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Mephis Inferni Vice Captain
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 Posted: Wed Jun 08, 2016 9:09 pm
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Wilhelm Arctavius
The Blightshield
[PERSONAL INFORMATION]
Full Name:
Wilhelm Arctavius
Nickname or Code Name:
The Blightshield
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Age:
Twenty-Nine(29)
Birth Date:
July 18th
Affiliation:
Fashrade
Goal:
To protect the lands of Fashrade.
Morality:
Hero
Homeland:
Fashrade
Current Residence:
Maeven
Title:
General of the Royal Army
Personality/Mannerism:
As a fresh knight, Wilhelm was always bursting with personality. And by personality, he would never shut up. After his near-death experience against some bandits located near the border, he became much more reserved in manner. He gained focus after this, learning his weapons and body to masterful levels. During his recovery, he spent much of his time with the wizards in Maeven learning to harness his inner potentials.
With his troops, he is strict yet kind. He pushes them to their limits, praises their triumphs, and punishes mistakes appropriately. His loyalty to the troops is matched only by his loyalty to the King and Queen of Fashrade. He can be often found studying in his downtime with a pint of ale, or training new recruits in the courtyard. The latter he does out of pride, wanting the best and brightest to reach points they only dream of.
Wilhelm loves conversation, but hates small talk about trivial matters. He contemplates the world, love, morality, and various other topics few of the knights can grasp. He encourages intelligence and communication between all ranks, willing to listen to even the lowest ranking members views on strategy and worries about an upcoming battle.
Appearance:
His body, beneath his armor is also riddled with several scars from battle. A particularly nasty, jagged scar runs the length of his shoulder diagonally down to his hip after being nearly slain at his first battle.
Height:
6'1''
Weight:
217lbs
Personal Skill:
Beyond being an expert combatant in swordplay and hand to hand fighting, Wilhelm is also well practiced in wood carving. His workmanship can be compared to some of the finest carvers in Fashrade, however due to limited time and space constraints, he only parts with his works under special circumstances.
Favorite Food & Drink:
Wilhelm is quite fond of ale and mead of any variety, and adores fresh fish.
Least Favorite Food & Drink:
Fine wines make his head hurt, as he tends to drink way too much. He's also not too fond of carrots, picking them out of stews.
Likes:
- Reading whatever he can get his hands on.
- Mounted combat
- Arena fights
- Friendly duels
- Woodcarving
Dislikes:
- Foolish plans
- Posturing
- Slackers
- Noevens
- People staring at his scars.
[COMBAT INFORMATION]
Special Tactic/Skills:
Rough and dirty, Wilhelm will use any combat maneuver necessary to win a fight for his life. When his normal fighting abilities begin to fail, he will shed his armor piece by piece to prolong his stamina and strength, as well as increase his speed.
Battle Strength:
Wilhelm earned his nickname because he was able to take a beating and give one in kind. Strong and durable despite his relatively average size, he's survived many battles that should have been his last.
Battle Weakness:
Despite his capability in combat and his ability to lead, he is prone to tunnel vision in the heat of battle. He relies heavily on lower command to keep the men reigned in as he wades through combat. As such, sneak attacks and ambushes really ruin his day if fighting alone.
[ABILITY INFORMATION]
Special Abilities:
Due to his studies with the wizards of Fashrade, he was able to tap into a bit of mystical energy that is inside of all beings of Istrea. He uses his sword as a focus and can fire a blast of raw light based energy as a projectile slash once per week. Though incredibly destructive, he weakens him considerably due to his inexperience harnessing these energies.
The slash itself can cleave through stone walls of nearly a foot in thickness, easily carve through many foes, but has a range of about thirty feet before fizzling out. When using this ability, he raises his sword above his head and glowing energy begins to emanate from his blade. The width of the attack depends on the arc of his blade, firing when the tip stops moving. As such, a 360 degree attack is possible but drains Wilhelm even more. After using it in such a manner, Wilhelm is likely to black out.
While an impressive technique, dodging it isn't that difficult as it moves somewhat slowly. Depending on the arc, one could either duck below it or dodge to the sides with ease if paying close attention.
[EQUIPMENT INFORMATION]
Clothing:
When relaxing, he can be found wearing black slacks and a sleeveless tunic without grandeur. His hand and a half sword never leaves his waist unless he's resting.
Battle Attire:
Full plate-mail, stained dark grey with gold accents. A white and gold cape adorns his back with the Royal Crest blazing upon its center.
Cherished Items:
Woodcarving knives and chisels of varying sizes, kept in a pouch at his waist.
Special Weapons:
Weapon Name:
Rusty
Weapon Background:
The first sword Wilhelm ever picked as a recruit, Rusty used to be much larger than himself. Nicknamed Rusty due to the terrible state in which he found it in the armory, he polished and grinded a fresh edge on the blade himself.
After gaining the status of general, he had one of the royal blacksmiths adorn the handle, cross guard, and pommel to represent his new role.
