The Tower of Druaga (heroic fantasy- p.II / Open)
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avouleance2nd said:
[img/]http://images.wikia.com/tardis/images/b/be/Series5weepingangels.jpg[/img]
Weeping Angels
1 - Stealth: no one expects a statue
2 - Time Travel: Feed on temporal potential. When they feed, they send the leftovers back in time.
3 - Empowered by not being seen: While watched, they cannot move; thus "empowered by not being seen".
Weeping Angels
1 - Stealth: no one expects a statue
2 - Time Travel: Feed on temporal potential. When they feed, they send the leftovers back in time.
3 - Empowered by not being seen: While watched, they cannot move; thus "empowered by not being seen".
Is weird that as soon as I saw a character that small my first thought was "I am most likely going to turn her into a projectile at some point"?
Name: Fortis Charismatum
Age: 50
Gender: male
Height/weight: 6 feet 1 inch. 225 pounds.
Appearance: His face=
He is a thick, muscular man. He wears a heavy steel chest plate and helmet, but the rest of his armor is light leather. Except for the silver gloves that cover his hands and stretch to his elbows with a 2 inch blade on each knuckle. This mismatched assortment of clothing may look to be thrown together, but it suits all of his needs in combat.
History: Fortis's father was a miner. He never knew his mother due to her death during child birth. His father was a very charismatic man who was able to often convince his employers to give raises to the various employees when the cost of living went up and he was able to convince his fellow workers to protest whenever his superiors did something unjust. His father always refused promotion because he both liked his job and he loved the people he worked with. Fortis lived moderately well until he turned 18. Is father booted him from the home so Fortis could go make it on his own. Fortis however did not fly when he was pushed out of the proverbial nest. He fell into extreme poverty and lived on the streets unable to find work in his overcrowded area. In the end he assaulted a city guard out of desperation. At least in prison he was fed at least twice a day. However, twice a week the guards staged brawls. You either volunteer or hoped someone else would. Fortis volunteered to prevent someone else from having to. The man he was pitted against was a notorious psycho and was known to be one of the toughest people in the prison...at least until he was knocked unconscious in under a minute. On that day Fortis got a taste for hand to hand combat. He took on all comers and defeated each and every one over the course of the next two years. Then at the age of twenty one Fortis became a professional fighter. For twenty nine years he toured the world taking on anyone who thought they had a chance. He fought over 150 bouts and won nearly everyone. When he lost it was by decision. Fortis was inept in all categories except for hand to hand combat and charisma. He was slow, clumsy with any kind of weapon, and had poor survival skills. But when it came to unarmed combat and smooth talking he had no betters. But as he grew older winning became more and more difficult. Fortis realized that five years ago he could have beaten all of his opponents soundly but every day he gets a little bit slower and a little bit weaker. He knew that if he kept fighting he would at some point meet his better. Even worse, his father was dying of black lung. Then over the next several months he watch his father slowly die until he was a husk no longer capable of functioning before the poor man finally passed away. Fortis decided that he would not go out like that. He would not let himself grow old and sick until he was unrecognizable. He wanted to go out swinging and near his prime. So he decided to attempt the impossible. Scale the Tower of Druaga. He would either die valiantly or he would gain the ability to never age again.
Reason to be here: To die valiantly or live forever.
Personality: He is always thinking and usually talking. These are traits that he got from his father. He however has a very long fuse. It takes quite a bit to make him angry. Though he likes to be firmly in his comfort zone and tends to avoid doing anything new. (Hence having the same job for nearly a third of a century.)
Notable skills: A master of hand to hand combat and a great speaker. Though if you due somehow manage to piss him off he fights significantly better, to the point of being just about superhuman. And he is just plain strong so he can lift large weights. Fortis also has extreme levels of endurance.
Equipment: A canteen, his armor, a bedroll, some food rations, and the Large inheritance his father left him(He apparently saved a good portion of every pay check.) and a large amount of his own money.
Age: 50
Gender: male
Height/weight: 6 feet 1 inch. 225 pounds.
Appearance: His face=
He is a thick, muscular man. He wears a heavy steel chest plate and helmet, but the rest of his armor is light leather. Except for the silver gloves that cover his hands and stretch to his elbows with a 2 inch blade on each knuckle. This mismatched assortment of clothing may look to be thrown together, but it suits all of his needs in combat.
