her body gets less flexible and she can't move as freely as she wishes to. During battle, she cannot hear everything that can go around her, so she could be attacked and she wouldn't know it was coming at all. She also has this fear of lightning and fire and could panic when she either hears or sees it.

Skills/Magic: Selena has few magic spells, but each are useful to her in many ways. One is healing. Depending on the wound, she can either fix it quickly or she has to take days to repair it.

Another is teleportation. She can only teleport herself, or another person to an area she has already seen and understand. Items can be teleportated as well. She can only teleport at least two times and depending on the situation or the thing/person she's teleporting, it can take alot of magic out of her.

The last is the ability to blend into the shadows. Though it isn't a spell to her, many people call it a spell and she has grown to say it's a spell than an ability. She can slip into a shadow and into another without people seeing her. The only down side to it is she can't hold it for long periods of time and if someone attacks the shadow she's in, she is visible to the enemy and will have to flee.

Selena is quite the acrobatic, but isn't frail as glass. She can jump off at an unusual hight and land perfectly fine on the ground. In addition to her lightfeet, she is flexible. She can slip between your legs and have a knife at your neck before you know it.

And as all elf have, are long ears. It's impossible for her to not notice someone sneaking behind her unless they're in the mist of battle where sound is everywhere.

Appearance: Selena wears boots, tunics, and all the stuff girls would back away from. Her face is rarly in a smile and scarcly laughs. Her shiny golden hair and metallic blue eyes give her a sharp look and many at first sight would most likely think of a soldier when they look at her face.

Thought she wears the stuff boys would usually wear, she will once in a while wear a plain and simple blue tunic and leather boots that she wears only on a spacific day which is a secret no one knows about.

Personality: Selena is a woman who only respects another if they respect her back. She is always to the point and takes things seriously. She doesn't dilly-dally around alot and only does when a situation is getting out of hand and she has time to think. She has a great respect to those who live in forest and the forest itself. She is very kind, thought you can't see it with her strict attitude towards people sometimes, but she has the ability to worry about people and there thoughts on what will happen next.

Biography: Selena was raised in Kokori Forest and never knew about her parents. She had never let that cross her mind as all children of the forest were actually born from the forest. She didn't have a fairy and thought she didn't need a guardian fairy to watch over her.

All her life in the forest, ever since she awoken and found herself inside the Lost Forest, she had always been the opposite of Kokori children. She was serious and never was to social. She did ocassonaly talk to the other children, but spent most of her time in the Lost Forest looking for a quite spot to sit in the grass or listen to the music of the forest.

On one of her strolls, she tripped and fell into a hole that lead to a fairy fountian. When she got closer to the water and saw all the fairies, a Great Fairy came out of the water and nearly made her scaried to death.

"Ah dear child, I thought you would fall in here one day as your mother told me," she said.

"Mother? I have no mother, I am a Kokori born from the forest," she replied with a bit of force.

"Ah, but you do, and they are the goddesses of Hyrule." Selena couldn't think straight for a moment that she was a child of the goddesses in a mortal body. "You are told by your mothers that you will assist the Hero of Time in his adventure until thee end. You must hurry though, he is on his way to leave the forest now." The Great Fairy sank back into the water and Selena tried her best to summon it back to ask more questions.

She never came back and she gave up after she knew she couldn't get her back. She left the forest and found she could leave the forest she knew as home for a long time. She began to spend most of her free time training herself in archery, stealth, and other ways to assist Link in his adventures.

Hauling them all into one post. :]

Erani - The sword wielding Midnight Centaur

Aviara - The Black Wing Archer

Ceto - Erani's Dark Centaur of a lover

Name:
-Sherra
-Phantom Sherra
-Red Phantom of the Night
-"thief!!!"

Age: ((Technically she is dead... )) 200 years old. (Died at age of 19)

Race: Human.../ Phantom?

Sex: Female

Hair: Since she is a phantom, she is.. and yet isn't quite dead. She can phase from one appearance to another. Similar... yet different. When she is in her ghost form, she has the inverse colors of her natural human form. Her human form's hair is red, and falls to about waist length. So her ghost form is the opposite on the color wheel and is green.

Eyes: Her eyes are green as a human, and phase to red when she is a ghost.

Weight: Around 120 pounds. ((Though.... she can be kind of weightless as a ghost... technicalities. ))

Height: 5'3"

Weapon: Sherra is very gifted with her hands, as a human, but when she is a ghost she can manage to lift objects for a short time. Her preferred weapon of choice though would be a dagger of aura-however, at her current level, she can only use this for very short bursts of time. Strategy would be perhaps one of her preferred weapons, as it can give her the upper hand over mere hacking and slashing.

Armor: Sherra doesn't really wear armor, however, she has the ability to phase things through her body (or phase through walls) but again, only for a short time, as it drains her energy.

Strengths: Sherra was an excellent thief when she was alive, and so as a ghost it only has made it easier... most days. Though with her new found phantom abilities, she has been experimenting with psychic powers... which when they DO work, can be quite powerful.

Weakness: When she was a human, and even now as a phantom, Sherra has always had a weakness- that of fainting. Whether it is because of lack of energy or lack of iron, she is not sure. Doctors and medicine men haven't been able to tell her why it is or how to fix it, so she has dealt with it in strides. Even in ghost form she will faint, and will phase back to her human form. Another weakness is connected to a leather choker that a witch put around her neck. As Sherra was accused of being a demon, the witch cursed the choker to contract whenever a pure bell sounded (rings, chimes, etc). When this happens, Sherra is forced to stop all movement and sit down or lie down until the ringing stops, and the contracting of the necklace eases. The time it takes for the crontracting to stop can be from a few moments up to a few days, depending on the type of bell and for how long it was ringing. (smaller bells and shorter bursts of sound equal shorter time periods, versus louder, deeper bells with long melodies, can cause her to stop for days, etc. )

Skills/Magic: As a ghost, Sherra is tampering in the ways of psychic powers, and can have the ability to use ghost like powers (phasing through walls and visiting humans in their dreams- etc.) But only for short bursts of time of course.

Appearance: Sherra is a shorter girl, and has two appearances (again, reason why will be in bio section...) Her human form, is that of a short yet foxy looking girl, usually with a smirk on her face, as if she knows something that someone else may not. Her green eyes glint with a fire, especially when she is around treasure of any kind. She has a keen interest of shiny things, and so will be seen wearing bits of jewelry which she may... or may not...have purchased. Since she died at the age of 19, around the medieval ages... She is only seen in one outfit- A slightly baggy blouse that cuts off right above the elbow, which has yellowed with age, and is a sort of tan color. Her skirt is a bright red with a white under skirt, and she will wear it one of two ways, with both skirts down, or the red one tied up so as to be out of the way a bit. Over this she wears a dark cloak, with a red lining, and has simple slip on shoes to cover her feet. Her appearance is a bit ragged, as her human form is that of when she died. Marks can still be seen from when she was killed (explained in bio with more detail) and she is commonly seen sitting on rooftops or in other high locations. Her skin is fair as a human, and her hair is a fiery natural red, usually pulled back in a braid or a braided bun. A strange choker of a necklace with red leather is around her neck- placed there by a witch. (see weaknesses) And she has one gold earing in her right ear- that of a golden Spanish doubloon.

Her phantom/ ghost appearance can be one of two ways- the exact inverse of herself, which switches all of the colors according to the color wheel. (Red hair turns green... Green eyes turn red. Pale skin goes dark, red skirt, to green skirt... etc. ) Though, she can vary her appearances transparency, depending on how much she focuses.

If she is really motivated, she can change into a dark shadow of a form, hiding most of her body from view, except for her eyes, which glow red in the night.

Personality: Sherra is a quiet sort, though loves to pull a trick or two if she can manage it. She is completely obsessed with treasure and will do anything to get it. Though she appears to be confident and bold in everything she does, laughing and mocking, smirking as she goes along her way- when she is alone and out of sight, she will go into moments of silence where she stares off in a very serious manner. She is a loyal friend, and a passionate lover, though as of late she has been eerily quiet.

Biography:

Sherra lived in a small village with her mother and father. It was around the medieval ages, so things were fairly simple. Her mother looked after Sherra and her siblings, while her father would go out to farm and hunt. Things were peaceful- until the crusades started. Her village was marked as a satanic, witchcraft using place, and so it was ordered to be burned completely to the ground, killing anything that moved. Her mother and father tried desperately to guide the villagers away from the horror, but it was to no avail, and one way or another, Sherra eventually found herself alone. She waited in the forest, hoping that she merely had gotten lost from her family, but as night fell, Sherra realized that she was on her own. The silence of the forest was eerie, and she was cold as the north wind blew through the leaves, rattling distant and frightening noises- only to be joined by the distant howls of hungry wolves.

