Characters Characters - RPG Crossing
RPG Crossing Home Forums Create An Account! Site Rules & Help

RPG Crossing
twitter facebook facebook


Thread Tools
Old Apr 28th, 2014, 10:34 PM
goatmeal's Avatar
goatmeal goatmeal is offline
/ing fiction from reality
User Statistics
Last Visit: Jun 4th, 2023
RPXP: 13633
goatmeal goatmeal goatmeal goatmeal goatmeal goatmeal goatmeal goatmeal goatmeal goatmeal goatmeal
Posts: 5,047

Post your character info here, as from your application, plus a link to your character sheet when it is ready.

On hiatus while I figure out my gender.
Checkout my games at itchio.
my mailbox is full, but you can reach me on twitter: @goatmealery

Last edited by goatmeal; Apr 29th, 2014 at 01:37 PM.
Reply With Quote
Old Apr 28th, 2014, 10:49 PM
iwood2465's Avatar
iwood2465 iwood2465 is offline
Just a person
User Statistics
Last Visit: Feb 24th, 2017
RPXP: 3502
iwood2465 iwood2465 iwood2465 iwood2465 iwood2465 iwood2465 iwood2465 iwood2465 iwood2465 iwood2465 iwood2465
Posts: 1,828
Good to be here, and congrats to the others. Here's the sheet. Mostly done, though I'm still tinkering with a few mechanics.
A look at Orlan Fleeting.
left-aligned image
Name: Orlan Fleeting | Heritage: Halfling, Westcrown, Servile Halfling | Class: Ranger (Guide Archetype) | Alignment: Chaotic Good
Age: 26 | Gender: Male | Height 3' 5" | Weight: 34 lbs | Worship: Chaldira Zuzaristan (Loosely)

Appearance and PersonalityDescription: Orlan Fleeting is tall and lean, at least for a halfling. His dark brown hair is worn in intricate braids, and his grey-green eyes are piercing and intense. His clothes are worn, but he takes care in keeping them in fine condition. He also bears an impressive number of scars, though most of them he keeps hidden.

Orlan tries his best to remain calm and observant, as he has found less trouble with humans in this way. He is naturally good-hearted, especially to the downtrodden, and takes pains in helping people wherever he can; it's this habit that earns him many scars. Despite his good nature, he is somewhat arrogant, secretly looking down on most of the other races, while always trying to appear servile.

Background: Orlan Fleeting, a slave of a minor and crumbling house clinging onto the last shreds of power, looks over the clearing in the Ramble Gardens with a confusing combination of hope and revulsion. His mind is filled with the color red; the fiery color of the setting sun above and the shocking crimson of blood that slowly disappears into the dark soil at his feet. The lifeblood of a human, his former master. He takes ragged breaths of air as he looks at the other two present. One is a human servant to the dead lord and a fool of a man. The other is revolting tiefling scum and the one who struck down his master. The shouted words of the arrogant human servant and whispered plea of the twisted devilspawn still ring in his mind.

"Master!... You're dead, creature of hell! And you, halfing dog! You could have taken that blow, but you just watched! Kill the criminal, and we'll see if you can escape with your head attached, bastard slave."

"Wait, no... please don't. There are other ways... and you don't have to be a slave anymore..."

Orlan takes a step back, his mind reeling at the unexpected events, at the words spoken to him and he is at a loss. On one hand, he had always worked for this family, as had several generations of his kin. The human, though a fool and his overseer, relied on his skill and woodcraft, on his ability in the stables... surely, he wouldn't die over this? But on the other hand, if the evil scum is right, maybe he could make his own life. A free life to help his family, his friends, or even the entire halfling race. But to trust a tiefling...

'By Chaldira, how did it ever come to this...'

A lifetime leading to death...Unlike many free and abandoned halflings in Westcrown, Orlan was born into service of a noble family still clinging to dying ways in the Parego Spera. Though living conditions for his family, and for most halfling slaves in general were abominable, as a youth he truly felt that life was good. He worked hard, played with his extended family as much as he could and did his best to take care of everyone. Against the hardship, his venerable elders taught him that halflings were the backbone of any civilization, with their luck and their knack of finding the best of any situation. They also told him of Chaldira Zuzaristan, and what she stands for. So he came to believe that the fate of Westcrown, and of Cheliax, lies more in the hands of the halflings than any other; a belief that filled the young halfling with pride.