History: Fortis's father was a miner. He never knew his mother due to her death during child birth. His father was a very charismatic man who was able to often convince his employers to give raises to the various employees when the cost of living went up and he was able to convince his fellow workers to protest whenever his superiors did something unjust. His father always refused promotion because he both liked his job and he loved the people he worked with. Fortis lived moderately well until he turned 18. Is father booted him from the home so Fortis could go make it on his own. Fortis however did not fly when he was pushed out of the proverbial nest. He fell into extreme poverty and lived on the streets unable to find work in his overcrowded area. In the end he assaulted a city guard out of desperation. At least in prison he was fed at least twice a day. However, twice a week the guards staged brawls. You either volunteer or hoped someone else would. Fortis volunteered to prevent someone else from having to. The man he was pitted against was a notorious psycho and was known to be one of the toughest people in the prison...at least until he was knocked unconscious in under a minute. On that day Fortis got a taste for hand to hand combat. He took on all comers and defeated each and every one over the course of the next two years. Then at the age of twenty one Fortis became a professional fighter. For twenty nine years he toured the world taking on anyone who thought they had a chance. He fought over 150 bouts and won nearly everyone. When he lost it was by decision. Fortis was inept in all categories except for hand to hand combat and charisma. He was slow, clumsy with any kind of weapon, and had poor survival skills. But when it came to unarmed combat and smooth talking he had no betters. But as he grew older winning became more and more difficult. Fortis realized that five years ago he could have beaten all of his opponents soundly but every day he gets a little bit slower and a little bit weaker. He knew that if he kept fighting he would at some point meet his better. Even worse, his father was dying of black lung. Then over the next several months he watch his father slowly die until he was a husk no longer capable of functioning before the poor man finally passed away. Fortis decided that he would not go out like that. He would not let himself grow old and sick until he was unrecognizable. He wanted to go out swinging and near his prime. So he decided to attempt the impossible. Scale the Tower of Druaga. He would either die valiantly or he would gain the ability to never age again.
Reason to be here: To die valiantly or live forever.
Personality: He is always thinking and usually talking. These are traits that he got from his father. He however has a very long fuse. It takes quite a bit to make him angry. Though he likes to be firmly in his comfort zone and tends to avoid doing anything new. (Hence having the same job for nearly a third of a century.)
Notable skills: A master of hand to hand combat and a great speaker. Though if you due somehow manage to piss him off he fights significantly better, to the point of being just about superhuman. And he is just plain strong so he can lift large weights. Fortis also has extreme levels of endurance.
Equipment: A canteen, his armor, a bedroll, some food rations, and the Large inheritance his father left him(He apparently saved a good portion of every pay check.) and a large amount of his own money.
Name: His Lordship, Master of the Emperor's piece, Defender of the Baitley Drifts Lord Jack Dodger, Marquis of Whaiteford
Age & Gender: 28 year old male
Height & Weight: 6'2", 182 lbs
Appearance
History: His Lordship Jack Dodger was born into a powerful aristocractic family in the Hartley Empire on the floor known as Orrawn (pronounced OH-raw-nn), Jack grew up being taught the virtues of the Empire and his Highness Emperor Dios the Third. Though he never really bought in to the obviously exagerated histories of the empire, he accepted that the order brought about by the empire was far better than the anarchy without, so he sat quiet in his lessons, had high marks from his tutor and generally partook in the life of a bored adolescant aristocrat.
By the time he came of age, dissent among the squabbling outward hamlets had evolved into full scale revolt against the Empire, and the province of Whaiteford found itself on the front lines. Loyal to the Empire and all but surrounded by revolutionary forces, young Jack Dodger prooved himself quite the marksman, as well as a devious and cunning tactician.
The enemy, however, were cunning too.
Rebel saboteurs used the mass of underground glaciers around the area to undermine the Dodger estate, causing it to tumble through the level and into the one belowit. Luckily, there were few home at that point; many of the servants and all the womwn had been evacuated and Lord Dodger Senior had been out in the field at the time. This meant that only Jack and a few servants had been ejected from Orrawn that day. Of them Jack was the only survivor, out of luck more than anything else. He emerged from the wreckage with naught more than a broken wrist, a few broken ribs and a bit of shrapnel, thanking the the gods for absurdly soft featherdown mattresses.
Waiting a full year for his wounds to heal, the young lord began his climb back up to his homeland, arriving to find the war over, the Empire as stable as it had ever been and his father dead. For his amazing treck, the Emperor awarded him with the honourary title of Defender of the Baitley Drifts, as well as the titles of his late father.
After returning more-or-less to routine, Jack found himself Becoming more and more bored with his post-war life. No skin-of-your-teeth close encounters, no thousand soldiers struggling to capture a long lost hill, none of the thrill of climbing back up home, only the occasional revolutionary assassin to liven things up.
So, on the eve of the fifth anniversary of his return home, he prepared for a journey that he was sure he wouldn't return. He would climb Druaga.
Reason to be here/things to do: Fun, pure and simple. His Lordship seeks the thrill of the climb, nothing more.
Personality: Generally friendly, but with what can only be desribed as an addiction to snark which makes relationships difficult. Good humoured, yet vengeful with a tendency to believe that he knows better than those around him thanks to his upbringing telling him just that. Values his intellect and expresses distaste for those who use brute force to solve their problems.
