Ancients unleashed (NC EX) (1 spot left!)

[RedRuby]

What I have in mind is a medieval based RP that's heavily based around plot. Sex will probably happen, yes, when it realistically would, such as two characters loving eachother, unfortunate situations (ie bandits) or simply if both are just like that and it's part of the personality, but it's more important to have the character development and possibly romance. It's only considered NC EX because of what -could- potentially happen.

As for the plot, it's only in it's early thoughts, but here's what I have. There's an ancient race that was thought to be extinct known as the Djela (Jay-Lah), and upon some adventurers/unlucky bastards stumbling upon them, they're unleashed upon the world, which is a very bad thing. Then, upon the leader of the Djela revealing itself, we realize how badly shit hit the fan and join together to stop it. Mind you, we wont only be fighting Djela, there'll be plenty of bandits, highwaymen, and such.

When it comes to character creation, keep combat in mind. Weapons range from whatever your mind can conjure up. From swords, to magic, to martial arts, to psychic. Feel free to pick anything :3 except guns or laser swords or futuristic stuff. I'm leaving this very open in terms of creation, between skills, race and everything. As you'll see by my girl, you don't have to go human.

I'll be hoping to get about 5ish people for this.   

[RedRuby]

Here's a profile template. (it doesn't have to be that long >.< I kinda went nuts)

Username: RedRuby
Name: Aikiden S'zerosara 
Origination: A faraway land known as Kyrenia, where combat prowess is viewed as evil.
Race: De'rosovian
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Eyes: Red
Hair: metallic silver
Weight: 88 lbs
Height: 4'10"

Description: Aikiden is a girl that most people would be amazed by. Among her own tribe, she looks fairly normal, however. Her pale, almost blueish skin is smooth to the touch, and her long silver hair radiant and shiny as real metal. Just as with all of her people, she has sharp features. A feature that is unique to De'rosovians is bone spikes from the spine, three on her neck, the other four from the top of her back down to the bottom. She has tried to get rid of these on many occasions, from filing, to clipping and everything in between, despite the pain that it causes her. Her reasoning for this is because she doesn't like how they look much and they get in the way.

Aikiden is very athletic looking, with absolutely zero percent body fat and a quite muscular body. This also means she is very thin and lithe. She stands at 4'10".

Her clothing consists of a large black cloak for blocking the Kyrenian colds, which has a hood for covering her face. Underneath it, she also wears a small black combat skirt, reaching about an inch above her knees, and a white sleeveless shirt that shows a bit of her midriff. Over top of this, she wears a small Mythril chestplate, black in colour with red detail.

She also has light greaves following her black and red motif. All her armor is moderately light and flexible, allowing for speed and precision.
 
Abilities/Weapons: Aikiden is a ferocious warrior, with lightning fast reflexes and phenominal grace. She weilds a two ended Naginata that has a shaft about four feet long. She doesn't have any magical powers, but her physical prowess makes her able to hold her own against many enemies. Unfortunately she isn't the strongest of people, both in terms of raw power and toughness. She can't handle pain all that well because she hasn't been badly injured before, at most, only small cuts.

When Aikiden fights with her fists, she uses a fighting style from another nearby De'rosovian nation. It mainly consists of grabs and acrobatics.
     
Personality: While Aikiden seems very cold, she is actually just very shy. The only place where she truly feels at home is in combat, and anywhere else, she knows nothing about. While her people consider her a truly evil person for practicing combat, she is a kindhearted girl that realizes the importance of knowing how to fight. While she doesn't truly care what her people think, she has been somewhat emotionally scarred by her family's rejection of her. This has made her somewhat unwilling to open up to people. Other than this, she always wants to help people and protect them, even if she doesn't know them, willing to go to lethal force shockingly quickly for her normal personality. In combat, she is absolutely ruthless, uncaring for her enemies and willing to even give her own life to save her allies. She doesn't truly care about herself, but only wants to live more so she can become more powerful to protect people. Because she isn't used to speaking English, her language skills are somewhat low, but she's quick to go blurt out Kyrenian when frustrated, embarassed or hurt. (Note: when speaking, the absolute closest I can say her accent is is a slight Russian edge on it)