As he was growing up, it became clear that young Orlan was one of the best and brightest in his family, which led to greater amounts of chores and a lot of trouble, though he was rarely punished for trouble he actually participated in. Orlan was the sort to steal extra food for his family, or protect the animals from being overworked and to put things right before they were discovered. And with his quick feet and respectful attitude, he was rarely caught. However, when others were in trouble, he had a tendency to put himself in harms way for them, which often earned him the strap, the whip or worse. This gained him a reputation among his owners as a troublemaker, and his punishments were harsh. And though the overseers and masters closest to the halflings knew he wasn't behind some of the offenses, that didn't lessen the punishment or their enjoyment of it; after all, if one dog is punished, then the rest should take the lesson. Especially if it's one that others look up to.

As he came into adulthood, he became a valued slave for his abilities with animals and, more importantly, his skill in hunting and tracking. Working with his overseer and a small team, he made sure that his noble lords had the best meat, the best hunting expeditions and, in terms of the greatest thrills, the best sentient prey. Criminals and scum that wouldn't be missed, these were taken to the Ramble Gardens in Parego Dospera and hunted for sport. During these events, for the most part, Orlan took few actions in the slaughter of their prey; that would be stealing the thrill from his 'betters', an offense that would earn the ranger more stripes. More than that, though, the hunt is almost as revered to the halfling as the flow of luck.

Orlan, considering his life and the events of the day, comes to realize that things couldn't have turned out any other way. The master was outmatched, and had had his final thrill. The situation now belongs to the halfling slave. Despite the accusations of the fool human, to intervene would have only served to cheapen the hunt. But the choice is at hand...

'Do I stay... close to those I love, close to the beatings? Stay in the life that I've always had? Or do I grasp for more, for a better life? Was this turn of bad luck meant to be? It must have been...' With those thoughts, Orlan decides that he cannot let this chance go to waste, no matter how horrific the source of the opportunity is. Turning to his human overseer, Orlan Fleeting offers one last bow, displaying an almost perfect show of subservience, which brings a cruel smile to the man's face. A smile that doesn't last through the halfling's next words, "It's been a pleasure to serve, master. But those days are now at an end. I'm sorry..."

The human's eyes widen in shock, before the man turns on his heels to run. But, he doesn't get far as Orlan raises his weapon, his projectile firing and bringing a second human to the ground. With the deed done, he turns his suddenly intense eyes to the tiefling, "Be gone, devil scum. And remember, if I can't make a better situation from this, then I'll see my revenge on you before I fall." With those words, Orlan watches the tiefling run into the shadows and turns away from the sunset to find some shelter for the night.

Questions and AnswersQuestion 1A: Why do you dislike the government of Westcrown? Despite Orlan's initial happiness as a child, growing into an adult in the grips of slavery was not the easiest of lives. Further, being thrust into the dark side of bloodlust, as well as seeing the slave trade up close, Orlan has seen how bad life in Westcrown can be. So, in the halfling's opinion, he believes that humans are no better than halflings, and most of them are quite a bit worse. For the other races, he doesn't have much of an opinion beyond normal racial stereotypes.

Question 1B: Why do you still love Westcrown in spite of this? Orlan loves Westcrown, and even Cheliax, because it is his home and that's where his family is. Unlike many of his kind, he doesn't feel the itch of wanderlust. There's plenty to explore still, just within the city and the region. He believes that halflings can rise to a better place in society, and in doing so, society will be much better.

Question 2: There’s someone recruiting people for a sort of citizen’s watch. How would someone come to realize that you might be interested in something like this? Having just recently broken the bonds of slavery, especially with a witness, Orlan would need a place to hide for a while. I imagine, that when things calm down a bit, he would also need a place where he could find support. Perhaps the tiefling knows of, or is a part, of this citizen's watch?

Optional: What racial tensions have you been around or have you directly experienced? As a slave, Orlan was abused and ridiculed by humans for pretty much his entire life. Despite this, and his ability to keep their arrogance satisfied, the halfling ranger has his own type of reverse racist thoughts. He dislikes humans and thinks of them as gullible fools and brutes. Despite the disdain he holds for humans, it's also only humans and halflings that he knows well, so he holds many of the same prejudices that humans do.

The lifestyle of most halfling slaves are especially horrid. They're valued as slaves partly because of their small size, so their living conditions tend to be less than adequate. I imagine dirty quarters very like a dog or cat kennel, in an effort to squeeze as many slaves into place as possible. They're also valued or abused much like animals, instead of actual beings. They eat whatever's left, so many fall to malnutrition. They also get in trouble for things they don't do; a human servant breaks something and blames a halfling slave, and nobody would blink an eyelash at the injustice.

NotesAs noted above, the heritage trait I'm taking is the Servile Halfling trait. The campaign trait will either be Westcrown Firebrand or Obsequious. The flaw will probably be Mark of Slavery, though Family Ties would fit in as well.

