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Old 03-24-2012, 09:47 AM
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Great Wyrm
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Rift Diver Roll Call

Place yourself here! Copy over your application, as well as a link to your character sheet.

EDIT: My brain is fight. Awkward MRIs don't help. Expect delays.
A satyr rises in the morning, and hangs the coffee mug on his horns, so that he won't lose it.
The coffee is done, but the mug isn't in its usual spot. Where did it go? He forgot.

Last edited by Fragmaster01; 03-24-2012 at 09:50 AM.
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Old 03-24-2012, 10:15 AM
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Name: Abi Grujic
Race: Lampyr
Class: Alchemist (Ka-fzzt.)
Age: 21
Gender: Blue

Personality: Abi is a bit on the excitable side and talks very fast, especially about things that interest him. Unfortunately, what interests him the most are the properties (both real and assumed) of various chemicals. Abi is also fascinated by weather and will not hesitate to predict it at length (usually incorrectly). Even indoors, he'll frequently comment that whatever weather he thinks is happening outside is affecting things – "That dragon wants to eat me because it's too humid today; it has nothing to do with the fact that he's, you know, a dragon." Abi really is smart, just not always socially astute.

Appearance: Other lampyr will notice that Abi is a little splotchy, a side effect of using himself as a guinea pig. Most of the splotches are simply lighter black, but he has a big pink one on his lower right arm that, when asked, he will only attribute to something called "essence of slime." The shock of hair on his head is naturally messy, and Abi is prone to accidentally on purpose dying it fun colors. It is currently a pleasant shade of purple. His shirt is brownish (the better to hide stains with), and his vest, belt, and pants are covered with pockets, each likely containing something dangerous. Abi carries a light mace, dagger, and crossbow.

Background: Abi had a happy childhood. His parents were innkeepers, and Abi met all sorts of interesting people. One of them, unfortunately, was a little too interesting. A bearded old human taught him how to crush a certain type of mushroom, mix it with the odd-colored clay near the river, and make milk explode. Abi was instantly hooked, and he quickly figured out more tricks. A year later, Abi's parents were at their wits' end from all the random explosions and horrifying smells that usually permeated the inn as the result of Abi's experiments, and customers were scarcer and scarcer. The old man returned, and seeing what Abi had taught himself and the frazzled state of his parents, he offered to train the young lampyr to pursue his interests without being such a danger to others, and offer eagerly accepted by both Abi and his parents. In Abi, the old man (we'll call him Tyrus) found a kindred spirit. Tyrus taught Abi the secrets of real alchemy – how to brew fantastic potions, how to alter himself physically, and how to produce some really amazing explosions (the kind that blow up more than milk). Eventually, Tyrus pronounced his training complete and suggested he go adventuring to test his skills.

The Oath: I promise to not blow up any more kitties to stick around.
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Last edited by Ytterbium; 04-10-2012 at 04:42 PM.
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Old 03-24-2012, 04:19 PM
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Race: Human
Class: Cleric
Age: 29
Gender: Wears pink underclothes
Personality: Practical and world wise, Noridai nevertheless retains the optimism that her training in the Everflame cloister taught her. She dislikes people getting hurt, but has no issues doing the hurting if required. She has seen enough of the poor and malnourished to feel a general distrust of the powerful, and an equal weariness for the desperate poor. Recent events have left her slightly bitter, but she does her best not to let it carry over to new companions.
Appearance: Brown hair she leaves unbound when off duty or out of armor and in a tidy braid when it could be caught between plates. She has sun browned skin and wiry muscles from constant activity and little food.