Being a stronger girl even at the young age of ten, Sherra decided to move on through the forest in search of someplace safe to rest. Little did she know but she was closer to safety than she realized. Just before she started to walk away, a tree nearby groaned, and a hidden wooden door opened, revealing a set of stairs leading down into darkness. Sherra was curious so stepped forward, only to jump back when a giant scraggly man came out, and loomed over her.

The man looked at the girl, and the girl regained her composure and stared defiantly back. After a moments pause, the man laughed and stated aloud that he must have had too much to drink for the faeries were out early that night. After the well spoken young Sherra explained to him that she was no faerie and was simply lost- he studied her carefully. Another moment and he led her into the tree, guiding her down the dark stairway, and into an underground tavern... ((similar to a speak easy of the 20's- for in this manic time of crusades, alcohol was considered a sin.)) After helping Sherra get settled in with some food and drink (non alcoholic as he said she was far too young for the 'godly' drink) he explained to her that his name was Cairbre and that this tavern was a safe haven for weary travelers. He told Sherra of the horrors he had seen, and told her that he was a marked man, not only because of his frightening appearance but because his name (Cairbre) sounded like something out of a 'witches book'- though he explained to her that it was Gaelic, and it meant 'strong man'. He told her many tales of his adventures around the world, and of his family, his loves, his losses, and eventually she fell asleep.

From then on, Sherra was at his side, like a second daughter. He had told her of his lost daughter Brianna, and how the crusades had taken his family from him just like Sherra. The two became inseparable, and soon Sherra grew into a lovely young lady- though a fiery spirit none the less. Cairbre taught her everything he knew, from hand to hand skills, and even the ability to take what she needed when it was absolutely necessary... And... as things usually happen, she became quite good at it. Her thieving skills increased with age, and Sherra would always bring back her evening's profits to the underground tavern, serving as a waitress by day, and slinking off into the night to quench her thirst for treasure. Cairbre cared for her and loved her, letting her do as she wished, with the stern warning for her to be careful and to not do anything too extreme. She was fairly confident in her abilities- until she met... him.

He, was known as the most handsome prince- who ruled over the country with his elderly yet powerfully strong father, the Dark King. He was called this, because it was he who had started the crusades- and many feared him. The prince however was unimpressed by his father's aims of glory, and would often steal away into the night, longing to be alone. But as fate would have it, on one of his many nightly strolls, he came across an interesting sight.

For once in her life, Sherra had been caught in a most unsightly manner. She had been after a gem deemed 'unreachable' by most common thieves, but the always ambitious Sherra decided that tonight would be her night to make history. She had planned for traps, and timing... Going out at the darkest point of the night- only to be foiled by the simplest of traps- ironically set for a meddlesome fox, who had been killing chickens in a nearby farmers barn. Trapped upside down, Sherra struggled, only to notice she was not alone.

The prince revealed himself, trying not to laugh, and she glared at him defiantly. Stubborn and proud, she tried to act as if this was merely a setback, and she could very well handle herself, but found it difficult to act out as her face was red with embarrassment of her skirts falling upwards. The prince shocked her however, and helped her down, only asking in return her name. But as Sherra had only known one man very well, (being Cairbre) she merely smirked and said, "Call me a fox" and vanished into the shadows.

Though, the two seemed to be unable to avoid each other from then on. He would search for her, and she would find him while on her quests for treasure. Like a fleeting dance the two would hover in and out of each others lives during the next few weeks. Eventually, coming together and spending short conversations with each other. And as time would have it, their conversations would become longer, and the two would eventually sneak out in the night to see one another at a small lake in the middle of her forest.

"Tell me your name..." The prince urged again one evening as they sat near the waters edge. "You've claimed fox, and phantom, and lady thief as your title, but I simply must know your name." She looked at him and smiled.

"Now that isn't fair m'lord. For all I know you by is 'prince' or 'm'lord' and-"

"Vincent." He interrupted. "There. Now you must tell me." She smiled again and nodded.

"Very well." leaning in close she whispered. "I am Sherra." he blushed and looked at her lovingly, hesitating before leaning in for a kiss.

"Sherra..." he breathed, when suddenly a cackle was heard behind them.

"There! You see my lord?!" an old woman pointed at the couple, as the king himself rode over the hill. "This is where your son has disappeared to. Hiding in the darkness with this wench of a commoner!"

"Father!" Vincent exclaimed jumping to his feet, with Sherra attempting an escape only to be caught by the kings guards. "Let her go! She has done nothing wrong!"

"This witch has informed me of your whereabouts, showing me all that I need to know. I have granted her pardon so long as she uses her powers for good, and I am shocked to see what she has shown me. Witchcraft in various places... hidden taverns... and my son... bewitched by a wicked demon!"

"Tavern!?" Sherra thought in a panic, but she knew it was too late. A plume of smoke was slowly rising from the direction of her home. "Cairbre!!!" she screamed in agony, fighting against her captors grip.

"Father!!" Vincent roared, "How could you!?"

"My word is final son." the king said coldly. "I cannot see my sons in the hands of a devil. I am purging this world of sin, and will continue to do so, if it will save the good of this world, as well as those whom I love." The old woman limped forward, leaning on her knobbly crooked cane and held Sherra's face in her hands. "Do with her what you will woman. May god have mercy on her soul."

"Of course sire." the woman chuckled, and tied a red leather necklace around Sherra's neck. "By the power in me... and by the gracious power of GOD." she smirked back at the king. "I will bind her, body and soul. Though she may die here tonight, she will never see the gracious gates of heaven, nor will she receive the mercy of a resting place even in hell. She will walk this earth. Bound forever by my hand, and by this charm." She pointed at the center of the leather, as a crossing symbol twisted its way into reality.

"No! Sherra!!" Vincent screamed trying to reach her, but he was held back by his father as the woman worked.

"With this knife!" she exclaimed with a flourish, pulling out a rusting weapon with ragged edges. "I will end this demon's miserable life, and prove to the world that her kind will never prevail over the goodness of our lord and king!" The blade penetrated Sherra's skin, but she found that she could not scream. The leather choker, was more than just jewelry, it was a spell that slowly strangled her of breath and of sound. The woman slashed one wrist and then another, giggling as she did so. "With this mark." she added slowly as Sherra shivered, "I will bind her... forever."

"Sherra!!" Vincent broke free, but it was too late. the woman had already cut the mark of the devil into Sherra's left hand, and by the time Vincent reached her, Sherra was already dead. Her body falling limp to the ground once the guards let go of her.

And this brings us to present day. From that moment, Sherra was a phantom, stuck between worlds, and trapped in a state of being that she could not escape. She tried to contact the prince, but every time she tried, he ended up believing he was crazy. And in Sherra's new 'immortal' state, she could do nothing but watch as her love grew old and died before her eyes.

Years past and for a time, she would simply sit atop roofs and in trees, staring up at the moon, or what she believed to be heaven. However, as the years increased, she realized that she could bring forth certain powers. As a ghost, she could walk through walls, and sometimes she could even bring herself to fly. Through years of trial and error, she managed to pick things up and show herself to mortals, able to converse with them... so long as they would stay and talk of course. She found that dreams were the easiest way to contact them, fiddling in the lives of others for a time- and even returning to thievery once she found out that she could pick up and carry things out of households.

This glory faded slowly though. She could collect treasures but there really was no point she found after a year or so of making a name for herself. She found a way to manipulate her appearance, and was commonly known as the Red Phantom of The Night- due to her glowing red eyes and shadowy appearance.

So Sherra stalked the night, preferring to 'sleep' during the day, or rather lie staring at the clouds in some quiet area, where she wouldn't bother passersby. This reign of hers would have continued for quite some time, until she found a small child, wandering alone. Curious as to why, she followed him and when he passed out in the road, she mustered up most of her strength to move him under a tree so he would have some shelter. When she was sure he would be alright, she entered his dreams, asking why he was alone.

He spoke of an evil, clinging to her in his dream as if she was the only one who could save her. The boy described demons chasing him and his family, frightening everyone and killing many more. Sherra listened in horror, and when the boy stopped talking, and began to breathe more slowly, she realized this boy was ill, and was dying. She tried to save him, but as a phantom, she couldn't do much. With his dying breath, he murmured out to the darkness,

"Please angel... you're the only one who knows now... you have to save us... the demons are spreading... if you don't help... everyone will... die."