Bio: Aikiden was born as Deliana to the S'zerosara tribe; a nomadic group in cold, snowy mountains. However, her tribe was a passive one, where any aggressive acts were deemed to be acts of demonism. On some of their travels when she was six, Aikiden's brother and sister were killed by bandits, and none of the other tribesmen were able to do anything about it. From that point, Aikiden secretly began improving her combat prowess. About four years later, it paid off when the very same group of bandits attacked the tribe, thinking they were going to be easy kills and easy payoff. They didn't expect a ten year old girl to quickly dispatch of them with an improvised spear made from a shovel. Despite saving all of their lives, the elder of her tribe exiled her for using aggression to save them. Even her parents were furious and uncaring. Frustrated as she was, she knew there was no way to talk her way through it. She got all of her things and left to travel. She; however, regretted nothing. She was evil. A demon, possessed by thoughts of bloodlust and violence. But she felt good. Like she had done the right thing. The name her family had given her as she left still heavy in her heart. "Aikiden" The kyrenian word for Demon.

After a few of walking through the harsh landscapes of Kyrenia training for hours out of every day, she made her way into another country, exhausted and deep in despair. As she would soon realize, this was the military capital of the area, and here is where she lived for three years, learning all she could about combat. Every day, it hung upon her what her parents would have thought, and the name eventually overpowered her own. No more was she Deliana, she was now only an "Aikiden", a demon of violence and aggression. It didn't fit to her personallity, but to her mind, it was what she was. When the girl was 18, she left to gain more power to protect, and maybe even find out a bit about herself. 

[Wolf Heart]

Oooh, this does seem very interesting. If you don't mind, I'll go ahead and begin work on a psionic character, probably based on the Mind Blade from D&D. And probably something scalie, if that's alright. Either way, I'll just go ahead and start working on it. ^_^

[Caela]

This sounds fun...will work up a human for approval this afternoon.

[Brittlby]

Username: Brittlby
Character Name: Mezolene Myndar
Origination: A Negotiator from the Metropolis of Damacian
Race: Deadspeaker
Age: 23
Sex: Female
Eyes: Pale Blue
Hair: Crimson
Weight: 112
Height: 5'10"

Description: Beauty is a terrible burden... In a harsh world, obsessed with ownership, beauty can be more of a curse then a blessing. Crafted by nature, Mezolene Myndar was proof positive that there is some force guiding creation, her skin just the proper shade, her eyes perfect in size, set in a angular yet effeminate face. Her nose the sculpted perfection that has eluded even the master painters throughout time. Mezolene's hair hung in beautiful tresses, wild and lively in their tight red curls.

    Even her one notable imperfection, a black blemish dappling her chin, seemed to accent her loveliness... To say nothing of the fact she had a pair of breasts of excessive size, yet perfect proportion, defying numerous laws of gravity with a pert glee. These she tends to wedge into a french corset, topped by a pastel satin dress. Surprisingly spry for a lady of such stature, weighed down by that much fabric, she seems well versed in all matters of the court and the merchant's bazaar. Her arctic blue eyes are unsettling however, possessing a certain predator's glee to them.


Weapons/Abilities: Her only weapon is a thick length of rope she calls "Mrs. Phyx". It seems to demonstrate mystical properties, moving on it's own, reminiscent of a so called "indian rope trick". Mezolene has a natural affinity for necromantic arts, speaking the tongues of the dead without any apparent difficulty, as well as an ability to provide the departed with brief periods of animus. Not properly schooled in the arts, she lacks the ability to command armies or properly resuscitate the dead. Not so much a puppeteer as simply one who has an intuitive knack, she utilizes the dead as a natural extension of herself. The dead are her weapon, and she wields them in frightening ways that are both crude and unsettling to even her own ilk.