Equipment:
N/A
[HISTORY]
Family Member(s):
A mother and father, as well as several siblings.
Friends:
Any who are loyal to Fashrade and the royal family can count themselves as friends of Wilhelm.
Enemies:
N/A
Romantic relationships:
N/A
Religious philosophy:
Undecided, as many religions tend to have the same ideals.
Political/social philosophy:
Service until death.
Background:
Wilhelm was nothing more than a farmer's son, until drafted into the King's Army at the ripe age of 10. He was trained daily to learn the art of warfare and strategy, how to pick apart an army or a single man with wit and blade.
He was always eager to prove himself, yet was usually more bark than bite when compared to the other recruits around his age. This persisted until the age of sixteen, when his unit was dispatched to a small village on the outskirts of Fashrade near the borders of Goleta. Discovering no survivors and no clues as to why it was attacked, the unit prepared to head back to the capital to report their findings. That's when he heard a sound that had been described to him from the older soldiers in the army, a Noeven war horn. Seemingly at once, dozens of demons poured out of the trees and began striking down the unprepared soldiers. Originally a unit of a hundred soldiers, only seven remained alive.
Wilhelm was dying, he knew this. The members of his unit still able to stand cleaned his wound and bound it, riding hard towards the capital with him falling in and out of consciousness.
The healers worked on him and were, to their astonishment, able to get him back on his feet after a few weeks of bed rest. Due to the nature of his injury, however, he was unable to continue to training for nearly a year to allow his back the time to regain its strength. He used this time to learn how to read, studying with the wizards at the behest of his commanding officers.
He learned much more quickly than the wizards had anticipated, gaining several allies at the tower that wanted to see if he could tap into the latent magical abilities in all Istreans. Months went by as he trained his mind and spirit, allowing his body the time it needed. He learned to harness small amounts of his energies, directing them to more destructive means rather than other less barbaric methods. While this discouraged some of the more senior wizards, others approved and knew that his abilities would be more useful in the army than learning simple healing. Healing arts and other such methods of magical use required several years of study, more time than Wilhelm had with the wizards.
Once cleared to continue his training, he redoubled his efforts on training his body. He began training the fresh recruits, using it as an excuse to better hone his now lazy body without being a laughing stock from the other soldiers.
Time passed, years seemed like weeks to Wilhelm as he saw more combat. Each left a scar upon his body and a lesson upon his mind, as he rose the ranks from simple soldier to General of the Royal Army.
Theme Song:
Indestructible - Disturbed
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Mephis Inferni Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Jul 01, 2016 4:22 am
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Althaia the Fallen
The Twisted
[PERSONAL INFORMATION]
Full Name: Althaia
Nickname or Code Name: The Twisted Doctor
Race: Human, Healer
Gender: Female
Age: 93, yet appears to only be in her early 20's.
Birth Date: 09/15
Affiliation:
Herself and no other.
Goal:
To destabilize the nations of Istrea.
Morality:
Villain
Homeland:
Elerandra
Current Residence:
In a small hut near the Temple of Fate, located in the Wild Lands.
Title:
None
Personality/Mannerism:
Althaia is an enigma, some would even call her chaos personified. She seems act with no regard toward the outcome of her actions, yet everything is calculated. Some know her as a kind soul, others a terrifying entity akin to the Dreaded Witch Kamawanaiyo.
Methodical, chaotic, kind, vibrant...all of these words can describe Althaia, yet pinning her personality down has yet to be accomplished. One thing that all can agree upon, however, is that when she speaks, there is power behind her words.
Appearance:
Height:
5'4''
Weight:
117lbs
Personal Skill:
An accomplished healer that delved so deeply into the healing arts that she is able to reverse the effects of healing into the ability to cause pain and injury with her magics.
Favorite Food & Drink:
Rabbit stew and fresh stream water
Least Favorite Food & Drink:
Bread and alcohol of any type.
Likes:
- The look of fear in the eyes of a helpless victim.
- The look of gratitude in the eyes of one she helps.
- Organization
- Disembowelment
- Sunflowers
Dislikes:
- Those who blindly follow the ways of life.
- Loyal dogs of their false kingdoms.
- Tea
- Being tricked
- Generally everyone
[COMBAT INFORMATION]
Special Tactic/Skills:
Althaia doesn't especially having any extraordinary combat abilities, other than if she gets her hand on an opponent, she can unleash her harmful magic in bursts of pain through contact.
Battle Strength:
She is able to talk herself out of most combat situations, even to the point of surrendering if the need arises. However, in a situation where that is not possible, she relies on her dexterity to avoid lethal contact.
In addition, she is very nearly immune to most forms of pain. Her magics require her to feel the pain she inflicts and heals, rendering her a form of immunity to all but the most dreadful forms of torture.
Battle Weakness:
She is weaker than the average human, valuing other abilities over raw physical power.