Sherra was silent as she watched his bright soul glowing around him, and then forming into one glowing sphere. It drifted lazily into the sky, and Sherra knew that he had gone to heaven. She waved quietly, and then used the rest of her strength to bury him under the tree, marking the place with a smooth stone and a flower. Passing out under the tree herself, she lay there in dream for a day- her curiosity had been sparked- what was this evil he had spoken of? Could it have anything to do with the crusades and that awful witch? So many questions flew through her mind, and she decided that it was time she did something more meaningful. Alive or dead... perhaps this evil was connected with her death- and a more fleeting, impossible hope was- perhaps... if she tried hard enough, she too would be able to join that boy, and perhaps her lover, and friends... in heaven.

((Little does she know, but Cairbre is not dead. Though many died in the flames, he managed to escape, trying to find her. He searched for years, and eventually was nearing the end of his life, until a spirit of light approached him. She explained that the one he was searching for (Sherra) was neither dead nor alive, and that he was one of the only ones to help her. So she granted him immortality... at a heavy price. Every full moon, Cairbre would find himself overcome by the spirit of a wolf, and would transform into one himself. A large dark beast that looked drastically different from any normal creature. He cursed his new being, and was grateful for it, as he attempted to track down his 'daughter' ))

I'm rather excited, since this is my first character. I think she was approved by Ranarath.

Name: Lafami Odureg

Age: 16

Race: Gerudo/Kokiri

Sex: Female

Hair: Auburn reddish-brown color, that turns forest green at the very tips. It is naturally wavy but does not get knotted often. It reaches down to the bottom of her shoulder-blades, and is always tied in a very tight braid low on her head. There is no part separating the hair on top of her head, so it almost looks like she’s wearing a shiny cap.

Eyes: A firey amber color, with a small tinge of green surrounding the pupil.

Weight: 78 lbs

Height: Three feet and eight inches

Weapon: Two very short scimitars, which almost the size of daggers. She also has a hollow reed with a case of sleeping darts, two knives stuffed into her boots, and her belt can detach to become her favorite weapon: the whip.
Armor: Wears a green leather tunic and shorts, and brown leather boots for armor. Other things she wears is just regular clothing.

Strengths: Her small stature and lithe build gives her a great amount of speed and dexterity, and also makes her somewhat hard to hit. Her never-ending optimism and determination can aid in getting through tough situations. Also, because she is light-weight and very small, Lafami has incredible skill in stealth. While short, she is a very fast runner. She can surprise people by using her cat familiar in battle.

Weakness: Also due to her "little girl" stature, Lafami is generally weaker than other characters, and does not have that great a range with her short arms. Living in the desert, she never learned how to swim, and cold climates cause her to become incredibly lethargic. Her hyperactive, childlike nature can cause her to get into trouble, and she has a very severe peanut allergy, to the point where smelling a peanut-related product will cause sinus problems. Eating a peanut product would kill her. While Lafami can be stealthy, she can rarely stay silent for long.

Skills/Magic: Skilled with knives and short-range weapons, including throwing them, and other inventive ways to use such weapons. (ie. Using a knife to pick a lock or scale a cliff) Exceptional skill with whips. She has no magical talent whatsoever. She can quickly scale steep slopes and walls if the material is rough enough for a grip, similar to how one would climb a tree. While she has no magic skillsm she can summon her pet familiar, Reti, whom is explained in the paragraph below.

During her travels, Lafami "acquired" an animal familiar. She is an ocicat (a domestic breed of cat bred to look like its wildcat cousin, the ocelot), and Lafami has taken to calling the little creature Reti. Reti is somewhat magical, for she heeds the commands Lafami issues as if she could understand what Lafami was saying. She’s about 15 lbs, though not fat at all, and is about 16 inches at the shoulder. The cat helps Lafami when she fights, steals, and is a welcome companion on her relatively solitary road.

Appearance: Relatively fair-skinned, though living in the desert for most of her life has darkened her complexion a little bit. Despite being 16, her proportions are like those of a nine year-old, thanks to the Kokiri blood in her, and she is rather flat-chested. She has large eyes, a small, pointed nose, and bold eyebrows that are a brighter color than the rest of her hair. Her teeth are fairly straight and normal, since she hasn’t grown in many permanent teeth. Those that did grow in are her eye-teeth (canines), and so when she smiles, they look like little fangs. She has a medium-length neck that extends down to her child-like body. Her limbs are somewhat bigger than a normal child’s, though they are neither fat nor muscular. Her hands have calluses from being used so much. Ever since seeing her father, she has adopted a similar clothing style to the tunics the Kokiri wear. She wears an off-white cotton t-shirt and poofy pants, and over that, she wears a tattered green tunic, which is sleeveless, and looks like it was torn off right above her belly button. The torn off material has apparently been used to create her shorts, which end mid-thigh. Her boots are made of a thick leather, and are extremely worn and made for travelling. She wears her black whip around her waist like a belt, and the sheath with her scimitars rests on either side. She carries a tattered stolen pack that she keeps her essentials in, and any trinkets that she ended up stealing.

Personality: If you can imagine an excitable little Kokiri inside of a Gerudo, this would fit the majority of Lafami’s personality. She’s loud, curious, and very often a troublemaker. She likes stealing things, especially gems and other trinkets that she considers pretty. She is extremely optimistic, and coupled with a die-hard determination, Lafami seems to be able to get into anything, or anywhere. She’s a fighter at heart, whether physically or verbally, and is rarely intimidated. Despite her overall childishness, Lafami can also be quite mature at times, for while she still looks like a child, she is in fact growing up. She is smart and intelligent, and while she has morals, she sticks to the rule of "It’s yours if you don’t get caught". Lafami enjoys new experiences, and if those experiences turn out dangerous, perhaps even lethal, Lafami only knows that it will help her learn about the world. She is very courageous, somewhat obnoxious, and so curious that a cat would be shocked to see that she’s still alive. She’s almost always out for a thrill or a chase, although she does have her down moments. At times she gets homesick, especially when someone reminds her of her mother, and she can also get despondent at how negatively the world generally treats her, and for her lack of a sparring partner. She views friends more like partners, often asking for a battle to help her keep her skills developed, though those she particularly cares about often get special privileges, such as seeing her mature, intellectual side, and not getting things stolen from them. Speaking of stealing, Lafami is and can be rather selfish, more inclined to help herself than to help someone in need. Whenever she does a favor, she expects to be repaid in an equivalent manner, whether in the form of money or another favor. If she doesn’t get what she wants, she tends to get rather annoyed, and ends up stealing her payment. She gets especially cross when others underestimate her, though she does understand that there will be others better than her. She loves the color blue, and more often than not steals anything pretty that is blue, no matter if it is of little monetary value. She hates it when she is bested. She has an incredible amount of self-esteem, and it is very hard for her to doubt or feel ashamed of herself.

Biography: When Lafami’s parents eloped, she was born from the event nine months later, when her mother had returned to the desert. The two parents had separated, realizing that they couldn’t live with each other, but kept in touch at least once a year. Lafami lived her childhood with her mother in the Gerudo Desert, and was taught the ways of the female society, as was the custom. Her bright mind and abnormally eager disposition led Lafami to be an excellent student, despite reprimands that came often from her more mischievous side. All in all her childhood was much like any other normal child’s. She was taught how to be a thief and how to engage in combat with knives, and how the three Goddesses, Din, Nayru, and Farore created the world. She had some friends when she was younger, and often their group would be the source of mischievous misdeeds. When the tips of her hair began to turn green around the age of puberty, Lafami often questioned about her father, and why she was growing up slower than her peers. Others around her began having the same questions, often trailing Lafami’s mother in order to find out who was the father. Lafami’s mother kept silent as stone about it however, and soon the questions about Lafami’s heritage trickled to a halt, except from Lafami herself. As she continued to grow older, Lafami was often picked on for being "the eternal Gerudo child" often not only by physical appearances but in personality. Even her good old friends began to grow distant from her. Instead of destroying the way Lafami felt about herself, these names and actions against her only fueled her desire to find out who her father was. Using her prowess in her training to a maximum, Lafami, when she was 13, eventually caught her mother fleeing the Gerudo Fortress and moving towards the forest. She followed her mother to the great wood, and eventually saw her mother come into contact with a male Kokiri. From the way they talked and held each other, Lafami knew that this was her father. Of course from her excitement, Lafami was found out, and sent back to the desert forcibly by her mother. She was told it was extremely risky for her to have done such a thing, but because of Lafami’s persistence and stubbornness, her mother eventually conceded to take her along future journeys. Lafami had never been more proud, and now had grown an insatiable appetite for the world outside of the desert, and the people in that world. She eventually felt her old life had grown stale, despite the raids they sometimes acted out, and fled the desert when she was just about 16 with a pack of rightfully stolen supplies. She misses her mother, but feels that exploring the whole wide world suits her more than anything. Travelers along her path are often subject to her obnoxious, curious personality and thievery (particularly the person she stole Reti from while on her travels), though those who get to know her more than a petty traveling thief will find that she is good company. Lafami would not kill unless she is forced to, and does not think of dying herself. She dreams of travelling the entire world, learning things and stealing unique trinkets, and maybe finding some friends she can spar with.