A skilled courtesan, she is Damacian trained in the carnal arts. Her reputation is one of "Negotiator", and she has garnered some renown as being able to settle disputes between the peoples of various realms with... substantially reduced bloodshed. Blackmail, seduction, and fear are her weapons of choice... though strangulation deaths go up in any city she's staying, making one wonder if she doesn't occasionally enjoy getting her hands dirty.

Personality: A psychopath and hedonist in a world where the terms have little meaning, she has at best the facade of empathy. She has a strange sense of value, and while many might describe her as manipulative, her machinations are not motivated by greed. Hungry for experiences of ever greater personal value, she is a sensation junkie and thrill seeker without conscience.

That isn't to say she doesn't have a sense of fairness, often utilizing ward and ritual magics in a contractual fashion to ensure satisfaction during negotiations. In regards to her services... she sets the price, duration, and limits, refusing to haggle further. Murder, mediation, domination, seduction, communication with the dead, or escort services. She also offers group rate discounts...

Bio: Phyx, a name synonymous with infamy. "The Angel Maker". Thirty years prior, Mrs. Phyx woke one morning in her dingy home. A seamstress by trade, she eeked out a living by providing clothing to the lower echelon's of the wealthy elite of Damacian. The morning was like any other, except that this was the day the angel would speak to her.

The angel had nothing but it's voice, and it whispered to her. It told her secrets. Trivial things about her neighbors or her property or even her customers. Lonely and worn from a life of crushing ennui, the angel became her only true friend. And over time, it became more... intimate.

Though his voice was as sweet as honey, there was only so much a whispered caress of breath could accomplish. Mrs. Phyx hit upon an idea, no doubt guided by the words of her angel.

To make him a suit of flesh...

In Damacian, no one missed the occasional vanishing debtor or vagrant. She chose each piece of her angel carefully, spending months finding the slender hands she favored. Eyes of arctic blue. Lips, firm and thin. With needle and thread she put together her angel, piece by piece. When she finished, her angel put on the suit of flesh, and sat up, taking a moment to grow accustomed to the fit.

Made to love her, the angel did just that. It lay with her each night, leaving each day. The disappearances continued, though Mrs. Phyx paid this no mind. It never occurred to her that there might be more "angels"...

Her "angel" had begun to gather ever more flesh, piecing together an army that would sweep across the land of man and take a bloody toll upon the mortals. Or so it would have been, but for the discovery of the demonic invasion. The fallen angels were burned, their suits of flesh reduced to ash. Nothing more then a voice once more, her angel offered little comfort to Mrs. Phyx as she was led to the gallows...

And it is in the gallows our story begins.

Amongst the refuse, human and otherwise, in the depths of the gallows pit there arose the gurgling cry of a newborn. Pulled from the depths, it was assumed that the child was discarded to die by a careless mother. It wouldn't have been the first time. With dark smooth skin of a Damacian girl, she was noted as exceptional for her brilliant pale blue eyes. Having scarcely breathed, she was a treasure for the harems already.

Raised to know the intricacies of desire, she surpassed her teachers rapidly. While none knew of her true mother, Mezolene was well aware of her lineage. She spoke to her almost daily. Eager for any excuse to visit the gallows, jokingly, they began calling her Little Death. She never missed a single hanging in sixteen years...

When it was retired for a larger venue, she paid off an executioner to assure that she receive the killing rope as a memento. Despite her morbid tendency in this regard, her company was much sought after. Elegant and lovely, she embodied the exotic flavor of Damacian, she wore the aloof and untouchable perfection of a lady of standing... while being amongst the most jaded of harlots once the bedroom door was closed.

She was nineteen when she first heard the angel. Knowing full well who he was, she was less than receptive to his wishes. He wanted her to kill for him. To make a suit of flesh that he could inhabit, as her mother before her had done. Offering her her dreams, she was too well acquainted with the promises men made when passion ran high, and how quickly they were broken when they got what they wanted.