Notable skills: An excellent marksman and decent swordsman, a natural apptitude for languages, a clever tactician (a fact that clearly carries over into his conversations) and a working knowledge of the laws of physics commonly shared between levels. Has a pleasant singing voice.
Equipment: 2 concealed pouches of moderate size containing various precious metals and stones to barter, a musket made of brass, steel and a bone handle, all hardened with an oil-based finish bolstered by the cold, attached to a sharpened piece of the unique stone-like substance that hangs like stalactites from Orrawn's highest points (more expensive than platinum, stronger than steel, cuts better than diamond), several dozen bullets filled with a highly explosive mixture of dragon's breath and Crystaline Winter- the odd blue substance that permeates Orrawn's air and brings permenant winter to the level.
Along with this, he carries a saber made of folded steel and covered in crystaline winter, a bed-roll, a month of rations, a bottle of painkillers, a 20 foot rope with attachable grappling hook and 5 square yards of cloth.
Age & Gender: 28 year old male
Height & Weight: 6'2", 182 lbs
Appearance
History: His Lordship Jack Dodger was born into a powerful aristocractic family in the Hartley Empire on the floor known as Orrawn (pronounced OH-raw-nn), Jack grew up being taught the virtues of the Empire and his Highness Emperor Dios the Third. Though he never really bought in to the obviously exagerated histories of the empire, he accepted that the order brought about by the empire was far better than the anarchy without, so he sat quiet in his lessons, had high marks from his tutor and generally partook in the life of a bored adolescant aristocrat.
By the time he came of age, dissent among the squabbling outward hamlets had evolved into full scale revolt against the Empire, and the province of Whaiteford found itself on the front lines. Loyal to the Empire and all but surrounded by revolutionary forces, young Jack Dodger prooved himself quite the marksman, as well as a devious and cunning tactician.
The enemy, however, were cunning too.
Rebel saboteurs used the mass of underground glaciers around the area to undermine the Dodger estate, causing it to tumble through the level and into the one belowit. Luckily, there were few home at that point; many of the servants and all the womwn had been evacuated and Lord Dodger Senior had been out in the field at the time. This meant that only Jack and a few servants had been ejected from Orrawn that day. Of them Jack was the only survivor, out of luck more than anything else. He emerged from the wreckage with naught more than a broken wrist, a few broken ribs and a bit of shrapnel, thanking the the gods for absurdly soft featherdown mattresses.
Waiting a full year for his wounds to heal, the young lord began his climb back up to his homeland, arriving to find the war over, the Empire as stable as it had ever been and his father dead. For his amazing treck, the Emperor awarded him with the honourary title of Defender of the Baitley Drifts, as well as the titles of his late father.
After returning more-or-less to routine, Jack found himself Becoming more and more bored with his post-war life. No skin-of-your-teeth close encounters, no thousand soldiers struggling to capture a long lost hill, none of the thrill of climbing back up home, only the occasional revolutionary assassin to liven things up.
So, on the eve of the fifth anniversary of his return home, he prepared for a journey that he was sure he wouldn't return. He would climb Druaga.
Reason to be here/things to do: Fun, pure and simple. His Lordship seeks the thrill of the climb, nothing more.
Personality: Generally friendly, but with what can only be desribed as an addiction to snark which makes relationships difficult. Good humoured, yet vengeful with a tendency to believe that he knows better than those around him thanks to his upbringing telling him just that. Values his intellect and expresses distaste for those who use brute force to solve their problems.
Notable skills: An excellent marksman and decent swordsman, a natural apptitude for languages, a clever tactician (a fact that clearly carries over into his conversations) and a working knowledge of the laws of physics commonly shared between levels. Has a pleasant singing voice.
Equipment: 2 concealed pouches of moderate size containing various precious metals and stones to barter, a musket made of brass, steel and a bone handle, all hardened with an oil-based finish bolstered by the cold, attached to a sharpened piece of the unique stone-like substance that hangs like stalactites from Orrawn's highest points (more expensive than platinum, stronger than steel, cuts better than diamond), several dozen bullets filled with a highly explosive mixture of dragon's breath and Crystaline Winter- the odd blue substance that permeates Orrawn's air and brings permenant winter to the level.
Along with this, he carries a saber made of folded steel and covered in crystaline winter, a bed-roll, a month of rations, a bottle of painkillers, a 20 foot rope with attachable grappling hook and 5 square yards of cloth.
I was going for a "bored aristocrat" feel, but yes, the man is an adrenaline junkie
yeah, I said that I'll let you guys go first and if we're voting then I personally vote for Ray first. We do need this decided.Raynoson said:
Wait, so your characters name is T and A?avouleance2nd said:
Pfffffffffffffffft HAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA.
Unintended innuendo.