Background: Born the daughter of a pair of humble farmers, she first noticed her gifts at age five when she dropped a knife and accidently cut a long gash down her fathers arm. Crying at what she had done, she touched it and felt the first touch of power. Flames wreathed her and him, setting fire to their small house. It took only a minute for the whole building to burn to the ground, and when it was done both she and her father stood unharmed in the middle, the gash completely gone.
Terrified both for and of their child they took her to the nearest temple of Sarenrae, believing when they approached that she were possessed or cursed. They were informed very quickly that it was far from the truth: No curse this, but a blessing. A born cleric of the Everflame. Her family were given enough gold to rebuild their farm, and enough again, and she was taken in as a member of the order.
After the inevitable couple of months of tears and homesickness she grew to love the cloister. The farm had been one of the furthest from the local town and the area around it too dangerous for her to meet with many her own age, so the constant barrage of people (all fifty of them, more people than she had believed existed at the time) was a wonder to her. She found she loved being around so many strange and interesting people, almost all of which were kind to her. She also wondered at so many around her own age. She learned her lessons quickly and well, swore her oaths at eighteen, and left the cloister to begin her good works.
Rather than take the many offers that came for a her to be a household physician to one of the noble houses, Noridai decided to take a position in the poor district a large city nearby. She had visited there during her studies and loathed the poor state of the clinics there. She grew the place up quickly, spending a decade on her work there. She ran it on donations alone at first, offering free healing to all, but when she realised how much the nobles were taking advantage of this service she started charging them exorbitant fees, channeling the money into the poor clinic. This tactic was not taken kindly, but by this point she didn't much care: those who wouldn't offer donations freely were unlikely to offer much under duress anyway.
She continued her thankless task for a decade, but all changed one winter when a runner came to her demanding her presence to see to a local nobles boy who fell off his horse. She came, but when she saw that he had barely sprained his foot she was frustrated, offering to send one of her churigons to brace it but not wanting to waste any of her limited divine power on such a minor wound when there were more serious in her hospital. Furious at the 'slight' the noble offered her an ultimatum: heal his wound, or he would crush the clinic. Too tired from a triple shift to think clearly she told him where he could put his ultimatum, sideways and covered in ginger.
It took him two months, and significant money, before his goal was completed. Two months to destroy all the good work she had put in over a decade. She called in every favor, all the good will of the poor and rich alike, but found she couldn't get enough assistance to save one tiny clinic. A pariah, and with only the armor on her back and a few gold pieces to her name, she left the city in disgust.
She went to Raeschlen, having heard that they were hiring adventurers to enter the rift. Her plans are simple: Go into the rifts, gain funds and practice her magics, strengthen her bond with her god again (her powers having faded significantly since the failing chapel, leaving her near a novice cleric again) and then use the new position and authority to buy a title in this new land and start her good works yet again.
The Oath: I do so swear.
(Though this oath does sound remarkably familiar... )
"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 03-26-2012, 12:54 PM
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Name: Dyran Zacti
Race: Landshark
Class: Fighter (Unbreakable)
Age: 25
Gender: Male

Personality: Dyran, because of the training he was subjected to, is incredibly hardy and determined to do anything he sets his mind too. It would take nothing short of an army of dragons to stop him from achieving whatever goals he sets, and even then he will fight on beyond a threshold where most normal people would collapse down unconscious. Outside of battles and goalsetting, Dyran is quite calm, talkative and comedic, willing to crack a few jokes here and there in order to keep his morale up. In desperate situations, however, he is ruthless with his words and is not afraid to anger or scare those who are in his way, usually by showing off his sharp white teeth.

Appearance: As another product of his training, Dyran has a very well toned upper body, but it is covered in scars of various kinds which were also caused by said training. His face is mostly unscarred, except for one small horizontal gash on the tip of his nose which was caused accidentally when he scratched his nose with a sharpened claw after a hard nights drinking. His amethyst hair is a short uncombed mop that poofs out in many directions, almost like a miniature unkempt afro. The whites of his large eyes are actually a deep yellow, and they hold a pair of beady black pupils within them. He stands at 5'10", and weighs 215lb, most of which is pure 100% muscle.