For the character, I have two different build types in mind, which I'll choose from depending on the skills of the party. Ranged combat will be the main focus, though I may switch hit a little. Either I'll be very sneaky, or I'll add in some face-like characteristics.

"In the land I now know to be mine -
with a heart so dark its near blind..."

Last edited by iwood2465; May 6th, 2014 at 04:15 AM.
Reply With Quote
Old Apr 28th, 2014, 11:11 PM
Aethera's Avatar
Aethera Aethera is online now
spinning in circles
User Statistics
Last Visit: Jun 5th, 2023
RPXP: 53141
Aethera Aethera Aethera Aethera Aethera Aethera Aethera Aethera Aethera Aethera Aethera
Posts: 19,243
Likewise happy to be here! I've trimmed back the text from my application in hopes of not straining anyone overmuch with wall-o-text. The full text remains in my app thread. I'll update as I complete the character mechanics.

left-aligned image
Name: Valerya Luthier (Val, Rya, various rude things not worth repeating...)

Concept: 22-yr-old half-elven female instrumentalist with a penchant for nasty vengeance
Mentality: Knowledge is power.

Physical: 5'10", 155lb, female half-elf

Skillset: archaeologist (bard archetype, the roguish end of things)
Musical Talents: some experience crafting instruments, talented at playing stringed instruments, voice better suited to a secondary/harmony line or storytelling

Alignment: True Neutral
Tendencies: angry young woman always on the fringe, done many things she regrets were necessary, lashes out easily (CN)





Hypothetical Questions Posed to ValeryaWhy do you dislike the government of Westcrown?
Westcrown? It's not Westcrown, it's Cheliax. I've delivered instruments to some of Arvanxi's pet musicians, and once my cousin and I brought a harp to Parego Regicona ourselves since the musician didn't trust anyone but my family to touch it. Damn thing probably would've bought a Spera family food for a year. Westcrown isn't the problem. It's vile because Cheliax is vile. And it's not exactly the government, either. A lot of people like Cheliax this way. They're the problem.

Why do you still love Westcrown in spite of this?
Westcrown is my home. My family has nowhere but here, and Mother's buried here. Where else would I go? Search for some father I don't know, nor give two sh*ts about? No. But there's still some things worth having here, even if they're few and far between. We used to be the capital, didn't we? Not everything from that time is gone, just buried. If we could regain some of that, we might actually be a city of renown again.

There’s someone recruiting people for a sort of citizen’s watch. How would someone come to realize that you might be interested in something like this?
If someone followed me when I was trying to take time to myself, it's likely they would have found my preference for peace, justice, and knowledge... though since the dottari never caught me trying to sneak in to Delvehaven, I can't imagine anyone else has seen it.

First ImpressionsSimeon White (moozuba): Hellspawn, and with a shifty look about you at that. Keep your distance, hornhead. I’ll have nothing to do with you, thanks.

Balthasar Leroung (DukeofTuring): From experience if nothing else, I immediately distrust any Wiscrani with such a look of focus on his face. Who’s to say what devilry he may be intent upon?

Kria Voss (Darkling): I’ve seen you around, haven’t I? You’re the one causing the whispers about half-elves’ loyalties, right? If you think fame is going to protect you, sister, you’ve got something else coming. (Should Val realize Kria is a tiefling, she'd have a lot of four-letter words to share...)

Nicodemus Lacian (Aeternis): You’re making waves, nobleman, and it’s not going to do you well. The Wiscrani rumor mill is no friend of yours. Speaking of which, haven't I seen you somewhere, few years back?

Orlan (iwood) -- app wasn't finished when I did exercise, I'll review shortly

Status: Here goes nothing...
GM of Ill-Met by Gloomlightpronouns: she/her ✦ Posting: All systems go.
My Site ShtuffsNom Great Posts!BBcode FAQAsk Me Anything

Last edited by Aethera; May 1st, 2014 at 05:49 PM.
Reply With Quote
Old Apr 28th, 2014, 11:18 PM
Aeternis's Avatar
Aeternis Aeternis is offline
Ancient Azure Anathema
User Statistics
Last Visit: May 8th, 2023
RPXP: 22744
Aeternis Aeternis Aeternis Aeternis Aeternis Aeternis Aeternis Aeternis Aeternis Aeternis Aeternis
Posts: 10,488
At A Glance
left-aligned image
Name: Nicodemus Lacian [sheet]
Race/Gender: Proud Wiscrani heritage traitChelian human, male
Class: worships Sarenrae.
Domains: Light[Sun], Fire
Alignment: NG/TN
Age: 23
Role: Blaster cleric, melee combatant, zealot
Flavor: Wiscrani minor noble who went off to fight in a war in distant Kelesh, returning with new perspective on his homeland.
First Impressions”Nico” Lacian, despite being a usually dark-haired, light-skinned Chelian, is fairly tan, owing to his several years living in Kelesh. This, combined with the Kelesh-made scimitar he carries, often combine to create an amusingly wrong first impression, one which is broken the moment he opens his mouth and speaks the local language and dialect as only a native can. He wears his dark hair long, usually held back with a headband but sometimes also tied into a simple pony-tail when it suits him.

