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Old Dec 14th, 2013, 02:55 AM
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Moridain Moridain is offline
Massively Multitasking
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Race: Elan
Class: Psion (Egoist) 10/Metamorph 10

Early life: Born to a family of poor human farmers, his deformed leg was quickly spotted. Not able, or willing, to feed a 'useless' mouth they gave him to a local monastery. Raised among them they discovered his talent for both Psionics and Martial abilities, though his crippled leg proved to be beyond the places means to repair. Always ashamed of his twisted leg, seeing it as far worse an injury than it truly was, he wished to be able to change himself. To become bigger, stronger. Better.

Then one day a person with flaming red hair and a wicked smile came to the monastery and-zzZZzzzzz

-End of Memories-

Optional but Influential: A twisted leg, such a small thing in modern days but where he was born on a harsh mountainside where farming is the only way of life and the unfit are treated as unworthy of life it was massive. Even after years of being raised and living with non-judgemental psionic monks it still defined his view of the world, making him in turn judge those around them.

Master Clo'then, a Psion of the temple, was of great influence in turning him from what could have been a horrific life of lonely coldness. The ethics and self-worth he helped instil in him did not get rid of his focus on the physical bodies around him, but his views became more sympathetic than judgemental.

Though nowhere near the martial fighters they were, at least not initially, the martial focus of the monastery lead his psionics down the physical and internal path it did.

Sitting in the bar the creature looked at their hands, blank and featureless and without distinguising features. They weren't a human, as they remembered being once upon a time. And to call themself a male would also be wrong, as an examation in a mirror earlier testified.

Looking around, they see the bar remains empty. They had arrived with some fanfare after all, naked and curious but not fearful. A man had approached them, he had attempted to push them around. They had been afraid for a time, but only until they felt themselves shifting into... something else. For a time he had been big and strong and male and powerful, and the man had been thrown through a nearby wall.

But then they shifted back into this... Always to this...

"I do not know who I am." they admit after a moment, thinking about that, about the ramifications. Something tells them they should be full of worry about this fact, to have a desire to regain their memories. But in truth...

They are happy.

Smiling they stand up, stretching the strong arms and legs suddenly under their control. They feel powerful! Nearly indestructable! And with this body, they can run!

Laughing now, the sound discordant as if from one who has never laughed before but is simply copying those of others, they run down the street.

"I CAN RUN!" they cry, smiling at those they pass. It is a warm, genuine smile but it still puts them on edge. They don't mind though, spreading their arms and warping themself into a massive bird with a head.

She cried out "I CAN FLY!"

She flies out of the town, the birds voice crying out her exaltation!

Note: I see him being fairly somber much of the time, but he is also very genuine. He will express his feelings and desires openly and with no shame.
"Live each day as if it were your last, 'cause I'm gonna kill you but I'm not super-good w/ schedules."
- Joss Whedon
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Old Dec 14th, 2013, 03:05 AM
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grenadierman grenadierman is offline
Tom Cruise
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Name: Bardi Kolsrud
Race: Human
Class: Ranger
Early Life: The sole of his right foot gave a painful itch, bleeding out a trail as he dragged and limped his frail self back home. He was lightheaded, a blow to the back of the head left it bleeding and he found it difficult to keep one of his eyes open. It hurt every time he tried. The thought of coming back to his adopted father's home slowly waded in to mind, and the boy stopped in his tracks his lips pursed. He hobbled instead to the treeline beside the trail, the wet grass cool beneath his feet and offering a small relief for the sharp debris nestled deep in his right foot. There, he found himself a tree, settled down against it and made himself comfortable, waiting for either the wolves, bandits, dire hunger, brisk cold of the night or his foster parents to find him.