Okay, this is my second character here.

Name: Torus White, but everyone just calls him White.

Age: 19

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Hair: Black, relatively short.

Eyes: Light, frosty blue

Weight: Around average.

Height: 170 cm, or 1.7 metres

Weapon: White himself carries a pair of short swords, standard issue. His mind fragment's manifestations (see below) all carry weapons that suit their purposes.

Armor: White wears a prismatic jacket that reflects some percentage of anything striking him, though never all of it unless it's either benign or really weak.

Strengths: White is very strong of will, and has a talent for magic. His skill with his weapons is not to be underestimated, either. In addition, he has some control over his "mind fragments" (see below), which can offer considerable help. He is proficient in most forms of magic, and doesn't require a specific spell to cast like most mages do : he can simply shape the magic as he needs to when he needs to, provided he has enough power.

Weakness: White is often distracted by the constant goings on in his head, which can lead to disastrous consequences in a fight. Also, while he has considerable power, he can't use most of it without help from his mind fragments, who aren't always happy to provide it.

Skills/Magic: White's main skill is his ability to force his "mind fragments" to manifest. Mind fragments are traits that most people have, only in White's case, they have become animated and have their own personalities and sentience. Note that if a mind fragment is extremely opposed to a course of action, it may refuse to be manifested or to assist White in it. All of the mind fragments are referred to by the colour of their manifestation, or by the key word after the colour - see below. Also note that each one has all the basic abilities White possesses, but with the additions mentioned below.

Red - anger. Represents anger within White. Wields fire magic and the Sword of Rage, a greatsword almost as tall as him, which is constantly warm and can be heated up by Red at will. Is often sarcastic and impulsive. Wears a suit of plate mail that is constantly hot to the touch, and so can be dangerous to attack.

Blue - compassion. Represents the sense of kindness and compassion within White. Wields minor healing magic, but also light spells. Weapon is a slender quarterstaff inscribed with healing runes. Will become enraged if he sees people being nasty, may merge with Red if this happens. He also carries a katana for standard combat, and isn't afraid to use it on those he thinks deserve it.

Grey - sadist. Represents many of White's bad aspects, particularly a desire to hurt. Is very rude to almost everyone, will never back down from a fight, in fact often goes seeking them. Wields a pair of short blades whose surfaces are roughened and enchanted so that any wounds they cause will be painful and slow to heal. Uses darkness magic and some magic of any type that can hurt people. Wears spiked leather armour that inflicts pain on anyone who attacks him by firing some of the spikes at them.

Green - subtlety. Represents the notions of sneakiness and subtlety within White. Wields illusion magic and a pair of daggers with poison on the tips that will sicken and slightly incapacitate the victim. Also carries a shortbow and a decent supply of arrows tipped with the same poison. Will argue complicated points incessantly, exploiting loopholes and finding little things to win arguments. Would make a good lawyer. Also very sneaky, good at stealing, lockpicking etc. Likes finding out secrets. Wears a full set of oddly shimmering clothing that offers some chameleonic type concealment. While all the fragments manifest translucently, this one can alter this to become almost entirely invisible. This along with the clothing makes him very hard to spot with the naked eye.

Purple - intelligence. Represents White's raw brain power. Wields a tall staff engraved with magic-enhancing runes, and is proficient in all forms of magic, though he prefers to use combinations of spells cleverly e.g. covering an opponent with water and shocking them. He often spouts random knowledge during a conversation, and knows a great many things and is very willing to find out about the rest of them. Incredibly curious. Wears a special set of glasses that help him to analyze things.

Yellow - happiness. Represents happiness and optimism. Wields a short, white staff and carries several pouches of healing herbs and such. Uses healing magic exclusively. Hates to see pain and will do all he can to heal it when it appears. Never attacks anyone unless it is to prevent more pain on the whole. Wears a set of yellow robes that augment healing magic and induce happiness in nearby people.

Black - uh, emo-ness. Represents extreme lack of caring and will to live. Wields a short knife and a spiked chain. Uses shadow magic and a small amount of necromancy. Is very hard to coerce into fighting, but quite good at it when he does.

Orange - chaos. Represents the chaotic side of White. Wields fire magic, as well as some telekinesis. Uses a meteor hammer as his weapon with symbols inscribed on it that can confuse people if they stare at it being spun for too long. He can also cause the ends of the hammer to burn indefinitely at will. Very impulsive and random, also very hard to control. Rather carefree unless attacked. If he is attacked, uses a chaotic attack pattern which can be very hard to counter.

Pink - romanticism. Represents White's positive feelings towards others. Wields a wide array of throwing weapons, including specially balanced throwing knives and shuriken. Uses mostly healing magic but also rather limited telekinesis. Is usually friendly towards everyone, but really comes into his element when White has strong feelings for someone.

Lime - indifference. Represents a basic lack of care and laziness. Doesn't bother with weapons, but has some basic mind-affecting spells, particularly ones tailored to sleep and apathy. Refuses to get involved in anything unless he absolutely has to. Wears an odd shirt that induces laziness and apathy in people who are looking at it.

Navy - sadness. Represents the existence of sadness within White. Uses water magic and wields a three-piece rod : three lengths of hollowed out wood with a length of chain connecting all of them. It is similar to a sansetsukon. It can be used as a flail-like thing or assembled into a quarterstaff. The wood is also reinforced with metal. Can be convinced to fight easily, but not enthusiastically. Wears a suit of armour made from ice.

Cyan (Sky blue) - neutrality. Where indifference will avoid a conflict, neutrality will try to balance it. Wields powerful countermagic and a Manriki-Gusari. Generally kind, but always steps into a conflict and tries to mediate or defuse it, even if he won't be able to. Can be convinced to avoid stopping friendly conflict...with some effort.

Sienna (brown) - truth. Represents honesty and morality within White. Uses spells that reveal things, but respects people's privacy when doing so. Is also telepathic to a degree. Wields a ball and chain with holy inscriptions on it. Often tries to act as a moral compass and chastises White and the other fragments when they do things that he considers immoral. Will do this to others to an extent as well.

Dark red (maroon) - wisdom. Represents, well, wisdom. Casts light, electric, and some ice magic. Wields a longbow and is rather good with it. Will pop in with philosophical saying and such in the middle of conversations, often to the annoyance of whoever is in them.

Magenta - strength. Represents the desire to use force to overcome something. Wields a massive greatsword around 1 1/2 times his height with relative ease. Enjoys friendly rivalry and often pops up during battles. Doesn't use any form of magic. Wears a massively heavy suit of armour that can withstand most attacks with relative ease. The armour is made from a heavy alloy of metals that would be almost impossible for White to wear without collapsing.

White can also manifest combinations of these under special circumstances, though they can be somewhat unpredictable.

Also note that the mind fragments live in a sort of physical space within his head, so they can attack and otherwise physically interact with each other while in his mind. They can also project their voices outside his head so others can hear them, something they do with some frequency. The voices sound like they're coming from White's head, but his mouth isn't moving.

Manifestation works by White focusing on the particular mind fragment appearing in physical form near him. It appears as a near-identical copy to White, except it's hair and eye colours change to fit the fragment's colour, and it's skin has a slight hue of that colour as well. It will also be partly translucent. He can manifest any fragment in any area no further than around 20 metres away, and he has to be able to trace a clear path to the area, so he can't manifest anyone on the outside of a solid brick structure if he is trapped inside.

Manifestation appears as a ball of the appropriately coloured light shooting out of the top of White's head and striking the ground where it's intended appearance point is. There is then a sudden flash of that colour and the manifestation will be standing there.