Mezolene gathered her funds, purchasing her freedom for a piddling amount of her savings. Setting out into the world, the silence was brief. The angel found her where ever she settled, bringing horrors in his wake. And so she became a traveler. Grasping great bloody fistfuls of life, she enjoys every day, seeking out new lands and people, dead and alive. A life without limits or moral qualms, she lives by only one rule...

Never stop.

It's rare that she spends more than three days in a single city. Those rare occasions she has dillydallied have brought the wrath of her father. A whispered voice on the wind, his carefully chosen words can bring down kingdoms.

[RedRuby]

Awesome profile! :D and you two are accepted, as I'm pretty much going on first come first serve.

Oh, and a little note, don't consider me the GM or anything, if you want, just PM me and we can work in anything for your character :3 this is their story too :3

four more profile spots :D

[RedRuby]

It seems like an alright time now to explain the Djela, as they were an ancient evil from a common story, thought to be fictional.

Thousands of years ago, there was a mighty race called the Djela. They were proud, powerful, and terrifying in appearance, but at the same time peaceful, intelligent, and honourable. Recordings of appearances all say the same thing. They're almost demonic people, 10-15 feet tall with dark skin and horrific body pertrusions. The king, who was seen many times by other royalty, was said to be more human than other Djela, only about 6 feet tall and with a large beard, although this may be due to a type of magic or something, it was never discovered. All the races lived together peacefully until the Djela king; Theneanno died, leaving the throne to a mysterious figure known only as Shaloura-Nhan. Under king Shaloura-Nhan, the Djela realized their power and declared war against all other races. 

With the most powerful race in the world on murderous rampages, killing, burning, devouring, and even raping the innocent people they came across, the elders of each race had no idea what to do. There were already wars between a few countries, but after the destruction of the human capital, they knew what had to be done. All the races banded together against the Djela, but unfortunately, were massacred. The most powerful warriors from each race were brought together, told of what they must do. With the assistance of a De'rosovian monk with a special stone, the heroes avoided the frontline war, and absolute destruction. They travelled straight to the Djela capital, where they were met with fanfare and glory. Without any fight, they were brought up to Shaloura-Nhan's throne room. A single human refused to go up, knowing it to be a trap, and he turned around, going home. All that is known beyond that, is that the Djela all collapsed into dust on the battlefields. The heroes were victorious, but none were ever seen again. The tale of the Djela was told by the human who returned, still hailed as a hero, despite what he did.

Today, it is only regarded as an old tale, any proof of the battles long since gone. Some parents even tweak the story to get their children to eat their vegetables.        

[Caela]

Username: Caela
Character Name: Kathwyn
Origination: Unknown, she wanders all the lands that won't kill a human on sight and hires her sword out to those she feels have a just cause.
Race: Human
Age: 25
Sex: Female
Hair: Deep chestnut brown
Eyes: Dark amethyst purple
Height: 6'0
Weight: 170

Appearance:

Weapons/abilities: Kathwyn (Wyn to friends) is never seen without a sword on her back, and blades at her hips, in sheathes on her forearms and often another tucked into each of her boots. Her long chestnut mane is often tied back into a tight braid and is the perfect hiding place for a garotte wire and when she travels a bow rides her back beside her sword. She had no problem with looking deadly despite the beauty of her features. Being female, even tall and well armed, men often underestimate her, expecting her to be soft under all the blades and are often surprised to find that instead of softness she is as sharp as the blades she carries and uses as naturally as she breathes.

She is also skilled in hand to hand combat using a variety of marital techniques and improvising them with basic street fighting skills. Just where she learned to fight this way, no one knows and she isn't sharing.

Personality: Quiet, stoic almost, she appears brooding and contrary but is really quite shy. She spends most of her time on the road and her people skills suffer for it. She's not good at polite small talk, instead preferring to cut to the heart of a matter as quickly, and efficiently as possible. She had a strong sense of right and honor and almost never tells a lie unless someone's life is on the line. She never tells the pretty, polite, lies that are so often found among the gentry and is terrible at games of intrigue.