There was no one on the trail when he sat down, but when he opened his eyes again there was one. A hunched over figure, hooded and using a walking stick for assistance she slowly made her way to him. Bardi felt no desire to move or stand up, in fact he was feeling quite warm where he was despite wearing tattered rags in the cold evening. He did not so much as raise his head to look at the hunched thing, even. "Boy." the elderly voice made Bardi assume the worst: a hag, come to take his soul. "My time draws near, and I have nothing to afflict upon the world. I've weathered many a winter and toyed with just as many witch hunters, but there isn't one that would remember me should I die. So, boy, would you like to parry Death itself?"

Personality: Because a rough childhood is the only thing he can remember currently, he has a rather quiet, almost brooding demeanor to him. The greatsword and longbow he carries seem to be the tools of his trade, and his ability to trek and survive outside of man's domain is exceptional. Though his memory is muddled, he almost instinctively puts great care into taking care of his wolf companion and seems to at least remember the wolf's name, Magda. The same name of the old crone who talked to him before what must've certainly been a final night for him.

Description: The man carries a strong stench of the outdoor wilds, and indeed his hands and feet are calloused from what appear to be years, or at least a whole decade of hard labour. Labour which, were it not for the young dragon's head and bounty paper he kept in his bag would not have been mistaken for anything other than that of a lumberjack or farmer. He has the build to match the former, at a little past 6 feet in height and with muscles that might crush a young man's head if he wrapped his arms around it. His black hair cut short, practical and his habit of close shaves keeps him free of facial hair. His most recognizable trait however are his eyes, rich in the same silver colour as that of his sword sets him apart from most people at a glance. Curiously, a gold wedding ring is seated snugly to his ring finger, with the initials JB stamped underneath it.

Purge as Corporal Pasam Molta
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Old Dec 14th, 2013, 04:20 AM
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Eviltedzies Eviltedzies is offline
Valor Morgahlis
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Eviltedzies Application
"To win, but not destroy; to conquer, but not humiliate: That is what true conquest is!"

Name: Karanos Sarakinov III
Race: Human
Age: 18 prior to memory loss
Homeland: The Kingdom of Iskanthar
Class: Warlord (Fighter otherwise)




Adventuring Major Motivations: Finding the remnants of his kingdom and conquering the known world!

Fitting Music: Coming soon…..
~ To be alive is not to live; living requires reaching beyond survival for something more. Reach for that something and find what dreams breath life into your existence. ~
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Old Dec 14th, 2013, 06:15 AM
JKTrickster JKTrickster is offline
Great Wyrm
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Last Visit: Apr 17th, 2022
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Jack Gallifrey

Hey! Hey, w-wait! Wait!
Here just....just give me one more moment!
Damn it! Damn it! Why can't I have just

- Words Jack will never forget.

Race: Human
Class: The Temporalist and Master of Time

Theme Song: Reluctant Heroes The cover is particularly important because it is much softer and less resolute than the original song. I can imagine Jack himself singing it

Appearance: Jack is rather tall, standing at just above 6'2'' but he's hardly an imposing figure. With a slim body and narrow arms, Jack looks more like a marathon runner than an actual warrior of any kind. While Jack is certainly toned and muscular, he body actually looks rather feminine. His thin waist and just slightly wide hips make his form look much softer than it actually is. It doesn't help when his skin is almost perfectly smooth and flawless, like he had never had to suffer through anything in his life. In effect, he looks more like a boyish model instead of a grown up adult.

Although Jack certainly isn't the most handsome fellow around, he is definitely easy on the eyes. His most stunning features are his eyes and his hair. His soft, long white hair is definitely strange for someone who otherwise looks so young. It's obviously not dyed or anything, but instead it actually looks like Jack lost all the color in his hair. On the flip side, his bright blue eyes look strained and tired. For someone who looks so young, his eyes simply look so...old.

He's really carefree and laid back and he doesn't really stand as straight as he could. He always talks excessively and he can't help but move his hands whenever he starts to get excited. His voice often goes up and down during conversation, and he can't help but get animated about even the smallest things. Unlike the picture, he isn't really someone who goes around posing or looking into the mirror. He only cares about being neat and he hates going without a shower or a bath. So while he might not smell like roses and dandelions, he doesn't smell bad either.

