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*Opens with a view of a dusty plain. Pan camera to the right.* The Ancients. *Flash of a giant clawed hand knocking away human and Elven soldiers.* Powerful, horrible beasts from before the Ser arrived, who were gifted with Chaos‘s power. *A flash of a human warrior, brown hair, brilliant blue eyes and his helmet missing, ramming his spear into a beast’s chest and blasting it away with fire magic.* They came to destroy that which we held dear and leave ruin in their wake. *Villages burning, with corpses of women, children and older people everywhere, along with the soldiers who had fallen fighting the threat.* They slaughtered everything that was in their path. *Pans along the plain, then a flash to a fanged mouth tearing out the throat of a mother protecting her children.* No one could stand against them. *Soldiers dead on a field of grass, body parts and blood adding to the carnage.* So we marshaled our forces, *shows a grand army and three men at the head, facing 10 lumbering shapes coming towards them,* and we made our stand. Our women and children were safe near the Ser, and we stood to face them, *The shapes stop, one of them roaring a challenge,* and we kept our courage, charging against a foe who meant certain death. *The army of men and elves charges forward, yelling their battle cries.* We met them head on, *the figure roars again and the shapes rush forward as well, intent on crushing all resistance,* and each of us fought with the strength of a thousand men that day. We gave no ground and no quarter, even as our numbers thinned, *a giant blade, grafted to a creature’s arm, cuts several men and elves in half, but determination is on their faces,* and one by one, we brought them to their knees. *A shadowed shape goes down, a defeated roar passing its lips, then another, and another, all roaring in defeat.* Victory or death was our creed that day, and it was victory we had. *The last of the forms falls and several powerful mages come forward as another appears, this one wielding two giant blades.* We even felled their master that day, the being who made them what they were. *The mages channel their powers, and the forms all begin to vanish into a seal, though they fight it to the end, the final form yelling and swearing revenge.* We sealed them away, our greatest mages giving their lives for the safety of their families. *The seal closes and the mages fall, drained of life, but when their bodies are turned over, there are smiles of triumph on their faces.* We returned to our women and children and elderly, bearing both the jubilation of victory and the sorrow of guilt, knowing we’d all be telling women and children that their husbands and fathers and sons weren’t coming home. *Flash of the faces of women, both proud and sad, and children taking their fathers helm and solemnly wearing it in his stead.* I was one of the mages who assisted in the sealing of the Ancients and their master, the one chosen to remain after death. *Panning right and zooming out slightly as it nears the center.* I was cursed, cursed to wander Serin until the Ancients were truly defeated, slain rather than bound. *Comes to a sword resting in the center of the field, tip in the ground.* That day comes soon, when the Ancients will be set free, free to begin their rampage anew, but it is not now. Now, I begin to push the minds of those who will fight them on the day they are freed, and make sure they are ready for it, willing to sacrifice everything to protect humanity. *Zooms in on sword, a human figure now visible behind it, hands resting on the pommel, though the figure is fuzzy.* They will be strong, *Flash of a select group of humans,* swift, *elves running through the trees,* undeterred, *flash of another race,* and faithful. *A flash of the groups united.* They will lead the charge to the final battle, be the result victory or death. *The human form becomes more solid, showing a man with red hair and bright green eyes, and he draws the blade from the ground, runes igniting along its length and fire lining its edge.* We will not go into the night quietly! * He lunges forward, towards a group of ghostly shadowed forms, the same forms that were sealed in previous flashbacks.*
Name: Ferus Jendarth
Weapon(s): twin Great swords
Magic(s): Blade Craft
Appearance: Electric blue eyes, light red hair, lithe, strong build, silver and black scale mail armor, six feet, two inches tall
Back story: Will be revealed over the course of the RP.
Age: 150 (looks 25)
Weapon(s): Longbow, Longsword
Appearance: Long, forest green hair, forest green eyes, fair skin, leather armor (http://lagueuse.deviantart.com/art/leather-armor-woman-archer-356569144 Top piece, leather skirt for the bottom piece), five feet, 6 inches tall
Back story: Will be revealed over the course of the RP.
Name: Laura Midante
Weapon(s): sword staff (http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Sword-Spears-and-Staff-19863158 First one), magic revolver
Magic(s): Elemental Magic-general
Appearance: five feet, two inches tall, short cut, silver hair, silver eyes, silver and gold mage armor (http://telmand.deviantart.com/art/Armor-concepts-2-303281176 First one with a gold cloth skirt)
Back story: Will be revealed over the course of the RP.