[ABILITY INFORMATION]
Special Abilities:
An accomplished healer, Althaia is able to stitch closed open wounds, depending on severity, in little time. To do this, she augments her healing magics with her own life force to accomplish drastic healing. As such, healing a gravely wounded individual could drain years off her lifespan.
Having delved so deeply into healing, she discovered another way to harness her gift. By using the life energies of those she touches, she can use it to directly harm them in much the opposite as when she heals them. Not only does she cause wounds, but she also drains their life force to augment her own.
For her, life must come with balance. If she heals, she must also hurt another to sustain her existence. She may also use this stolen essence to augment her own lifespan accordingly, drastically increasing her own lifespan. Though naught but an average human of Istrea, those who know of her believe her to be perhaps a celestial being, or an infernal agent.
To use these abilities, Althaia must also feel the pain of the individual she contacts for healing or harm. While most would view this as such a drawback to never use the power, Althaia relishes in it. The pain has become more of a pleasure than bane, though she can still incapacitate herself if she tries too much at one time.
Wounds are additive, the more fatal the injury inflicted or healed, the more exhausted she will become. Her current limit is four lives in the stretch of two hours before she passes out. To clarify, she can heal fatal wounds of four individuals or inflict fatal wounds to four before losing consciousness. However, certain vitals require more or less energy, depending on the action taking. Healing a puncture heart would require immense energy, as the subject is on the brink of death. However, injuring the heart would be far less difficult than, for example, bisecting an individual.*
*Note: Healing magic is rather well explained. Her harming magic replicates physical wounds upon an opponent, location and lethality determine energy expenditure. To regain her energy and life force, she can drain it from a victim. Prolonged contact via this drain causes the victim to rapidly age. From young adult to venerable, the process takes nearly an hour of direct contact. For the sake of simplicity, one minute of direct contact is equal to one year drained.
[EQUIPMENT INFORMATION]
Clothing:
Simple brown robes with a black waist sash.
Battle Attire:
A simple, curved dagger at her waist is the only change.
Cherished Items:
Nothing, really.
Special Weapons:
Weapon Name:
Dagger
Weapon Background:
Just a curved dagger of no renown, taken from the body of her first victim.
Equipment:
[HISTORY]
Family Member(s): None, as she has no children and her parents are long dead.
Friends: A few, here and there.
Enemies: None left alive, that she knows of that is.
Romantic relationships:
Religious philosophy:
While she knows that there is an afterlife, she doesn't much care to dwell on it.
Political/social philosophy:
Anarchist
Background:
Althaia grew up poor in one of the ghettos of Adyniel, the youngest of three children to a stone mason father and seamstress mother. Her brother and sister worked as farm extras while she was too young to work herself, helping the family to get by as best they could.
Things changed one day as her father returned home one day with his hand covered in blood stained bandages, having managed to drop a rather heavy brick upon it. The bones were shattered and as a result, he wouldn't be able to continue as a stone mason. Althaia weapt upon the hand and willed it to be better, as many young children would. But as fate would have it, a dull glow coalesced around her father's battered hand. In moments, her own hand began to spike with the worst pain the young girl had ever felt. Recoiled and clutching her hand in tears, she blinked in amazement as her father clenched his own into a fist.
They realized that she had the healing gift, taking the young girl to the healers of Adyniel. They paid her family a large sum of money, enough to get them better living conditions and a life of relative luxury they had never known before. Althaia studied and learned to control her ability, devouring the texts given on application of healing magic. Years passed, her ability continued to grow and she yearned for more and more. At about nineteen years of age, she was one of the most accomplished healers in Adyniel. But it wasn't enough.
One day she wandered through the darkest corner of the library, where tomes containing forbidden practices were kept. She feared being caught, but knew there had to be more to learn. Night after night, book after book, she consumed all the knowledge in the forbidden sections. She learned that one might get a glimpse of the future by reading the entrails of a still living being, clarity depending upon the cognition of the being in question. Sentient species offered the best results...
Her first victim, she will always remember the girl. Hestia was her name, the poor girl had become lost looking for the Temple of Fate. Althaia happened upon her in a small clearing, looking so hopelessly lost. Althaia smiled and assured the girl that she would help her find what she was looking for. She led Hestia through the forest into a dark corner where even the beasts did not stray. Taking the girls hands in her own, Althaia exerted her power of pain upon the lass. The screams, oh Althaia adored the screams, issued from the pair as Hestia collapsed upon the ground with labored breaths. Taking the dagger at Hestia's waist, she held it with shaking hands. Ecstasy filled her as she drug the sharp blade along the stomach of Hestia, blood gurgling out in a slippery mess.
This first victim revealed much to Althaia as she read the entrails, how the Kingdoms held the populace in a vice of disparity. The poor were powerless before the rich, in all lands of Istrea. They feared only one being, who would one day be released. Althaia knew what she must do...
Theme Song: Duality - Slipknot
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