She's a warrior, and is most comfortable with other warriors who understand her silence and the small smiles that play on her lips as she oils and sharpens her weapons.

Background: Little is known of the mercenary except that she appears and disappears on a whim. Those that have tried to track her have met with no success and those that try to hire her for nefarious purposes often find the blade they'd thought to turn on someone else, at their own throat. She doesn't discuss her past except to admit she has one and the look on her face when she says it makes it clear it is NOT open for further discussion.

She wanders where she pleases, often with only her gelding MoonShadow for company for months at a time. Her horse himself is stygian black with just the barest hint of white along his back that makes him seem nothing more than a silvery shimmer when the moon is full and shining on him. Trained as a war horse he is never far from Kathwyn's side and there is no need to lead him by a bridle when she walks. He seems to have chosen her as much as she has chosen him and the only time her face softens is when she is talking to her horse.

[RedRuby]

Ok, profile is looking good :3 and someone signed up through PM and I dunno if he's going to post here until he has a profile, so I'll just mention that. One more spot! :3

[Wolf Heart]

Username:
Wolf Heart

Name:
Isk'Karra 

Origination:
Tribe of starscale nomads of the Locel plains.

Race:
Starscale

Actual Age:
60 (Relative: 20)

Gender:
Male

Weight:
193 lbs

Height:
6' 2"














Description:
Isk'Karra is large for his race, standing about half a head above the average male. His coloring is also darker over the majority of his body, his scales being a luminescent midnight blue, brightening down to the end of each of his limbs. The prehensile flare at the end of his shoulder tendrils are the only exceptions, radiating a quite normal cyan from it's base. He has green eyes with reptilian pupils as well as black talons on his hands and feet.

He wears little, like the rest of his kind, fully content with the decorative steel rings his race finds fashionable. Beyond that, he wears little but a pair of faded blue chaps and leather leg-guards.

Abilities/Weapons:
Isk has the ability to manifest a small selection of physical weapons from metaphysical energy. His weapon of choice is the glaive depicted above, though he can also create a long bow and dagger, as needed. They manifest as glowing, white energy  that moves like captured smoke, and wrap around his hands and up his arms a short way, rather than being gripped by them.

He also has limited telekinetic and empathic abilities left over from his training with the manifested weapons, though he hardly uses them. He is well trained in combat and archery, though quite a bit less so in stealth. He is a warrior, and has few arguments, if any, to the contrary.

Personality:
Calm, distant, and serious in most respects,  Isk can seem a bit cold and unapproachable at times. This is a bit of a misconception, however, since he is quite nice whenever he's not thinking himself through some vexing brain teaser of a question or training with his spirit weapons. In fact, he thoroughly enjoys the company of others, especially those who are undaunted by his admittedly unsettling appearance and/or attitude.

He has chosen a monk-like life style, living off his own work, be it as a hired hand or as an adventurer. In keeping with his own ideals, he carries little with him but a waterskin, a small pouch of coin, the clothes on his back, and, when necessary, a pack of dried foodstuffs.

Bio:
Isk'Karra was born into a nomadic tribe of Starscale, a race originally from a number of small islands off the coast. He was raised by the tribe as a whole, and taught to fight when he showed interest in such things by the master at arms. The master taught him how to harness the energy around him and use it to create a physical weapon, rather than making it of wood, iron, and steel as most races do.

Life amongst the tribe became far to stale for him and his thirst for knowledge, however, so he left them, taking naught but what he had made with his own hands and the trinkets given to him, as per their custom. He can find it a little difficult to understand the customs of other races, but he is quick to learn and has become quite a bit more... experienced... than the excitable young man he had once been.