Age: mid 30s?
Race: human, demon, elf? (has the features of all 3)
Weapon(s): Balefire Quarterstaff
Magic(s): Elemental and Shadow
Appearance: (D&D Tiefling) 6', 175 lbs, burnt red leathery skin and bright red eyes. Clothes are dark burnt blacks browns and reds. (Leather and Cloth)
Back story: N/A
Name: Amur Tycath
Age: 120 (looks like 25)
Weapons: Bow, Martial Arts, Daggers
Magics: Restoration, Elemental
Appearance: 6'2", Sun tanned skin, Athletic build, toned muscles,
Backstory: Born into a family of Elven martial artists and hunters, Amur has trained from a very young age in various martial arts and survival skills. When the rest of the Elves were leaving he decided to stay behind preferring to live mostly on his own. Whatever excess Amur collects from hunting, foraging, and using his elemental magic, he takes to a nearby human village and trades for what he can’t get on his own (salt, wine, arrow heads, etc.). The humans in the village of Hentel accept him and even welcome him when he comes to trade, as Amur is the only one who will venture beyond the radius of the Ser stone held in the village. Amur will fight to protect the Ser stone held in the village center. He also keeps a tiny Ser shard as an amulet that allows him to go into the ‘chaos’ areas. Amur does not like people who try to cheat or steal from him, but wont hold a grudge for long. He trades fairly and from time to time even takes requests from some of the residents of the village.
Weapons: Enchanted Bow, Twin Daggers (http://elderscrolls.wikia.com/wiki/Nightingale_Bow)
Magics: Restoration, Elemental (primarily Nature but dabbles in the other elements too)
Appearance: A beautiful gold and white furred kitsune. Stands 5'6" in her humanoid forms. Slight yet curvy figure and build. 9 Tailed.
http://www.google.com/imgres?start=704&hl=en&sa=X&tbo=d&biw=1366&bih=653&tbm=isch&tbnid=G-BAR7cbLUDA_M:&imgrefurl=http://www.dragoart.com/tuts/309/2/1/easy-step-by-step-drawing-instructions-for-how-to-draw-a-kitsune.htm&docid=SgxCRH95wpa0pM&imgurl=http://www.dragoart.com/tuts/pics/8/309/how-to-draw-a-kitsune.jpg&w=935&h=541&ei=9Ne0UIacHIiA2gXq8IGgAw&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=470&vpy=141&dur=512&hovh=143&hovw=247&tx=174&ty=117&sig=118318008098421480905&page=22&tbnh=143&tbnw=247&ndsp=33&ved=1t:429,r:24,s:700,i:76 birth form
Backstory: When she first gained her ninth Tail she did something most would call stupid. She sacrificed much of her power to destroy an ancient source of evil that threatened her home. In doing so she was cursed. Cursed to live until the universe ends, no matter what befalls her. She can die but will not stay dead and any injuries sustained will regenerate within a week at the longest. That was a very long time ago and her power has since regenerated and she waits forever alone until the day she will be needed to protect Ser as the only Kitsune to choose sides even though she retains her ability to go where she wishes without hindrance. She has seen many generations come and go as she quietly watches.
Race: Human, Male
Weapon: Staff and sword.
Magic: Restoration Magic
Quote: "Old wizards don't get that way by being easy to kill."
Appearance: He looks like a wizard should. Very old with a long white beard and a pointed hat that he is very proud of. His robes are a white that has turned somewhat grey due to travel dust and general use. He has a longsword that he used to wave about a lot more when he was younger, but rarely wears it now unless he expects trouble. His belt contains multiple pouches and slots for glass vials, most of which are full of various healing supplies.
Back story: Like all old people, he used to be a lot younger. In his youth he served as a combat healer for several different warlords (as who controlled the area's Ser Shards was subject to change every so often) and learned the blade so he could defend himself and those who needed healing.
He rarely uses the sword today, doing just enough to keep his skills from totals vanishing, but trains less and less often because "The blasted thing is murder on my wrist and back." But in spite of this he knows that it would be true folly to let his skill with the blade rot like so much meat left in the sun.