When I say a manifestation can use magic, I'm referring to just a general amount of magical control involving whatever it is. As I mentioned before, White doesn't need spells; he shapes his own from whatever he's casting with at the time. The same goes for his fragments. White himself wields a small amount of all the forms of magic his fragments use, and a few others.

Partial Domination : White can allow a given fragment(s) to temporarily become partially dominant within his psyche. This will grant him all the powers of said fragment and then some, but will also modify his personality accordingly. His hair and eyes will change colour as above, but his skin remains unchanged. He will also recieve the equipment specific to that fragment.

Power lending : Rather than allow domination, White can borrow some of the power or weapons of his mind fragments, though they have to be willing to allow him to do so. Generally they won't mind, but there are exceptions. This is considerably less powerful that domination, but leaves White in full control of himself, rather than party affected by the relevant fragment.

Appearance: White has relatively short black hair and piercing blue eyes which tend to unnerve people if he stares at them. He generally wears a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, since he's used to living in a cold climate. He also wears a slightly odd jacket which shimmers in many different colours, and reflects most things to some degree. It is particularly good at reflecting magic, but never manages to do so entirely. He generally appears kind, but his look changes a fair bit when a fragment has partial dominance.

Personality: Generally, White exhibits personality traits based on which of his mind fragments is most dominant at the time. This varies, and so White's personality is rather variable. White himself is usually of the opinion that his power is an aweslme responsibility, and so always sets out to use it in the best way possible. As a result of this, he has developed a liking for helping people, even at his own personal risk. This has led to White developing a sense of kindness and compassion outside of the mind fragment that usually carries it.

Biography: Torus White was born in a relatively large village, bordering on being a city, just outside the Arctic Circle. His parents were both simple taskmages who used their magic to help out around the village. As he grew up, he had continuous exposure to magic, and began to develop a knack for it.

He was an only child, and was loved very much by both his parents. He went to a local school which taught magic as part of the curriculum, and while he wasn't fantastic at many of the other subjects, he quickly rose to the top of his class in magical studies. His parents were very proud of him, and bought him an almost neverending supply of magic theory books and spell tomes and such. He even recieved tuition twice a week. As his power continued to grow, he began to become detached from those around him, too absorbed in his studies to notice what was going on around him.

This got steadily worse until eventually he would use his talents to block out others talking to him while he was studying or working, which was most of the time. His parents became worried and took him to see a psychiatrist. There were a couple working in the town, so they went to the one with a magical background. He said that he might be able to give each part of White's brain a voice for a little while using a spell he'd been developing. However, he didn't mention that the spell would have a permanent effect and that he was in fact using White as a guinea pig.

He spent a few minutes muttering and making arcane gestures, and a prismatic light surrounded White's head. After it cleared, nothing appeared to have happened...until a voice from White's head started talking. It sounded surprised at it's own existence at first, but then started rambling on about spellwork and such, to the surprise of no-one. The psychiatrist conversed with no less than 15 separate parts of White's psyche, and deduced that his intelligence had taken majorative presence within his mind. The psychiatrist then told several of the other "fragments" as he called them to try to keep his intelligence in check.

They did so, and it seemed that there wasn't a problem...until later that week when he was doing a bit of study and the intelligence voice popped up and started telling him what to be doing. It told him that all these spells were effectively variations on a theme...fire balls, streams of fire, telekinetic grab, telekinetic push...and that he didn't really have to memorize all of them, just the basic framework. And that he could weave the remainder of the spell around that framework. He tried this and it worked brilliantly. Then the intelligent voice just stopped, and was replaced by another one warning him not to get too intent on his studies again.

White went and asked the psychiatrist about why the voices were still there. The psychiatrist was puzzled and examined him for a few minutes before declaring that the spell appeared to have been permanent in it's effect. He gave White several books relevant to the issue, which he took home and read with interest.

He was poring over the last of these books when he realized that they pointed to him being able to grant these "fragments" of his psyche, as the psychiatrist had put it, a physical presence of sorts. He tried using several arcane techniques to do so, but none of them seemed to work. Then he heard a voice coming from nowhere saying "Imagination is more important than knowledge. Imagine what you wish to be true, and it will occur". He did so, and a near copy of himself that seemed rather maroon was standing beside him.

The "manifestation", as he decided to call it, explained that it was his wisdom fragment given form, for wisdom may often succeed where raw intellect fails. He walked outside with the manifestation and tried the process with every other fragment he could find. He found that despite the unwillingness of some of them, he was able to manifest them all, though it took a bit longer for every one he already had. There were 15 in total, and they all had different colours and personalities. They all appeared shocked for a few seconds, then continued bickering as they had been before they were summoned. Now that they were in the physical plane, they found they could do each other actual damage, for they'd all appeared with the weapons and magic that fitted them best. White noticed that the grey one was being mobbed severely, and as this happened, he began to feel as though he never wanted to hurt anyone again, under any circumstances. He realized that these fragments were his psyche, and that if they were injured here, his psyche would be damaged. He immediately unsummoned all of them, and 15 balls of light shot into his head. He could still hear them bickering and attacking each other occasionally, but they couldn't hurt each other in his mind.

So he continued practicing his magic, until one day one of his fragments suggested he study weaponry as well. It explained that weapons are often a good substitute for magic, and suggested that White manifest him so he could teach him. White did so, and a magenta figure in full battle dress carrying a massive greatsword appeared. He looked White over once and suggested that he would be well suited to the balanced fighting style that is best practiced with a pair of short swords. Nice and basic weaponry. White had no trouble in obtaining these weapons, and the next day he practiced against the magenta manifestation. After a while, magenta thought that it might be easier if he could guide White's movements. At this point intelligence, or purple, butted in and suggested that White could potentially allow one or more fragments some measure of control, or dominance, over his psyche.

White tried this and found that his main thougths were backed up by those of the strength fragment, and that his eyes and hair had changed colour accordingly. He also noticed that the strength fragment's equipment had appeared on him, and was surprised to note that he was able to wield it with no problems. He set the greatsword down and picked up his pair of blades. After a few hours of practice, he started getting the hang of them.

Over the next few years, White continued to practice swordplay with his strength fragment. He spent a while gettin acquainted with all of them, and devoted around even time to most of them, though he usually avoided the grey one; it seemed to represent his sadistic side. He made sure he didn't tell anyone about them, too. Through this process, he learnt many skills and fine-tuned his abilities until he was far better able to control his fragments, though they were still all independent. This was a good thing, though; they provided good company in White's opinion. And they were awfully useful in a variety of situations.

He reached a high level of proficiency with his own weapons and magic and those of his fragments, though it took many years of training. This was so he could use the partial dominance skill to it's fullest. When he turned 18, he thanked his parents for everything and went off into the world. He spent a year traveling the globe with the cash he'd earned by having 5 or 6 jobs at once (Guess how...), and still spends most of his time traveling. He is always seeking ways to augment his magic, and hopes that he'll find some soon.

My first character, approved, after slight extension of the bio, by Power Shot.
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Name: Francis Abel

Age: 26

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Hair: Long, feathered, dark brown hair. In the back, his hair stops just before his shoulders, and in the front it stops above his eyebrows. He sometimes buzzes his hair down.

Eyes: Deep blue eyes, with a thin gray ring around his pupils.

Weight: 185 lbs.

Height: 6 ft. 2 in.

Theme Song(s): Aerosmith - Amazing, Led Zeppelin - Ramble On, Guns N' Roses - Paradise City, Led Zeppelin - Dancing Days,

Battle Theme(s): Heart - Barracuda, Guns N' Roses - Welcome to the Jungle

Francis Abel.bmp
A picture of Francis with his hair long.

Francis Abel short hair.bmp
A picture of Francis with short hair.

Weapon: Francis uses a variety of weapons, but his most mainstream weapons are an 8 inch, very intricately designed blade, forged from a space metal (from a fallen meteorite) by a master smith, a silenced S&W USP .40 pistol, and (when he deems it necessary), a silenced M40A1 sniper rifle with an adjustable, custom scope ranging anywhere from 2-25x zoom.

Armor: Francis very rarely wears much armor, he can sometimes be seen wearing a kevlar vest, and sometimes also reinforces his joints with kevlar padding (although he prefers not to if at all possible, as this padding hinders some of his movement and acrobatic capability).