Under the tan, Nico’s features are all Chelian - he has a strong, aquiline nose, dark eyes, and would have a beard as thick and dark as the hair on his head if it was not local fashion among Wiscrani nobles to be clean-shaven or to have only small moustaches and/or goatees. Nico’s height and girth are not impressive by human standards, but he’s fit and lean, where many noble Chelians are slightly chubby or out of shape.
Deeper thingsThough Nicodemus Lacian is hardly an old man, he still often talks about his “younger days” - he is referring to the time before he converted to the Church of Sarenrae. Though he speaks as if his conversion and life since is the greater part of his existence, he is a fairly recent convert; his battlefield revelation was little more than a year ago. Where before that, Nico was a callous, vain young man, he is neither in his new incarnation - he errs toward compassion and humility wherever he can, often only by conscious effort where old habits and desires threaten to return to the fore. Nico has found in the weeks since his return to Westcrown that the old city and the memories contained therein have made it harder for him to keep his remembered old self from surfacing - his relatives very much dislike the “New Nico” and most expect that his conversion is merely a phase that he’ll mature out of in a few months or years. A few might admit that the "New Nico" is far easier to get along with, though in terms they better understand - they would say that his travels have helped him find a maturity lacking when he departed.

There are also traits of his old self that Nico's conversion has, if anything, epmhasized. For example, he has always been a bit too impulsive for his own good, and he often reacts poorly when his flaws are publically spoken of (even if the same words spoken in private would be welcomed now). Nico also has a bit of a temper and tends toward vengeful retaliation in the heat of the moment, especially when his beliefs or goddess are maligned, but he does not hold anger over a long time or plot distant revenge. No matter how serious the offense he's been dealt, the offender can be almost guaranteed that Nico will forget the offense in the face of a sincere (or sincere-sounding) attempt to make amends. Obviously, what constitutes making amends varies from offense to offense - a verbal apology would suffice for a spoken slight, but not for serious physical injury caused to one of Nico's friends.

Nico is neither notably taciturn nor overly garrulous, but once he starts talking it's often difficult for him to know when he should stop, leading sometimes to awkward trailings-off mid sentence when he catches himself rambling on. The man is also fiercely protective of people who share his faith, and to a lesser degree of those who share his goals and ideals, but have different faiths (or no faith, which Nico would say is a kind of faith all its own). He once prized highly his social standing, as an avenue to power and wealth, but since his return Nico has avoided the company of his noble relatives and associates as much as possible, preferring instead the company of people who are less scornful of his beliefs.
Adjusting to relocation and new job. I appreciate your patience.
--[ A Guide to Applications ]--

Last edited by Aeternis; Apr 29th, 2014 at 11:41 PM.
Reply With Quote
Old Apr 29th, 2014, 12:37 AM
DukeofTuring's Avatar
DukeofTuring DukeofTuring is offline
Back in green
User Statistics
Last Visit: Jul 11th, 2020
RPXP: 9990
DukeofTuring DukeofTuring DukeofTuring DukeofTuring DukeofTuring DukeofTuring DukeofTuring DukeofTuring DukeofTuring DukeofTuring DukeofTuring
Posts: 8,170
Name: Balthasar Leroung
Heritage: Human, born in Westcrown, educated and trained in Egorian, and a resident again of Westcrown for the past year and a half. "Proud Wiscrani" heritage trait, losing "Profession".
Alignment: Somewhere between N and NE. Although he admires and advocates lawful behavior among society at large, Balthasar's mood and methods often are less than stable in practice. A driven man from a ruthless society, he also usually has little concern for the well being of others as individuals, although malice isn't among the primary factors motivating him either.
Class: Conjurer, preferably of the Infernal Binder subschool.
Campaign Trait and Drawback: Conspiracy Hunter (more concerning Devils and the Chelish Government than the Council of Thieves), Xenophobic
Bonus Skills: Knowledge: Knowledge (Nobility)Could have easily been Knowledge (Local) instead, so don't read *too* much into my choice*, Occupation: Knowledge (Arcana)




Every planet we reach is dead

Last edited by DukeofTuring; May 3rd, 2014 at 10:26 PM.
Reply With Quote
Old Apr 29th, 2014, 07:28 AM
moozuba's Avatar
moozuba moozuba is offline
Great Wyrm
Good People  