Background: Dyran was born into a nomadic community of landsharks who were driven by one purpose only: to keep themselves alive by eating, drinking, sleeping, procreating and whatever else it took. They never involved themselves in other affairs, and when they did it was only when they were desperate to satisfy their four needs. They were just as likely to save a town from a dragon as they were to help a legion of orcs take it over, just as long as they could keep on living. Dyran grew up with this mentality hammered into his skull by his father, Nilas, who was considered by many the leader of the tribe and in charge of keeping everybody as neutral as possible. During his childhood, Dyran learnt to stop caring about others and to work for what he needed, no matter what other people thought.

However, alongside this, Nilas trained Dyran extremely heavily in the arts of fighting for every moment of the day as soon as he turned 13. Small boulders were lifted, vast lengths were ran and swam and it was common to see Nilas attacking his son off guard in many casual situations in order to keep him on his toes at all time. Dyran got used to feeling constantly exhausted every moment of the day, and became paranoid around his father because of it. The other members of the community saw his condition and tried to help him, keeping his tent guarded at night so that his father did not mortally wound him while he was resting. Nilas said that he was doing this in order to make sure his son was prepared for every situation, and punished anyone who got in his way on the count that they were taking sides.

This seemingly endless circle of brutal training, protection and punishment didn't end until 10 years after the training regime started. Nilas was eventually killed by accident when he lunged at Dyran during a meal. Instinctively, Dyran grabbed his steak knife and tried to sink the blade into his dads shoulder, but his father tripped over and the blade landed directly into his heart. This incident filled Dyrans heart with regret, guilt and a slight tinge of relief knowing that the main source of his paranoia was now gone. Despite the members of the community urging that he stay and look after them in this time of sorrow, he swiftly left with whatever supplies he could carry and headed off to the nearest town, becoming a wanderer in an attempt to leave his past behind.

2 years later, he found the town of Raeshlen with a now cleansed yet still neutral mind, and thus began his life as an Explorer...

The Oath: Of course.

Last edited by GeoRaga; 04-11-2012 at 05:12 PM.
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Old 03-27-2012, 05:26 PM
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Name: 'Crazy ole Betty'

Race: Human

Classes: Witch 2 (beast-bonded)

Patron: Animals

Age: It's not polite to ask a woman her twenty-twoage.

Gender: Female

Personality: She is said to be half mad but she thinks of herself as more than half sane. In truth Betty is just a bit odd, you could even say eccentric. Betty is really just a hard person to read, she has moments when she may seem mad but there is usually some method to her madness. Betty is normally somewhat reclusive but after she warms up to someone she drops her guard a bit so to speak. She likes to smile and laugh as much as the next person but she rarely gets to speak with people. Most of her conversations are with animals or her little friend Jester.

Appearance: She has long dark hair that flows all the way down to her waist. Her eyes are a deep blue and she has an aesthetically pleasing face. Betty stands at an average height of five feet four inches and she weighs just a little over one-hundred pounds. Her clothes are usually constructed from animal skins and she generally makes them herself. She is usually accompanied by her familiar, a rather fat black raven named Jester that rarely shuts his beak.

Background: Betty has always lived on the outskirts of this little 'podunk' of a town. She was raised by her mother Molly, her father was an adventurer that ran off before she was ever born. He was afraid of Molly and her mental state. Molly was completely insane when dealing with strangers but she was somehow a semi-lucid mother. Molly was killed by a wild bear attack while out gathering herbs for one of her favorite brews. Betty was fifteen and since then she has learned to fend for herself.

She had done well for herself over the last few years until these blasted rifts started to appear. This most recent one is positioned to where anyone that comes from the small town to investigate the rift must cross her favorite herb and flower garden. This will just not do!! Betty would like nothing more than to find a way to close this particular rift once and for all. As for any other rift she has no concern for them. They don't interfere with her herb tea or destroy her favorite flowering bushes.

The Oath: Absolutely, affirmative, ten-four!