Strengths: Francis is an avid practitioner of Krav Maga, or "Contact Combat", and he tries to train at least three times a week (he is currently been bestowed the title of black belt, a feat that very few people have been able to accomplish). Francis is also a parkour/free running enthusiast, and can often be found practicing his techniques in public, an activity that law enforcement is not too fond of. Francis is also an excellent marksman, rarely missing a target with his firearms, but his true skill is his ability to wield his blade effectively (he has put many years into developing his blade skills, something that has truly paid off for him and saved his life many times).

Weakness: Francis' biggest weakness is his constant underestimation of people and their abilities, a trait that has gotten him into many sticky situations over the course of his life, one of which almost cost him an eye, and another that left his chest horribly scared.

Skills/Magic: Francis has a unique ability that the Archangel Michael gave to him the day of his twenty third birthday, and that is the ability to communicate with any spirit in Heaven or Purgatory that he wishes (On rare occasions, Francis has been able to speak with spirits in hell, but this is often outside of his ability). When he uses this ability however, Francis must be on hallowed ground (such as a church, or certain cemeteries), and the spirit he is trying to contact may decide that they do not want to be visited, and may ignore Francis' attempts at communication. The use of this ability leaves him horribly drained however, as Francis must meditate intensely to call upon the connection between his soul and others.

Appearance: When in casual attire, Francis usually wears blue jeans (with a brown leather belt), tennis shoes (he almost NEVER wears sandals, as he believes that they will slow him down in the event of an emergency), and he usually wears a t-shirt with a tan leather jacket (he wears a holster most of the time, hence the need for a jacket to conceal his pistol and his blade), and he often wears black fingerless gloves with this outfit. When dressed for combat however, Francis wears Black Digital Camoflauge pants, a black Spec-Ops belt, a black, skintight Nike Pro shirt, black fingerless gloves, a black balaclava with only one opening for his nose and eyes, black combat boots, a black stealth jacket specially designed to allow minimum noise, and a leg holster for his USP .40, along with a chest holster for his 8 inch blade.

Personality: Francis can be best described as head strong, especially when his since of honor is threatened or put into question. He acts very humble, mostly due to the fact this he had no family as a child, and was raised by a monk (causing him to have a strong belief in Catholicism) that took him in from on request from his real father. He believes that he has witnessed divine intervention many times, which further reinforces his faith. He has been known to get into religious arguments when Catholicism is questioned or insulted, but he is very tolerant of other beliefs and religions. He believes that God has a plan for him, but is not yet sure what the plan is. Francis also has experienced memory loss of his early childhood due to a horrific event, and this often causes him anger and confusion in his travels.

Biography: Francis does not know much about his origins, he simply knows that he was born in a small town that was destroyed a few days after his birth. He has no idea how he came to live under the protection of a monk, but simply knows that the monk was also from the same town, and escaped the carnage of the town's destruction by (so claims the monk) calling on God to deliver them from this catastrophe. Francis also learned from the monk (whom Francis knows as "Jared Abel". Francis took his last name from the Monk), that his real father approached Jared hours before the attack, and asked him to take care of Francis, and that he was certain that Francis had a divine calling:

Father Jared sat in the oak wood chair, one foot tapping the stone floor, listening to the sound of which reverbrated throughout the room again and again, contemplating what to do, asking God for help in making this decision. To take the child and flee, as the child's father so greatly wanted, or to stay and perform blessings on the dead for as long as possible, something that the faithful would surely want. It was a tough decision, whether to sacrifice the safety of one for the blessings of many, or the blessings of many for the well-being of one. His gaze moved throughout the room, looking for anything, a sign, to help make his decision. Then it came to him. He cleared his throat, and then swallowed. Many for the one.

"I'll do it. We'll leave tonight. Does your other son know of the existence of his brother?"

"He has no idea, we told him that Katia lost the child during her sickness. He cried a lot, but he's strong. He will live on. Of that I'm sure of, God has told me. Just as God has told me that you must take my son and leave as soon as possible."

"Bring him to me within the hour. We leave tonight."

"I'll bring him now." Francis' father rose and strode to the door, peering back into the room before slipping out the grand oak door. Jared turned his head and stared at the object of his inspiration, a large stained glass window depicting the famous story of Solomon and the two babies. It was in the scriptures. The baby must live.

Almost twenty three years later, on the day of Francis’ birth. The plan began to unfold. Francis was given the power of communication with the departed and the divine, and given a choice:

Francis looked in awe at the spectacle before him. In the ten minutes he had been in Michael’s presence, his astonishment had not waned at all. The light surrounding the archangel intensified as Michael bellowed one phrase: “Make your decision, Francis. To live a normal life, without ever finding out the identity of your brother, or to do God’s will, in the form of a necessary evil: Violence, but to be sure that the identity of your brother will be revealed to you.”

Francis stared, deep in thought, at the archangel’s magnificence, before replying “I choose to do God’s will.”

“You have made the right decision, Francis, your father would be proud. You will now begin your training.” The archangel raised his hands, and began to sing, to be sure, the most beautiful song Francis had ever heard, and Francis was lifted up in a beam of white light, and vanished from that place, lifted from the tyranny of the world and accepted into divine living, if only for a moment. If only for one purpose…

Exactly thirty minutes later, on a hill overlooking a valley, armed with pistol, rifle, and knife, Francis appeared. He covered his eyes as he peered across the plain. He was there. Francis looked upwards, and watched the archangel speed away.

“Welcome to the Dome, Francis…”


Hobbies: Krav Maga, Parkour/Freerunning, Weapons training, writing, Chess, video games, cooking, singing, trying to find his lost brother…

Name: Johann Copper
Age: 34
Race: Human
Sex : Male
Hair: Dark brown, some inch long and ruffled. His beard is unshaven.
Eyes: Blue/Grey
Weight: 164 pounds
Height: 6"02'
Theme songs: Bellowhead: Jordan // Bellowhead: Rigs of the times

Weapon: A battered twin-blade staff. Three foot of battered darkwood handle, with a tight, fine vellum wrapping which serves as a grip. Each end has a foot long jagged blade on the end, the copper finish scratched and chipped, but the blade edge sharp and keen. He also keeps a revolver -- in a holster on his tool harness, hidden by his coat. He also keeps a rapier in at his belt, because sometimes you need something sharp, quickly. It is in a battered green and silver scabbard -- which was designed to be completely silent when the weapon is drawn.

Johann learned the rapier due to shortcomings of the staff, which is not very effective against swords, and is kept buckled across his back. He can use the pistol well, but doesn't keep it loaded -- Johann feels that a gun is more useful for pointing at people for their immediate cooperation than for shooting them.

Armor: Leather and wrought iron shipads, that are worn buckled round the forearms. These plates cover the back of the forearm, and are used in defensive maneuvers. Johan believes that lack of armor adds the incentive not to get hit, as well as the mobility to do so.

Strengths: A man in his prime, Johann is wildly intelligent and wickedly ruthless, he always has a grip over the situation. He has oodles of knowledge and has spent years around humans. He is intensely streetwise, and knows when it is best to bit your tongue and swallow your pride to let the situation slide. He is observant, ever-wary and rarely surprised by a situation -- he'll carry on swiftly and effectively, normally with a cynical attitude. He doesn't get scared, just angry and mildly hysterical -- he tends to giggle slightly when he's frightened, and takes on a somewhat manic grin -- normally while his brain is thinking very hard. He can adapt to any situation quickly.

Above all that, however, he has an intense determination. Death is the very last item on his 'to-do' list, and he has no intention of skipping any item.

Needless to say, he endeavors to keep his list extensive.

Weakness: Johann is only truly agile if he finds himself in a 'Omigosh, Get AAWWWWAAAAAY!' situation. Sometimes his inability to take people seriously and his slightly accusing, mocking sarcasm gets him into trouble. He has a very 'make it up as I go along' attitude, and sometimes rushes in without thinking things through at all. His coat and harness restrict his movement somewhat, running is hampered by the coat -- and normally, while fighting, he'll take it off: but when trying to look dramatic he loved the billowing effect it gives.

Skills/Magic: Manipulative and knowing of people -- Johan knows that people don't actually need the truth and would be much happier with a good, stolid lie. He knows how people work -- how to move -- not stealthily, (humans have had thousands of generations learning how to spot things moving stealthily) but with a certain ease -- -- he knows how to stand so still that he can almost fall asleep standing, and he knows just which buttons to press to gets the results he wants

Reality is his to command. He doesn't actually know how, but he seems to have a strange dominance over this new world. As such -- he cannot use any of this on command, but might occasionally catch glimpses of thoughts that are not his own.