Event Judge  

Former Staff  

Iron DM 2015  

Hall of Fame 2014  

Hall of Fame DM 2016
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 20th, 2022
RPXP: 43321
moozuba moozuba moozuba moozuba moozuba moozuba moozuba moozuba moozuba moozuba moozuba
Posts: 7,851
Simeon White, Version 2.0
left-aligned image
Simeon White, Tiefling Ranger

Heritage: Tiefling, Westcrown, Tiefling Scum & Conspiracy Hunter
Alignment: True Neutral
Background: Simeon is the classic tale of the local boy gone bad. He grew up in the care of his educated and wealthy uncle, Dr. Jarvis White. Jarvis did what he could to shelter young Simeon from the harsh realities of Cheliax's obscene racism, but ever since he could walk Simeon knew that he was different... and that different was bad. While his uncle taught him not to be ashamed of his heritage, he also cautioned him not to antagonize the humans and to wear a hood when going out in public. Sim learned the ugly truth about how some humans viewed him at age six when he was caught playing in the street by some Dottari who accused him of pickpocketing and beat him severely in spite of the fact that there was no evidence to support the crime. He learned some new words that day, also. Some words that are still etched upon his mind. "Hellborn," "demonchild," "succubusf*****" and worse. A week later his already rude awakening was heightened by the death of one of his occasional playmates, a little Tiefling girl by the name of Mia who lived in the same rundown neighborhood as Simeon.

As a teenager and young adult, he was an active part of a passive resistance and community organizing movement within the Tiefling community, headed by his uncle, a former professor of history and law educated in Absalom. The focus was upon persuading the notoriously reclusive and individualistic Tieflings of Westcrown to come together in an effort to raise public support for legislation that would promote racial equality and rights for Tieflings (as well as Halflings). As soon as The Resistance began to gain some popular support, even among certain influential humans, White and three of his followers were brutally murdered en route to a meeting with the Lord Mayor and a handful of influential noblemen. Support for the resistance among the humans immediately evaporated, the Tieflings reverted to the old ways of hiding away instead of challenging the status quo, and Dr. White was forgotten to all but the tattered remnants of the movement he began.

Simeon attempted to continue his uncle's community organizing efforts, attempting to bring the notoriously reclusive Tiefling population together. Strength in numbers and equality through education were the creeds, "Together!" was their motto. With White's death it all fell to dust and ash. It was out of these ashes that the phoenix of The Opposition arose -- a militant pro-Tiefling, anti-Human organization who eschewed Dr. White's teachings of peaceful resistance and non-violence. Antonio Buscarni, Mia's father, quickly rose to leadership and it was he who recruited Simeon.


Answer the following questions, preferably with some reference to your selected campaign trait. You don’t have to dogmatically follow the backstory details provided there, but you should find a way of connecting that trait to a good answer to the following:

1a) Why do you dislike the government of Westcrown? What isn't to dislike? Oppression, ineptitude, corruption, cronyism, nepotism and bigotry are the order of the day. My people are scorned by the weak and sniveling humans who like to believe themselves above the laws of both gods and nations. They are wrong. Deadly wrong.

1b) Why do you still love Westcrown in spite of this? I don't love Westcrown. I suppose I still love what Westcrown could be if everyone respected one another instead of squabbling and subjugating and playing at political games. But that will never happen. I hate Westcrown. I loathe it, but change is on the horizon. A new Westcrown is coming. A new Cheliax. A new World, in which Tieflings will claim their rightful place over the humans and then, in the day of reckoning, they will know the power of our heritage. They will taste our curse. They will die a thousand deaths at our hands, just as our children and our grandmother's have at theirs. "The fires of change burn brightly. Who will bear the torch for our people?" The call came. And I answered.

2) There’s someone recruiting people for a sort of citizen’s watch. How would someone come to realize that you might be interested in something like this? As a former member of the passive resistance and a rising star among the community organizers within the Tiefling areas of Westcrown, it only made sense that they put my name forward. My association with The Opposition hadn't yet been formalized and I was not yet a known conspirator. Antonio explained it all to me. The humans were mounting some sort of community watch program and, for whatever reason, they were permitting Tieflings to join. He felt certain it was a ruse. A feint. An empty gesture. Nonetheless, he wanted a man on the inside. Someone who believed in the cause. A Tiefling among Tieflings who would not waver either to the right or to the left. And so I smiled and I promenaded and I shook their hands, but I bore them no love. I could feel the blood that pulsed through those veins. Hot, warm, sweet... and weak. It was only a matter of time. The war was coming. The fires had already been lit. All that remained was to fan the flame and watch it burn.