Status: Catching up now!
#oneracehuman #onlylovedefeatshate

Last edited by ricktur63; 04-11-2012 at 09:01 AM.
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Old 03-28-2012, 09:50 PM
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I am having difficulty with internet for this site ATM, but I can post a nearly-complete character sheet.
Name: Ka'Rim
Race: Synth
Class: Magus 2 (Shield Bearer)
Age: Young Adult (About 16 years)
Gender: Female
Personality: Strictly Business while on the job, and somewhat confused while back at camp. Is trying to figure out where she came from/belongs, and what she wants. Is careful not to let her confusing impact her work, because rift delving is the only way she knows to discover her homeland.
Appearance: Female in appearance but clearly artificial. Covered with tight rubber, but not really that physically attractive.Wears a simple dress, light armor, and a masterwork wooden shield, plus a pack of basic supplies. Seldom wields a weapon other than shield bash, and the shield is not spiked or otherwise enhanced, except by being of non-magical masterwork quality.
Background: Oh, My head...what happened? I know my name and job, but not my past-how is that? I am Ka'Rim, and I 'live' and 'work' in the laboratory of the interdimensional research facility. Hmm...I appear to be artificial-perhaps I HAVE no past? How did I get here, anyway-there must have been some sort of equipment malfunction! I vaguely remember a rift in space, and something reached out and grabed me, and then I would up here. Perhaps if I delve into some of these rifts, I will find my way home...or do I WANT to go home? Do I WANT anything?
<After a short time....>
Well, I managed to learn the languages of the various races which inhabit this camp, and acquire some supplies. Now, I should probably search these rifts.

Last edited by Ericg1s; 03-28-2012 at 10:10 PM.
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Old 09-10-2012, 02:29 PM
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Name: Zoa Greytale
Race: Landshark
Class: Monk
Age: 20
Gender: Female

Personality: Zoa may or may not be a terrible person. She doesn't care about much beyond what immediately affects her. This is in large part due to her being a moron even by landshark standards.
She likes chilling out, getting new stuff, danger, swimming, fighting and landshark guys. Most other things bore her quickly.
While she doesn't have a malicious bone in her body, she doesn't have any merciful ones either. She's fond of killing people (and most other things), but she'll only ever do it in a fight. If there's no contest, there's no victory and to her that defeats the point.
She's well aware of how dumb she is, but she's happy that way. Smart people always seem to be worried about something. If she decides a person is smarter than average she'll cheerfully abdicate all responsibility and leave the decision making in their hands, but that doesn't stop her suggesting stupid things or acting without thinking.

Appearance: Zoa is a greyish-tan with spots like a leopard shark. Her eyes are dark as they come and her teeth are as bright. Her sea grey hair is styled as a mohawky thing, which imitates the shape of her fin.
She trains too much to be especially curvy, but she's not bulky either; in spite of her lack of formal instruction, she's built every inch like a martial artist.
She prefers to wear baggy pants with huge knee-holes worn into them, thick bandages on her hands, feet and chest and as little else as circumstances allow. She always travels as light as landsharkly possible.
Other landsharks seem to think she looks hot, which is a double-edged sword if ever there was one. The other races (that's you) seem to think she looks like a newt with a bear trap shoved in its mouth. Swings and roundabouts, eh?

Background: She grew up in a bandit camp, hidden away in the woods. She failed measurably at long words, weapon training, languages and plenty of other things, but she was never deterred by these set-backs. They didn't seem important things to learn.
People in the camp were generally nice to her, if faintly patronising. It was clear that she was born dumb even by landshark standards and that she couldn't really be blamed for it. When it was discovered she excelled at combat with teeth and claws, she was encouraged to practice and allowed to attack travellers with the rest of the gang.
Since then she's become a bouncer, a gang soldier, a wandering mugger, a street fighter and a bum, in no particular order. Now she's decided to try being a treasure hunter, because that easy stuff got boring.
Ingle Land?

Last edited by Caput; 09-10-2012 at 02:30 PM.
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