Appearance: Ruffled hair and striking eyes, Johann has a lightly tanned complexion, and a jaw which isn't quite as striking as it could be. He washes his hair with soap and hard water, so it keeps a wonderfully almost bedraggled look. He wears a (tan) Waistcoat over a (lighter tan) shirt, with a tooled leather harness over the top of it, on which he keeps all manner of tools in pouches and tied to loops. He wears a long chapped, brown leather overcoat -- battered and very flexible with age -- it billows out behind him as he moves, and he does with an agile, streetwise lope. He wears black canvas trousers, which are loose enough not to constrict. He wears sturdy brown sandals, which makes his appearance slightly outlandish -- but they are far superior fur running in.

A picture of Johann by the fantastically amazing Altamira. She turned a scruff into a sexy beast, and that takes skill. Applause, please. .



Personality:
Amazingly happy and outgoing, Johann masks his sadness by being almost maddeningly eccentric. His face at rest is quite unremarkable. But when he gets it into action, he moves with amazing expression and energy. He will well do things how he wants, because he knows he's thought them through more than other people will have. And if he didn't have a damn good reason for what he did, he can quickly create one. He can often be silly, but flicks to serious in an instant. His face remains almost the same, but subtle changes to the eyes and mouth make him a whole lot more serious.

He tries to always be prepared. He has a 'problem? Let's sort it now' method of work. If people get in his way, he'll politely mow over them. He can be sarcastic, when faced with danger he makes light of it by being generally unpleasant in a mocking way.

Biography:
The world is vast. It is so large that you think that, perhaps, you can run ten thousand miles and hide. Hide from your enemies, hide from your friends -- maybe even hide from god.

But these people don't realize just how holistic humanity is. No man does -- the workings of the lifeforms inhabited by the soul is still, for the most part, a mystery. People think that they are individual entities -- separated from the rest of the world. But the brain works on electric connections between the cells. Anything so much as an anbaric bulb within a thousand miles of a human affects the way his mind processes information -- nor that humans affect each other silently all the time. The mind is an amazingly delicate piece of apparatus - and the magnetic fields of each human affects brain, and therefore the mind, of each other.

And, maybe, one can learn to interpret these. It would, perhaps, be impossible. But there's an awful lot of time for stuff to happen in -- and, over the eternities, the odds slowly multiply.

Part I: Genesis.

William Copper was not extraordinary. Tall and intelligent, with brown hair and blue eyes he was always misplaced in England. He didn't like the easy, organized manner of the coastal town he grew up in -- and he quickly saw what how society was constricting the rest of th world like a hungry dog.

He wasn't particularly sporty -- which he never really considered his fault. If he were mroe dexterious he may have been better at PE, but the only reason he wasn't was becasue they played th wrong kind of games. If there were a country level 'Pick holes in this argument' contest, or a 'Fifty metre running fast through market day without hitting into anyone' -- or maybe even a 'Nod your way out of difficult situation' time attack, he'd have been dead first.

Instead, Willaim applied his spare time to that of the human mind. He dabbled in philosophy on his own from a very early age -- seeking quiet, secluded spots in his town -- the bench down by the river -- or on the roof of the electrical station, or just behind the curtain in the spare room. It wasn't intentional -- he just craved quiet and the thoughts came from there. But from even younger -- he'd dreamt of having some kind of superpower. He'd read His Dark Materials -- He'd seen The further adventures of Super Aiko -- he longed for something that would set him apart.

But this faded into insignificance as he entered his teenage years -- when philosophy started coming seriously. He'd found the encouragement he'd needed, in the form of his philosophy teacher-- Mr. Ruiz. He'd gravitated to the professor of philosophy, beliefs and ethics as soon as he'd started secondary schooling -- he was willing to listen, to bounce ideas back at forth, his chin perched on his frail hands curiously, as he peered at the lad over his desk.

William knew of the troubles of the world -- and matured fast. by the age of eleven, he was approaching the voice, figure and mind of a man of seven years the elder. And still his society suppressed him -- and now he was thinking of solutions -- ways forward, ways for humanity to stop steaming ahead and sort out a fair solution.

To do this, he had to figure out in detail how the human mind [i]worked[i]. How to think, how to feel, looking at the cogs and prodding the levers. If I ask one person a question I get a different answer from if I ask another. Why? How can these people walk these streets knowing their society is watered with the blood of thousands of slaves? It made him angry, and it made him sad. And that was how his life was for two years, as he worked at it -- listening to his mind, endeavoring to find out how to got from one end of a situation to another. And how other people did, too -- working to perception and what he couldn't call wisdom. He was just at one stage in a journey -- how can he judge himself? How can he judge anything? There's no much he didn't know.

He never grew attached to his peers;they seemed amazingly childlike and single-minded. He couldn't enjoy their jokes, was annoyed at their expensive, impractical clothes and shivered at the godawfulness of their music. But was ever watchful of himself -- always remaining civil, and never getting full of himself. Because he made mistakes. For instance, he decided he shouldn't have a girlfriend until older. People just aren't mentally equipped at this age to cope with such things, and besides -- the girls were too young to develop interesting thoughts, being just a walking stereotype.

This didn't stop girls from falling for him, though, with his kind, open attitude and sad but optimistic demeanor. If you were truly intelligent, he told himself, you'd know how to let these people down gently, or at least stop them from falling for you in the first place. He felt like he broke a hundred hearts. He could see through their untruths and just had to sit down and explain. Every time -- watching their expression turn to tears, or turn sour, or snarl with anger.

If you can tell a person's character from their face -- William's would be tiredness and sadness and intelligence and a not unkind underlying ferocity. His body had a very lived-in look, lines appeared under his eyes -- his shoulders broadened and a slight stoop appeared to counteract his height, his face was lightly tanned, and he was always found in his battered black ski jacket and red bag -- even in summer. His jacket became an extension of his body -- his home, almost. He spent more time in it, certainly, than he did in his mother's little terraced house in the rough part of town.

But by now he had... some kind off influence of his mind. Anything he did could be dismissed for coincidence, and didn't necessarily turn up if you were trying to force it -- you just had to let your mind find this... plain. And maybe people did it all the time, with out realizing. If you tried to look for it, you couldn't reach it -- but if you just coaxed it in the right direction, maybe you could get there. Words cannot describe just how tantalizingly slow this came, or just how mad he thought he must be for believing these thoughts.

But if you sit a blindfolded man in a room full of silent manic depressives, he comes out sadder than if they're normal people, right? He'd read the scientific reports. And he found that he could... help stop talking. If the teacher asked for quiet and didn't get it -- he concentrated on this feeling of a descending blanket, and slowly squeezed the sound out of the room. And he could get someone to leave the room if he concentrated angrily. He wasn't sure if it showed up in his body language or was just a coincidence or what -- we humans know nothing about how their mind works, and just as little about the tickings of the subconscious -- which could easily be processing and giving off things like this at every moment.



And this played but a small part of his life up until the age of thirteen. He found them useful, but not noteworthy. He didn't tell anyone, but only because he didn't know how to put it. They weren't useful, he couldn't prove anything, and he was convinced that humans did things like this all the time. Good public speakers were, he reasoned, just good at broadcasting signals. You could use a magic word or something to get you in the right phase of mind if it worked for you. perhaps with enough training you'd be able to do much more -- he knew he got a special kind of thought when listening to flamenco guitar, or by watching a duck trying to eat a marshmallow . But magic words or chants just got in the way if you could figure out how to do it without.

But then, on November the sixteenth, came the wasp. It was in a German lesson -- and people were making a fuss over the dozy autumn insect -- trying to wave it back out of the window into the chilly air. William idly explored his mind -- attentively watching he wasp fly, poised and silent -- intending to bat it out of the window if it came near him. And, feeling predator-like and still, like a rock amidst the water of his classmates -- he felt a plane of thought -- caught by his consciousness like he glint off golden obsidian -- a sudden light beneath the surface. And the wasp fell -- just, dropped out of the air. Whether it was still alive, Will didn't get a chance to tell -- because one of his classmates batted it smartly out of the window with 'Oxford's NEW English-German Learner's dictionary'.

Will was stunned -- did he do that? Was this a real, non-deniable affect of his mind? Could he replicate it? Was it dangerous? He recalled the moment of enlightenment -- it was like shining a light through a layered crystal, suddenly chancing upon one layer that, while being a fraction of a millimeter thick, stretched out for miles -- and he felt his thoughts skittering off across this plane like a spider on iceskates.

And so he smiled, inwardly. He had chanced upon an engine of the mind.

Part II: Engines of the mind.