Optional: Racial Tensions are a big part of what’s going on in Westcrown and potentially a big part of this game. It could be helpful to highlight whatever racial tensions your character has been around or directly experienced. If you are playing a Halfling or Tiefling, you should definitely include this. If not, it could be helpful to include your characters attitudes about race in your post. Simeon despises humans. Ever since the death of his uncle and the dissolution of the peaceful resistance, he has been unable to look upon a human without feeling a surge of seething hatred within. He has continued his uncle's work with community organization, attempting to hold the disparate strands of the Tieflings within Westcrown together in spite of resistance both from within and without, but has also taken up with a radical group bent on the eventual eradication of humans. It is in this capacity that he has murdered a handful of humans. No children. One woman who was armed and deserving. Five men... and counting.

Halflings? Simeon has no particular love for the subservient little creatures, but he bears them no ill will, either. He would not hurt one, but neither would he go out of his way to protect one. In his mind, if they have placed themselves beneath the humans' feet... they should not be so shocked when the boot falls and crushes them.

What gives with this horribly racist murderer? I thought I said I wanted characters that loved the city and its people? Yep! I get that... and want to point out that in spite of the extremist rhetoric and recently violent, hateful actions, Sim is in a perfect position to demonstrate the fact that the best and fastest way to change someone's mind about a certain group of people is to expose him to the best of them. Thus, as a new initiate into Name generic on purpose in case you want to co-opt it.The Opposition he's not yet fully brainwashed into their hateful, Tiefling-supremacist ways. His uncle always wanted peaceful coexistence and never, ever racially motivated violence. He's got a long, hard road to travel, but I think his story might provide an interesting twist on the more direct approach.

Roleplay SampleSmoke billowed from his nostrils as he sat in the doorway of a rundown tenement building. Watching. Waiting.

Tonight was the night. He would show his loyalty to The Opposition. He would prove himself to Antonio. Tonight he would take a life. No one in particular. Not this time. Whatever unlucky sap happened to wander down the wrong alley at the wrong time. A flick of the wrist, a single cut to the throat and no one would ever be the wiser.

He inhaled deeply. The cold air burned his lungs as he drew in and the smoke poured out as he exhaled. Simeon liked the effect the chill evening lent to his breath. For so long he had been called a demon, a hellspawn, a creature of the netherrealm. He liked, sometimes, to think that such things were true... that he truly did possess great powers far beyond his size and station... that his demon blood made him powerful. Not only powerful, but superior. Tonight he pretended that he could inhale flame and breathe smoke.

He was focused on his own breathing when he came -- a man in too much of a hurry for his own good. He wore a heavy coat to ward against the frigid night and moved with the graceless tottering of the drunken or aged. The perfect mark. The old ones were often the most virulent of humanity, spewing hatred and ignorance with the practiced ease of a woman watering her summer garden.

He readied himself, his fingers adjusting and readjusting on the hilt of the blade that would drink deeply of the human's blood.

Closer. Just a little closer.

The man passed within a foot of Simeon, too preoccupied with his own urgency to take notice of the horned creature lurking in the doorwell. "Lovely evening, ain't it?" Simeon's voice was low and warm and dripping with sinister intent.

The man paused... and Simeon struck.

He did it just as he'd been taught. Grab the hair, pull back the head, slit the throat. Clean, crisp, civil-like.

Except, of course, it didn't go to plan. He got a hold of the man's hair but the fat fart was so shocked by the greeting and the grasping hand from the shadows that he stumbled over his own devilsdamned feet and fell hard onto the pavement, dragging Simeon on top of him. He yelped loudly and Simeon attempted to bring the blade around to finish the task, but the man squirmed so much. Gods, WHY did he squirm so much? And the daggerpoint instead jabbed the plump human in the shoulder, drawing blood from what was honestly hardly even deep enough to call a wound. Nonetheless, the man began to scream and wail like he'd just been gutted. "Aaaaahhh!! HELP! Heeeeeeeelp!"

And so Simeon did the only thing he could do. He stabbed the man. Then again. And again. And again. Deep lacerations covered the fat man's flailing hands and he began to whimper and blubber, begging for mercy from the one creature he would never have shown mercy. And so Simeon kept on raising the blade and bringing it down... over and over... until the man stopped his crying and lay silent in the street, surrounded by a disgusting smear and growing pool of his own blood.

Simeon knelt over him, panting, thin puffs of smoke bursting from his nostrils, thicker gusts from his mouth. He was bathed in the man's blood. So much blood. I never knew they had so much blood. He looked up from the limp corpse over which he crouched and saw a small cluster of people -- Humans. Filthy humans. -- watching him aghast from the far end of the alley.

