[Characters] Heroes of the Realm

[rngrbob]

This is to post your character sheets. Like this down below.

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Class/level:
Race/Homeland:
Deity:
Alignment:
Appearance:
Background:

[holyblade]

Character Name: Alec Vorwin http://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=26212
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Class: Ranger
Race/Homeland: Werewolf Human
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: Muddy brown hair, tanned skin, wearing a weathered brown duster over his leather armor and dark green tunic. Has gray wool pants and leather boots. On his back are two short swords, both of which have blood-stained sheaths. His eyes are a dark brown, almost black color that seem to shine in the moonlight. He has a scar on his shoulder where his "gift" was received, and he does his best to hide it underneath his attire.

Background:

 

Alec was a young man who hunted with his father out in the woods to secure food for his family, learning from Mother Nature how to live off of the land and find his way home even in the most horrible weather. He admired his father and tried his hardest to have the same marksmanship his father possessed. Yet Alec had not the desire to fell an animal so far away. It seemed perfectly unfair to him, and he decided that he would engage with the beasts up close, in hopes to prove his worth to his father.

Alec's father, however, did not demand anything of his son other than what was necessary for their family's survival in the outskirts of the village. He taught his son the dangers of their land and how to fight against it, though his own knowledge was somewhat limited. But, for years it was enough, the two of them becoming an expert team that could draw a creature's attention while the other lined up a shot or sneaked up from behind to finish their prey off. For years this was enough, and everyone was happy.

Happiness was fleeting. Once when Alec was fourteen years old, he had found himself separated from his father during the hunt. This was not unusual so Alec simply continued on, figuring he'd run into his father later that day or the next. It was raining and visibility was poor, so Alec didn't notice the lurking shadow that had been following him for hours. He finally saw his father, who smiled when he saw his son return out of a nearby woods. As he moved to meet his father, the beast launched its attack. Caught unaware, Alec was knocked to the ground face-first and he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder. He cried out, asking his father to save him.

Not to leave his son a victim to the dark beast, he fired off a multitude of arrows at the monster, striking its chest and foreleg. Howling, the beast tore itself from Alec and charged his father. Then, Alec passed out.

He awoke in the meadow, the wet dewy red grass scratching his face. Staggering to his feet, Alec blinked his eyes several times, not believing his own eyes. In his attempt to save his son, Alec's father had shot at the beast, invoking an attack upon himself. This selfless act spared Alec, but the price was steep. His father had been eaten alive and was still conscious when he son knelled next to him, tears streaming down his face. "Father," Alec cried, "what monster did this to you?"
"Leave it alone, Alec," was his father's ragged reply. "I would have finished it, but its wounds healed almost as fast as I inflicted them. You have to go back to your mother and tell her to leave the house. Get your sister too,"
"But what about you, dad?" Alec sobbed. "You tell mom and Cassidy about the monster."
His father smiled faintly at Alec. "I wish I could...they need you Alec. Don't let them down."

Alec carried his father back to the house, and told the terrible story to his heartbroken mother and his younger sister. They left for a safer village, living with his uncle on his mother's side in his house in Cadrron's Port. Here he has done odd jobs for meager amounts of cash for his family. But now, three years later, Alec has had enough of petty work and wants to stop the horrible monster that took away his father and left him with a hated affliction he has trouble controlling. He thus turns to The Dragon's Eye tavern, hoping to find an employer that can give him gold for his family and an adventure for his personal revenge.

OOC: Yeah for copying and pasting!!!

[Ryuken]

Name: Amalia Galen
Age: 17
Gender: female
Class: Sorceress (air elemental bloodline)
Race/Homeland: human from the coventry-varantha border region
Deity: Shelyn
Alignment: chaotic good

 

Appearance: Amalia is a charmingly beautiful, slim and fair young woman. She has blonde, almost white hair, long enough to reach her hip but somehow always moving as if a gentle breeze were playing with it. Her blues eyes sparkle with curiosity and excitement revealing a bit of her personality as well of her heritage.
As most magic-wielding characters she doesn't wear any armor. Coming from a small farmers village, where everybody wore mostly simple brown and sturdy clothes, she got herself flashy, bright blue and orange, tight-fitting, high slitted robe, which reveals maybe even too much of her bosom.