Age: 97 (looks about mid 20's)
Weapons: Dark Staff, Shadow Revolver, and Martial Arts
Magic: Shadow/Elemental (mainly Fire)
Appearance: Black, medium armored robes. Dark skin, red eyes, 7ft. 2, moderate muscle mass.
Back story: Born in a small village, and his parents were killed from Replons. The small elf boy had always aspired as a mage, and especially loved fire. Being the odd child he was, he was the origin of many fights, and eventually learned from the village's Blade Smith how to fight. And he learned well. The Smith had been like a father to him, and made him a staff, Scorchon, that amplified his powers. Later in his life, he had found books of Shadow Magic, he found this side of magic very interesting. When the Breaking had happened, his village fell to the chaos, and he had, not fallen to it, but embraced it. His staff had become corrupted, and became Souldron From a human outpost he had once raided, he found a revolver and modified it to his powers. He is not a creature of Chaos, he is a disciple of it. He wanders Serin, seeking victims to his never-ending bloodlust.
Edited by Zarkun on 7/11/2013 8:22 PM PDT
*pokes the rp wondering if it will live as I do the first IC*
I walk through the gate to Ren having traveled a fair distance from the village I normally stayed at. I wore a hood and cloak given this was a human settlement that as far as I knew didn't have much relations with the few elves that remained in service to Ser. I was heading for the market district as I had gathered some pelts to trade.
Amur reached Ren as the sun was just rising, as it was across all of Serin, stirring creatures, good, evil and neutral, into wakefulness and activity. Several people of note on all sides awaken as well, already deciding on how to go about their day.
OOC: Those people are the RPers. I won't IC post until everyone else does.
Walking down the path, I pause to catch my breath, squinting at the sunrise;
...dawn already?... most have woken later that I though...
Shaking my head to dismiss the thought, I continue onwards into the new day.
Edited by Warhawk on 7/17/2013 8:24 PM PDT
I walk through the gates of the Human settlement. My cloak and hood concealing my body, face, and my gear. I keep to myself, and keep my need for blood in check as I do not want to start anything. I glance up every once and a while to see if there are any points of interest.
There are none.
"Bleh why do I even bother coming to these places?" I ask myself as I walk through the settlement. My cloak and hood enchanted to hide the few bits of my true identity I can't lose when I change forms though at times I could pass as a Mozan. I somewhat dreaded human towns as they generally resulted in being chased by hunters look to procure Kitsune tails but I put up with em for the most part. My hood was back enough to reveal my soft half tanned skin and bright golden hair which was an oddity for pretty much any race but far enough forward to hide my ears. "This isn't going to end well."
I manage to fairly trade for some fresh arrows and a loaf of bread and some water before I head towards the town hall.
Ferus Jendarth was the youngest of two siblings, and the boy. There were five years between him and his Big Sis, though they way they fought, you'd never know it. From a young age she had him fighting to get stronger like her and join the Silver Knights, a group of noble people who fought to find and protect Ser Shards from people who exploit or destroy them. The rest of his story if for another time.
On this day, Ferus was already awake, running his training like he had everyday since his sister had disappeared during a mission. Finishing the final motion of a slice, the sheaths the great sword he wielded and headed for the forest paths, intending to see what creatures of Chaos hunted them today. He lived near Ren, though far enough away he had his privacy.
As Vorcha walks into the tavern, he immediately notices an elite group of men and women sitting at a corner table and talking, all wearing silver armor. A voice from somewhere speaks to his mind. Remain there in the tavern and when the time comes, keep those Silver Knights busy. Just as quickly the voice vanishes.
A group of travelers passes by Araea and she gets a feeling from them she doesn't like, almost as if they weren't real people. She feels something...dark, about them.
OOC: War, where is Morthos at precisely?
I hear the voice and at first wonder why I'm being spoken to... And by who... But then I think, Hm. I guess I haven't been in a good fight in a while. I'll see how these armored men and women would fare against me.
I smirk under my hood and have a seat near them, waiting for the supposed moment.
Edited by Korozain on 7/18/2013 4:29 PM PDT
A little ways outside the town around a bend in the road.
Coming around a bend in the road, I continue walking up the gentle slope towards the town. Carefully watching the guards for trouble, I hardly notice the other traveler walking alongside me.
The guards seem almost bored with their job, though only a fool would think they were lax. They wore silver armor and their eyes were always watching the travelers and the forest, ever alert. One, wielding a battle ax, stops Morthos. "What is your business, corrupted?"
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