He rose slowly, blew out a long stream of smoke from his mouth and let the knife slip from his blood-soaked hand. "You're next," he growled under his breath before he turned and ran.

The night was cold. The frigid air burned his lungs.

A man was dead, killed by the hand of the Tiefling known as Simeon White.

He had done well. He had proven himself. Antonio would be pleased.

Rounding a corner and slipping into the broken-down brownstone apartment building that he called home, Simeon stood silent for a moment and then sank numbly to the floor... and began to weep.

Last edited by moozuba; Apr 29th, 2014 at 07:11 PM.
Reply With Quote
Old May 3rd, 2014, 05:55 PM
Darkling's Avatar
Darkling Darkling is offline
Whiskey Jack
User Statistics
Last Visit: May 10th, 2019
RPXP: 11442
Darkling Darkling Darkling Darkling Darkling Darkling Darkling Darkling Darkling Darkling Darkling
Posts: 4,370
Kria Voss
Appearance, Personality & Mechanics
right-aligned image
Kria Voss
The Guised Actress
"No, it's not that I can't kill, I simply don't wish to, for that brings...terrible things. I very much know how, but such things lead to darker thoughts and a downward wish is to ascend beyond the shackles of my bloodline, not be dragged into the depths by them."

Race: Rakshasa-SpawnTiefling Heritage: Tiefling Scum Sex: Female Class: Dawnflower DervishBard Age: 20 Alignment: Neutral Good

The young actress named Kria cuts a memorable figure, with bright green eyes that border on gold, and hair of copper hue that falls to her shoulders. With a slim and lithe form, she seems well suited to the role of a dancer, bearing the composure and countenance of one born for the stage. Her voice is pleasant to hear, well trained to project across halls as well as speaking softly yet firmly, and she almost always bears a smile. However, Kria has a number of features that would immediately distinguish her as one of tiefling blood, were it not for her meticulous efforts to mask them. Her cheeks and hands bear small sections of skin that are almost scaled in nature, giving it the look of a serpent's, something she goes to painstaking lengths to hide with gloves and carefully applied cosmetics.

A pair of small pointed horns protrude from the top of her forehead, more concerning evidence of her heritage, but years of practice have given her the forethought to style and curl her hair to cover them - she is also particularly fond of hats and hoods that still show her face for the sake of her performance. The most alarming of her bestial traits are her pair of thin vestigial wings, kept wrapped close to her body and concealed under flowing garments such as dresses and looser blouses, well out of sight of passers-by. The last troublesome feature, a tail reminiscent of a succubus, is kept coiled around the girl's leg leaving none the wiser. It is no wonder that the lass favours skirts and dresses, however, given the nature of her predicament. Her efforts at concealing her heritage, while varied, all come together to give her the look of a young woman of half elven descent - the treatment she receives is usually far better as a result.

When under heavier scrutiny, Kria relies on her magic to get where she needs to be, whether to sway the minds of those opposing her or to further reinforce her disguise. Rumours still circulate of her being one of tiefling blood, of course, especially given her overly sympathetic nature to the unfortunate souls she finds herself stumbling across. By most accounts, Kria is a pleasant and talkative girl, having both a broad vocabulary and a charming manner about her. Her acting prowess has given her a small following in some circles, and a few interested suitors, but she leads a somewhat private life and keeps most such folks at arms' length. The cost of her secret becoming more than a rumour would be devastating to her and her nascent career, so she remains tight-lipped and distant, if ever kind and likeable to those who seek her out.