Early Life:


Personality: More than anything, Jack regrets turning away from his powers when he always had the chance to develop them. Even though he says he doesn't think about it anymore, he knows that he probably could have saved his father. After all if you can control Time, what can't you do? Jack is slowly developing a Messiah complex - he feel personally responsible for everything around him and he wants to "save everybody" and make sure everything is alright. He still doesn't have the wisdom to determine what he can and what he can't change so he always tries his hardest to control himself. He believes that if he can just train up, he can eventually becoming strong enough to never let anyone die ever again.

However Jack is still (mentally) young and he is overconfident to a fault. He just knows that he's meant to save the world. With all this newfound power, Jack actually believes he can do it all. So instead of using it with caution and care, and thinking things out, Jack believes that he's finally done it. He can save everyone now. He has the ability and the drive, so now he just has to make it out of here in one piece.

After that Jack has to make up for a lot of lost Time....but that isn't hard for him anymore.

Doesn't usually post on weekends~

Last edited by JKTrickster; Dec 17th, 2013 at 03:26 AM.
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Old Dec 14th, 2013, 06:22 AM
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sertaki sertaki is offline
Social Justice Commoner
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Name: Garad
Race: Human
Class: Soulknife (Gifted Blade, Deadly Fist) 17 / Dread 1 / Monk (Master of Many Styles) 2
Character Sheet
Theme Music


Hangman's Noose (Pathfinder)
The Haunting (Call of Cthulhu)

Last edited by sertaki; Dec 14th, 2013 at 11:51 PM.
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Old Dec 14th, 2013, 06:35 AM
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Hanz Hanz is offline
⛧Thaumaturge ⛧
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"When there's no more room in hell...
...The Dead shall walk the Other Hell."

Level 5Level 15 Half-Undead

Die Hard

Jean was a great warrior, a powerful cavalier at the head of his country's legion, and a revered leader in a vast army. During a massive battle, his cowardly commanders abandoned him, leaving him for death.

He fought the enemy with all his might, taking 32 other souls with him before he was finally subdued. He was taken as prisoner, his sword arm was cut off, and he was tortured for years, before he finally succumbed to death from his unhygenic prison cell.

When the slain Jean arrived to the underworld, Calistria, the goddess of Revenge, was enraged at how the brave hero was treated. She allowed Jean to return to the world as a Vengeful Spirit. A Ghostly black armored Cavalier with a Black mechanical Flintlock for an arm, riding upon a pitch-dark steed who walks upon the shadows, to come after the selfish commanders who had wronged him in his past life and achieve his revenge.

Vengeful Spirit

Dressed in full black, a long smelly trench coat, studded with powerful metal bolts and engraved in weird Eldrich lettering. He wears a Huge Black Hat, buckled in and firmly gripped onto his skull. People who see Jean never notice his grotesque skeletal figure, for his face is always hidden by a scarf, an eyepatch, and his big hat, hiding away what is left of his frail skinless body.

Even though he is entirely skeletal, Jean can do almost anything a normal human can, Including riding his favorite hose, Shadowrun. A Great Big Black Horse Maned with spice-red hair, his hooves covered in steel studs and his breath stinks of Death, Shadowrun has been Jean's companion ever since his arrival, being a gift from Calistria herself.
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Old Dec 14th, 2013, 03:50 PM
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aerondor aerondor is offline
Great Wyrm
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Name: Humility (ex Fisherson; ex Lakeman; ex Smithson)
Race: Human (Mostly Varisian, but gets her hair from Ulfen heritage)
Homeland: Ustav (county of Amaans) a small fishing village on the shore of Lake Kavapesta.
The Darkness within: When night comes and all the lights are out, Humility sees nobody and nothing. Just herself, all alone, with nobody to love, and nobody to love her.