Humanity: the greatest story ever told. On a rock in a cosmos full of rocks there was sentience. Watch as it discovers the workings of the world around it, and the world withing its body -- within its cage.

Will aged many years in the next few months. He'd always been independent -- shunning the blanketing, smothering safety of society, but as his parents divorced he found his life became, essentially, a one-man show. He learnt how to survive on very little money -- which isn't hard, just dumping the frills and learning to eat your hunger. But he still carried on -- going to school and doing the thing, eating, sleeping, getting up again, going to school, doing the thing...

He began to see his peers as... not something to be equal to, perhaps, but something to be protected -- herded. He knew how they thinked.

But then, one day in June,

To hell with this.

I don't know what it was -- but she fell for me and I couldn't repel her. I had turned sour, and I wouldn't trust myself with my wallet. But there she was. As beautiful as the day and headstrong and pure -- a thinker. I hadn't yet grasped the concept of being Kandred by then.

But I didn't, and still don't love what love is. I was alone for a long, long time. But it's the best I have. Sorry, had.

We spent hours together. Reading, writing, talking -- just existing. By the battered old mill, down by the river. And if it got cold, we'd huddle close. She was alone, and she fell for the guy in the donkey jacket. And it was what I lived for. She was... like a best friend, companion and partner, all at once. Always curious, always inquiring, always thinking up new points of view.

And she became my responsibility, in a more... equal way. Her birthmonth was shared with my own, and it was my duty to protect her.

Which it turned out I fail at, but hey.

It was April the third when William Copper finally, well, fell from grace, I suppose. As well as a roof. And this world.

We were on the roof of the old mill. It's old and unused, but its flat stone roof is sturdy. We had tea there. A hoi-sin and plum stir fry. Her favorite. Sorry I keep using semisingular pronouns, but speaking her name brings me pain. It's been... twenty years.

And then, for a while -- it was silent. And as the sunset, we listened to the river, and we were the the only things that existed, the only things that mattered. And she was leaning on my left side, and I was gently flexing the fingers of my right hand. And we were, the greatest gift and the sun reeled overhead. And the moon and the stars turned, slowly, under us.

And my mind wandered. Through all those small passageways, down the corridors you so often miss, through the door deep in shadow, and then it walked for eighty miles or so -- until it came to a plane. And here it set itself. Deep.

And I felt it rising. As my subconscious brought itself out into the light, my mind came sprinting out after it. Something was very seriously and suddenly wrong, and it was here.

It was an amazing sensation in my mind, a burning sense of destruction. It... stung. My hand twitched, suddenly, and the feeling intensified. Sarah, damnit, screamed.

And there was the obsidian sheen. I stood, shaking -- the pain tearing at my nerve endings and racking my body. I could feel it gnawing at my mind. My mind, those quiet bits at the back, had linked itself to the movement of my hand. Every... damn... movement caused a reaction. It was bitter and stinging and cold and harsh and cruel. I could feel my mind slipping, losing track -- my mind slipped between vision and darkness, dreams and reality -- life and death, and then I couldn't tell which one was which. The convulsions caused, causing my hand to jitter, intensifying it. It rings in the ears with a cold shriek.

And I saw Sarah, rolling, screaming, feeling the same pain. Dying. And there was the decision.

With the last of my sentience, I threw myself off the roof -- onto the rock below.

Part III: The greatest story ever told, re-told, and yet never made into an action movie .
The world is so much better when I don't have to faff around with formal language.

Will Copper died that day. I still have no idea what happened -- if I died, or if the whole 'Engines of the mind' thing turned me mad, or if I hit my head and am in a coma... or what.

But I woke up. Quite normally. Well, for a psycho. I writhed and my back arched and I bruised myself on the damp, stone floor. I was in... indescribable pain. My memories, and therefore my description -- I know -- just don't do it justice. No dramatic music, please, just a mute and some dramatic camera effects. Naked and alone, I burn without flame.

And, eventually, because delusions are eternal; the greatest innovation of the human mind shut itself down. Killed, by a thousand years of organism knowing only of a want to stay alive.

And then I opened my eyes.

To...

"...that hurt. Yes -- it hurt quite a bit."

A hint, kids, if you ever wake up somewhere unfamiliar: Make your first words good. They could be the words someone wants to write in a novel someday. And that person might be you -- and, trust me on this, you feel a right prig quoting yourself saying things that are deplorably stupid. It can be the difference between hard and paper back, and that's a fact.

I was lying on the cobbles.

Blinking slowly, I raised myself up onto my feet. I felt the world should be spinning or something, but it wasn't -- instead opting to be resolutely planted in place. I stumbled as the bustling crowd rocked me, and had taken my first few hesitant steps before looking behind me.

A mill. The mill.

I looked down at my clothes. The same, but somehow... rougher. I always wore simple, plain clothes -- but now they had a handmade look... and feel. My how those socks itched. A serious amount of panic set in around now. A town -- grey stone, green moss. Silver metal. Person after person, stall and cart -- the salty tang of the raging sea. A city on the coast underneath a brilliant pale sky. I spin and search for a familiar sight, any indication that this might be my hometown...

...and someone hurrying past -- a face, a flick of hair, a whiff of scent. Sarah.

I turned -- she was scurrying off through the marketplace, and her face was lost in a multitude of people. I tried to run after her -- what had she been wearing? Nothing I had ever seen before, green skirts and silver jewelery -- silk, finest cotton -- but it was her. From the delicate curve from shoulder to waist, to the complexion -- to the smile, to the walk...

And I turned, and I ran. Away from the mill and the square; I ran through the thronging streets, all so solid, and through twisting alleys. This... couldn't be real, surely. This city was far too old, and Sarah would have recognized me -- certainly. But what is sure? What is --

I was confused, afraid -- even slightly angry. What was this? Some foul afterlife? Was Sarah a devil sent to torment me -- how did I get here? What the hell is that --

I tumbled over something warm, a person -- crouching in the alley.

I fell, to a crouch. I heard the figure Sarah run, the person behind me rise and the soft, oiled 'click' of a catch being drawn back on a pistol.

But I had an athletic starting position. I swirled around, caught the gun, twisting it out of his grip the way his arm didn't want to twist, and aimed it back at his face. Of course, the recoil would have snapped my wrist and I didn't know which bit the trigger was, but I was new at this.

"You want some adivce, kid? You wanna know my motto?" The man spoke gently, quietly and refinedly. I nodded, gently -- suddenly realizing that I couldn't shoot him, or anyone.

"Never load a gun."

And... so on and so forth. And it turned out that it was... I don't know if it was real. Inescapable, that's the word. Once I considered jumping off the mill again, but -- of course -- I could not manage it upon my return. I had, seamlessly, slipped from one life to the next. No way to get back -- no story, no hope, no choice but to be taken on the ride. Turned out the man in the alley was Harper -- a traveler who took me under his wing. Well, helped me to get under my own.

The state I found myself in was Sondossa -- a kind of theocratic tax haven where merchants and hard workers looking for a refuge from the riots and social broca of the plains. In a defensive highland, Sondossa had neither the desire nor the means for war.

And when war happened, seven years after our meeting, we were forced, abruptly, to part. And then I came to the attention of the shakre network, and got mixed up in the skraelyn conflicts, and stopped the Is-Karina massacre, and so on and so forth. I did good, but I never rested -- never let my feet touch the ground. I was forced to adapt time and time again to varying situations -- forced to make things up as I went along every day. And it wasn't my life I was toying with, because this isn't real. It's other people's.

But it's not real. None of this is real. It doesn't matter -- it's all a dream. A figment of my imagination, right? I was just some kid with a desire to change the world, and life gave me a whole new one to play with. But these people seem just as real as those that I knew. Just as real, if not more so.

And here I have lived -- here I have grown.

What can you do?

And so I sit here -- on the eve of the mightiest war that this world has seen for centuries. And I have dedicated my last hours to write my story in this book.

And maybe, somehow, my tales will find their way back home.


Tales Of The Traveler (In chronological order)

The Battle at Star hill {Tourney: Round 1} (Exarius, Mokujin) [Concluded]
I don't dance like that. {Tourney: Round 2} (...noone, evidently) [Concluded]
The old Virginia Lowlands {Tourney: Round 3} (Zorolo, Lysis) [Concluded]
Common Ground {Tourney: Round 4} (Librarian) [Concluded(ish)]

Tales of the Storm;
And all the fun things that surround the death of a continent.
The New Alston Aviators (Altamira) [Ongoing]