A Troubled Childhood
  • Born to a talented actress with a career on the rise, Arabelle Voss, Kria's birth was an intense humiliation and disappointment.
  • Her birth caused Arabelle's husband to flee the city, leaving the actress alone with a scandal.
  • Arabelle despised her child, abused her intensely both physically and verbally on a daily basis, yet never chose to abandon her.
  • She chose to raise Kria as a half-elf, both to give the girl a chance at life, and to protect herself from the backlash of birthing a fiend. It only partly worked.
  • Kria's existence destroyed Arabelle's career, forcing her to take lesser and lesser roles, a slow and steady descent into irrelevance. Her viciousness towards Kria grew, including threats to mutilate her body to be 'less a monster'.
  • Kria desperately sought her mother's approval, yet grew more bitter and twisted daily by virtue of her mother's treatment.
A Devil and her Mother
  • At times Arabelle would show kindness and dote upon Kria, braiding her hair and speaking longingly of her time in the light, only seeming happy when speaking of the stage.
  • This triggered something in Kria, a desire to appease her mother, and she decided to become an actress to try and mend the rift between them.
  • Arabelle took this as both insult and blessing, and drilled Kria mercilessly on the arts of elocution, dramatic timing and poise. A harsh but effective teacher.
  • Kria took to the arts like a duck to water. Seeing her daughter's talent that would one day surpass even her own, Arabelle fell into an intense depression, and the rift widened.
  • While Kria did her best to continue her training, Arabelle did her best to destroy herself in body and mind, abusing narcotics daily as she slept with any who asked.
  • She sought one last moment in the light, and her final blaze of glory served just that purpose, if only in a scandal.
  • Arabelle died due to her abuse of narcotics, leaving Kria now an orphan, with a mountain of her mother's debt and an unabating hatred for what the woman had done to her.
  • Forced to sell the Voss Manor to pay off debt collectors, Kria was now alone, renting a small apartment. Her heart turned darker than it ever had.
A Vicious Breed
  • Kria discovered that her fiendish blood ran true enough to give her some gifts of magic, ones she would put to good use.
  • Hardened by her mother's treatment and her fear of being discovered, Kria became a predator, using her wiles and charm to take what she wanted from others.
  • Kria turned brother against brother just to prove she could, stole from others, and used her magic to assume identities to con and cheat her way across Westcrown.
  • Used her devious nature to secure roles for herself in theatre, both sabotaging others and charming lesser minds with seduction or magic, always careful to keep her true form hidden.
  • Began to rise much as her mother did, as a cruel and unscrupulous woman, with the veneer of a kind and gentle girl.
By the Light of Dusk
  • Kria found herself attacked by thugs while travelling home to her apartment, men with devious intentions after more than just coin.
  • In efforts to lift her skirt, they found her tail, and their minds turned from desire to violence.
  • Threatening her with a silver knife and a promise to 'snip her tail', they were interrupted by an older woman in armour who demanded they release her.
  • The woman was scoffed at, but when she fought with a gauntleted fist and a curved blade, the street toughs couldn't hope to challenge her. No lives were lost, to Kria's surprise.
  • The woman introduced herself as 'Kallana, Paladin of Sarenrae', and chided Kria for her carelessness, yet admitting relief that she was there to help.
  • Kria, confused by her non-lethality, asked Kallana why she didn't simply kill the thugs. Kallana introduced her to the mercy of Sarenrae, her doctrine, and her willingness to forgive all kinds.
  • Emboldened by this sermon, Kria found truth in Sarenrae's teachings, and felt it put her darkened mind at ease. Kallana offered to teach Kria in the ways of the Dawnflower.
  • Kria accepted, using the majority of what remained of Arabelle's fortune to purchase a fine scimitar, undertaking the teachings with a fervour that surprised even her.
New Kria, Old Troubles
  • Previously, Kria would avoid others of her kin, fearful of them revealing her secret. Now she sought them out, wishing to make their lives better.
  • Whether by words, coin or bread, she helped the more downtrodden members of tiefling society, in spite of their suspicions and the baleful glares of others. She pressed on regardless.
  • Her reputation in the 'human' community was damaged, but her soul felt lighter, so she continued her newfound duties in spite of the whispers and rumours.
  • Would speak out against others for bullying or belittling tieflings, earning her some enemies, and only a few friends.
  • Occasionally was forced to come to blows for her beliefs & charity, though never took a life, always able to hold herself back in spite of darker whispers in the corner of her mind.
  • Found herself unable to stand by while others suffered, but also found a certain joy in seeing the suffering of humans, though doing her best to fight these urges.
  • Blood would trigger something primal and cruel in her, a wish to draw more and end the lives of those who dared attack her in a flurry of vengeance, twisted vestiges of her past.
  • Kria fights this internal war every time it comes to violence or the pain of a human being, but with the aid of her goddess, she hopes she is able to overcome the devil inside herself.
  • Considers herself 'mostly reformed', but continues her life as a half-elven bardess, knowing she can do more for herself and the tiefling community from her guised self.
Other Details
Traits & Racial Alterations
A Silvered Tongue
"What'd I learn from my own kind? Spells, swordplay, and a disdain for the law and its keepers. From the humans? Alcoholism, how to pick a lock, and ways to use the common tongue to incite men into leaping upon my blade. It's been an exciting decade for me."
~Morrigan, the Witch of Blades

Last edited by Darkling; May 19th, 2014 at 12:36 PM.
Reply With Quote

Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off

All times are GMT -4. The time now is 04:15 PM.
Skin by Birched, making use of original art by paiute.(© 2009-2012)

RPG Crossing, Copyright ©2003 - 2023, RPG Crossing Inc; powered by vBulletin, Copyright ©2000 - 2023, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd. Template-Modifications by TMB