_{(Complete for the time being. May flesh it out a bit more, if the opportunity presents itself.)}

[RedRuby]

https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=111009.0

Yay, I got it up! :3

there's still one spot though, and when AlphaMale creates a profile, he'll join us as well. It's better I guess, so that six people don't just all show up somewhere at the same time.

So post whenever you can, and I'll do the same :3

[RedRuby]

https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=111042.0

sorry it took so long, but here's the OOC!

[AlphaMale]

Username: AlphaMale

Name: Kaden Divinum

Age: Unknown (appears late twenties, early thirties)

Origination: Realm of the Gods

Race: Guardian

Gender: Male

Eyes: Misty green

Hair: Onyx

Height: 6’5’’

Weight: 200 lbs

Description: Kaden has the build of a warrior. With a towering frame reeking of prowess, only to be compared with a predator such as the panther or wolf, moving with such grace and lethal radiance. Broad shoulders lead down to a toned exterior, indented abdomen and rippling pectorals pronouncing his physical abilities. Far from grotesque in size, his lean, muscular body strides with confidence. Dark locks of obsidian hair are in rich, thick supply upon his head, neither long nor short, clinging to his forehead and the sides of his face when wet. Masculine and dark with an often brooding appearance, strong features to his face, impeccable, created by the divines and thus perfect. The handsome planes of his features are shadowed by a faint dark stubble which dusts his fierce jaw, piercing green eyes sharp and missing nothing. Black armour moulds to his chest, a shining breastplate made to fit the indents of power beneath, leaving his biceps exposed lest for the leather bands that encase his forearms and upper biceps near his shoulders. Black trews cover his legs, a loose leather like substance, black which hang from his hips.

Abilities/Weapons: A blazing sword is sheathed at his back, the hilt appearing just over his shoulder and when without his master weapon, he resorts to the skilful movements of his body, using strength and technique to combat his opponent. Upon his will the blade will ignite with a blue flame, the silver engraved with intricate patterns of the Gods. His abilities aid him in battle, his strength unrivalled, his speed inhuman and the grace of his movements animal. Maintains the ability to send a thought to an ally, as well as receive it from one of his kind. Has the power to send out a vibe like pulse which will send most beings crumbling to their knees as the base fills the air, stuttering their hearts for enough time for Kaden to end them, seemingly shaking the ground and the surroundings. Remarkably swift reflexes.

Bio: Kaden is a Guardian, a race thought to be extinct or mere rumour amongst the beings whom inhabit the earthen realm. Centuries past he was created for the explicit purpose of protection, of an artefact the Gods deemed worthy of guard. His reason for existence, to protect such an item known as The Subject. Favoured by the Gods, the warrior was unrivalled in battle, expected to demolish demons, magic wielders, and all manner of beings to protect The Subject with his very life. When a horde attacked the Godly realm, the Guardian fought with his every breath, the evidence in the scarring which he carries along his torso, sustaining fatal wounds yet he would not fall. When incapacitated, the artefact was destroyed. And now, Kaden has been banished to Earth, without knowledge of society and only a warrior’s heart, mind and honour. Unaccustomed to emotions, he begins to gradually develop them, encountering lust, grief, passion and need. Innocent of much, naïve and lost, he embarks on a venture to earn back his status with the Gods, to gain passage back to the Godly plane, through performing heroic deeds and joining ranks against the Djela.

Personality: The Guardian will appear stoical, rather animal in nature and utterly ruled by instinct, hiding a cunning intelligence. Though his manner may seem dismissive, he merely does not find reason to speak unless necessary as he had been trained, constantly assessing his surroundings, situation, searching for any threat. Ruled by honour and moral cause, he will offer his forces to the weak over the strong, an oddly compassionate nature inside of him and a fierce passion and need to protect those vulnerable. Discovering emotion, earthen society and the different races causes him to be studious, finding that he is completely naïve of many things, from sexual activity to emotional attachment to another. Passionate yet volatile, he will not take kindly to insults and will ensure beings are respected with due cause.