(appearance) Humility stands tall for a Varisian. That together with her blonde hair tell tale of an Ulfen ancestor somewhere in her families past. Her face is beautiful, but there is a sadness about her eyes that speaks of loss that detracts from the rest, making the totality of her features somewhat less than the sum of the parts.
(dress and movement) She generally dresses simply in the garb of fisher folk and walks lightly with the swaying gait of someone who has spent a large part of their formative years on a boat.
(scent) Those close to her sometimes notice the smell of herbs about her. It may come from her hair, or perhaps from a little medicine bundle that she normally keeps close.
(voice) The voice of Humility matches her looks. It is calm and rarely raised - certainly not in anger, but again there is something a little too controlled about it, as if she is keeping a strict hold on her emotions.
Humility's life to date has been defined by her losses. Five times she has loved and lost, each time in a slightly different way.
Humility was born in Lakesedge (that was what the locals call it, however it's size is such that it is doubtful any cartographer through the small cluster of houses was worth putting on a map).


And now it appears she has awoken and found she has lost yet again - a whole chunk of her life - gone.


Last edited by aerondor; Dec 14th, 2013 at 03:54 PM.
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Old Dec 15th, 2013, 09:02 AM
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zarzak zarzak is offline
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Working on it.

Will get more info up and prettify it as the day progresses

Name: Sym
Race: Sorcerer (Arcane+Draconic Bloodlines (cross-blooded))
Class: Human

Sensory Description:
Sym is a handsome young man of an indeterminate age (16? 17? 18? It's hard to say). His skin is a smooth alabaster, his features sharply defined - almost as if he was carved from a block of marble. His eyes are a piercing purple, with unexpected depth to them. Oddly enough his hair is snowy white, with flecks of grey throughout. When he speaks his voice is a deep and resonant, with layers of warmth, inflection, and power. He has a clean scent about him, like that of a crisp winter morning. Striking violet tattoos spiral about his skin, forming intricate patterns in some places, sinuous lines in others.
Early Life:
For such a young looking man, Sym remembers surprisingly little of his childhood.
He remembers a house on a farm, pleasant smells, the sound of wheat rustling. More impressions, really, as if being viewed from a long distance.
He remembers a twin sister, an older brother, and playing pranks together. Minor magical pranks - turning each other's hair green, for instance. Of course, Sym was very proud of his black hair, so that annoyed him to no end (and on that note ... black hair? But his hair is white now ... what happened? Was it ever really black?). A happy childhood.
He remembers working on the farm as a teen, plowing fields, the smell of dirt.
He remembers trips to a nearby town, a pretty innkeeper's daughter.
He remembers his 18th name day, and the small merchant caravan that had arrived in town days before, needing to hire laborers. On oddly specific memory that (at least compared to most of his other memories).
And then ... he remembers nothing.
Sym is surprisingly calm for his apparent age, with a reserved and confident nature. When he speaks his voice carries authority and weight far beyond his years. His eyes are constantly active, rarely clouding over in contemplation. And when he focuses on a person or thing, his gaze is penetrating.
Despite his usually placid demeanor, it is easy to see that this is a young man who is fully immersed in his environment - always living in the moment, and always taking delight in living. He is quick to laugh, and quicker to smile. In every way he is the picture of a powerful, virile youth.

The Build:
I've built the character out, from level one to level 20. I know why his hair is now white instead of black. And I know where I'd like to go with the character. What I don't know (I'd like some mystery ) is the rest of his life.

Sym can't remember much of his life, must less any specific quotes. And having just woken up on some strange slab, he isn't exactly feeling normal. However, later, this is how I imagine his personality to be, once (if) normality has returned.
"Don't look so glum, friend. So you lost some money on that bet, it's not as if some love one had died. Haha! You can always make more! ... Oh. So you needed it for healing for your mother ... well ... the perhaps a lesson in betting away essential funds ... Whats that? Help you out? Well, I also lost money, friend, and my pockets are unfortunately light right now ...."
Incoming, if I can find an appropriate one. I have a specific image in mind.

Theme Song:
I'm terrible at these - if I listen to something that sounds 'right' today I'll post it.

Last edited by zarzak; Dec 15th, 2013 at 10:20 PM.
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