 

Amalia is a friendly and easy going person - most of the time. She is curios and adventurous. Although she likes helping people and -generally- doing 'the right thing', she doesn't care much for rules, traditions and social conventions. Any rule should only be adhered to as long as it serves to do good - and since that could change rather quickly she hardly sees any benefit in formalizing rules into laws. She wants to be as free as the wind, uncatchable and unruleable as the air itself. Which is most of the reason why she started adventuring in the first place. the other reason being that she can be somewhat emotional, having poor self-control and reacting without much thought of the consequenses if someone ridicules her.
She loves having a good time and ever since she started traveling she enjoyed staying at various inns, listening to music and tales of bards.
Alhough she has been warned of Vampires and Werewolves by her parents, grandfather and other villagers, she is not someone who likes jugding people by prejudices alone. Thus she is vigilant about those -and other- supposedly evil creatures, but she acknowlegdes the possibility that they are not always pure evil.

 

Iphraim Galen, Amalias grandfather was a great adventurer, traveling not only the world but even other planes. It was the small village where Amalia was born, where he returned from his journeys to rest and see his bride. He never cared much for the details -or the truth for that matter- when telling the tales about his travels. Thus, no one knows for sure what kind of magic he was exposed to, but when he returned one time from a long long expedition into another realm, he had changed somehow. It was then that he stayed longer than he normally did and started a family. Neither his sons nor his daughter showed any kind of strange talents nor shared his will to explore the world beyond the towns outskirts.
But when his granddaughter Amalia was born to his daughter, it wasn't long until one could see that she was different. Static electricity always seemed to be around her and even at young age she never seemed to fit into the quiet and simple village life.
Being teased by other children for being different somehow, never able to fit in, really, and never abiding to the rules of the grown-ups, Amalias childhood was not easy. She often spend her days with her grandfather, listening to the fascinating tales of the outside world, and even other worlds, dreaming about the day, when she was finally old enough to begin her own voyage.
When she was 16 her parents could no longer stop her. She felt ready for the world and was more than fed up with the boring village-life. She had mastered some of the magic flowing so obviously throgh her veins -although Iphraim never got into much detail, why that might be, for neither he nor any other other family member showed any signs of magic abilities. She still hadn't much discipline or control over her magic -or herself- but she figrured trying to control her powers was more or less the same as putting them in chains and thus restricting her magic energy to ever bloom to their fullest.

This is what my character sheet looks like so far: www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=26289

[nyttyn]

Character App
Name: Decarde LeBlanc
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Class: Paladin of Vengeance
Race/Homeland: Vampire Human
Deity: Pelor
Alignment: Lawful Good
Appearance: A tall, gaunt, pale, yet somehow stunning man.
Background: "The light does not turn its back on its champions."
Decarde Blanc was a up and coming exemplar of the light. The pride of his home town, he tapped into the light at the tender age of 12. Always courageous and head-strong he managed to convince the church of Pelor to take him on a inquisition at only 14. It was a routine assignment; the purging of a nest of accolyte vampires. Or so they thought.

What awaited them haunts Decarde to this day. All that was in the den of evil was a single vampire, his face gaunt with the wear and tear of the ages. He hissed out under his breath, saying "Foooools....You dare attack my kin!?" He raised his hand once, and a ray of dark energy burst from his fingertips, striking down the senior paladin with all the effort of snapping a kitten's neck. With a cry of vengance, Decarde charged in, sword raised aloft. Laughing, the vampire smacked him once, sending him flying across the room.

Decarde struggled to remain consciousness, eyes opening and closing as he was forced to watch on as his kin were easily slaughtered, no more then play-things for the might of the nosferatu. At last, the vampire stalked over, leaning down and grinning "Aaaah....still alive, are we scum of light? I shall show you why your kin are a stain upon this world, then." He grabbed Decarde's neck and started to choke him, his fingers digging deep into the young paladin's neck as he was raised upwards. Dark forces echoed through the air, a ritual as old as time itself transforming Decarde, corrupting him...

After a painful hour, he was dropped back on the floor. The last thing he saw for five years was his captor chuckling, a maniacal laughter that should have been reserved for stories to scare children into sleep. Five years later, he finally awoke, pulled out of the crumbling ruins by a few treasure-hunters. The first thing he did was raise his arm, and attempt to call upon the light. It seared, but it came to him, flowing through his veins a purifying light. But even that was not enough. Although enough to keep the hunger at bay, his corruption is so strong, that almost nothing exists that could overcome it.

Today, he fights on. He fights for his fallen brethren, using his curse to his advantage. Woe be to the unlucky monster who incites his wrath.

[OodSigma]

Name: Letus
Age: 73
Gender: Male
Class: Oracle (Time-Cloudy Vision)
Race/Homeland: Gnome/Dark Lands
Deity: Pharasma (Though he regards Time itself as true divinity)
Alignment: True Neutral
Appearance:

 

Letus is of average gnome height and weight. He is, in a word, beautiful. He has silver hair that he keeps short enough to keep it uncombed but long enough to look good and a gloriously shaped long goatee(about 2in). His irises are pure white and his pupils have a hint of gray both hinting towards his blindness; if you stare at them long enough a glimpse of Time can be seen. He used to squint a lot and wear various glasses and goggles to try improve his vision but has recently given up on these ultimately futile habits. He wears standard adventurer gear because he has been out on adventures for years. He keeps the hood of his cloak up because his eyes put people off. That said, the apparent loss of the iris draws people to him when he makes eye contact. It makes him seem more honest and easy to read.

Background:

 

Letus was born somewhere in the borderlands of the human world 73 years ago the son of an exiled Alchemist and gnome commoner. Growing up so near to the Dark Lands he has always lived in a world of violence. The constant fear of vampires, human prejudice and poverty originating from his fathers exile ensured that Letus grew up to be hardy and bitter. When he reached adulthood he ventured off to make a living as a common clerk (not Cleric) in Cadrron's Port. While his goods were of questionable legitimacy he made a decent living with his "pawn" shop. Decent enough to pay the taxes and at least here no one bothered him. About five years ago he received a rather odd mechanical pocket time piece from one of his usual suppliers. It was said to have been invented by the long dead but most highly revered gnome tinkerer Anteles. While Letus disbelieved this, and it is still under question, and while it wouldn't even open he was able to get a great price and got it anyway. He put it on display in his store and it laid there for 4 years. It was as if no one who came in could even see it. Every day Letus would stare at it for hours, pondering the watch. One day his curiosity got the best of him and he moved to force the watch open. As he forced the watch open he witnessed the entirety of Time. The image was to much for him to handle and he went partially blind. He closed the watch quickly but it had already left it's mark. From that point on Time would speak to him. No longer able to run the store with a profit (watching the customers hands was very important in a store that deals with mostly thieves and Rouges) he closed the shop and a little insane from the voices running around through his head he left Cadrron's Port as a rouge (not Rouge) on the run from his past. He didn't make it. Life outside of town was too difficult with the endless void of eternity as his only companion. And as such he has returned to Cadrron's Port a bit worse for wear. He still carries the watch. It serves little purpose (While he can open it now, it doesn't tick) other than as a reminder that his powers are not his own and he serves a greater purpose.

I think the character sheet is good save the equipment and gold.

[Goribor]

Character Sheet Name: Norlamin Carter Age: 23 Gender: Male Class: Cleric Race/Homeland: Human Werewolf/Perren Deity: The Goddess Alignment: Neutral Good Appearance: Norlamin tries to keep a low profile. Though, like all who share his affliction, he has uncontrollable hair, a unibrow, and a longer index finger, he tries to keep these features from showing. He regularly cuts his hair, shaves between his eye brows each morning, and wears gloves that artificially increase the length of his other fingers. However he can never keep these features hidden for long on a quest. He is small in stature, standing at just 5' 2" tall and weighing 120 lbs. He had dark brown hair and grey eyes. Background: Norlamin was born in Perren. His father was a Cleric who taught him the ways of the Goddess, specializing in the domains of healing and protection. When he was 16, his father decided to move to the land of Varantha. On the journey they were attacked by a pack of werewolves. His father was killed in the attack, and his mother was fatally wounded. Only Norlamin survived, though not unscathed. He had been bitten. He never knew what drove the wolves away, but always attributed it to the Goddess saving him. He resists the blood-lusting urges that try to control him, instead following in his father's footsteps. To prevent murdering during a full moon, he has an enchanted cage he gets into that is magically locked until sunrise.