You can have only one character. And you cannot use someone else’s character without their permission.
If you want to just use your SICK novel character you can, save you some generation time, but feel free to mod them a bit with some of the above information.
If you want to give your character a name other than your forum username you may do that too.
If you are unsure of a class, race, location, just go for what you know most about. But there are a few here who should be able to guide you through, just don’t go asking questions in the wrong threads.
Bio’s can be as big or as small as you want, the more detailed it is, the better it will help to describe your character, and you wont have to try do it later, but do leave some room for development.
Figured I’d just add in game world, as classes from the various worlds do differ in some aspects, DnD barbarians cannot wear heavy armor, while Diablo ones can.
Name: Race: Class: Age: Affiliations: Deity: Game world: Bio:
Anything else is up to you, Height, weight, etc, but don't feel obligated to do so.
Here are a few NPCs that your character may interact with during the course of this thread.
Name: Shikyomaru Race: Human Class: Fighter (Kensai) Age: 25 Affiliations: None Deity: None Game world: Fae’run Bio: A lone warrior, a vagabond. A tall man, dressed in a simple robe wielding two Katanas, with deadly accuracy, though one is usually kept in its scabbard, attached to his belt. Not overly known for his presence on the battlefield, but his skill with his swords have garnered him the name circle of death, possibly due to some of his more visually impressive sword moves. He also has a small set of throwing knives, which seem to fly through the air. He speaks with a Kara Toran accent (Japanese).
Name: Sir Elric Sigmundson Race: Human Class: Paladin (Cavalier) Age: 48 Affiliations: The Order of the Radiant Heart Deity: Torm Game world: Fae’run Bio: A steadfast warrior of Torm, a loyal and most trustworthy friend to those who know him. He has served in the Order of the Radiant Heart for many years. He strives to be a role model for younger Order members, in the hopes of one day becoming a Prelate of the Order, and thus able to make decisions about how the Order should be run. His primary concern is of course the smiting evil and defending of the weak.
Name: Baeithra Baenurden Race: Drow Class: Cleric Age: 175 Affiliations: None Deity: Lloth Game world: Fae’run Bio: Hailing from the underground city of Ust Natha, Barithra is a beautiful yet deadly Drow. Much like any of her race she dislikes those from the surface, and especially males. Drows are a matriarchal race, Females are the dominant ones, and males are viewed much like slaves. Baeithra is fiercely devoted to Lloth, the demon Queen of Spiders. She hopes to join the ranks of the Hand Maiden’s of Lloth, the premier devotees of Lloth, but for now is content with her religious standing.
Name: Sir Karl Sturmgard Race: Human Class: Paladin Age: 55 Affiliations: Order of the Hammer Deity: Sigmar Heldenhammer Game world: Old World Bio: An aging but still effective warrior, he is a strong force of righteousness. When he isn’t out righting wrongs and slaying evil he is at home in the war torn province of Mordheim (bordered by Reikland and Sylvania). He has been assigned the young squire Heinrich Hohenhiem, whom Karl serves as a father figure and mentor for the young boy, so that he might learn what it takes to be a Knight. An old comrade in arms of Elfen Lied, he has been on several of Elfen Lied’s various campaigns over the years. He speaks with a Mordheimian accent (German).
Name: Heinrich Hohenheim Race: Human Class: Fighter Age: 20 Affiliations: Order of the Hammer Deity: Sigmar Heldenhammer Game world: Old World Bio: Heinrich is an eager, young knight in training, he is rarely found far from his mentor Karl Sturmgard, and hopes that under his tutelage, he will pass his test of Knighthood and become a full fledged Knight of the Realm. He is a quick study, and very knowledgeable, he only lacks experience, but he is fairly competent with a sword, though he has yet to truly master a Greatsword and instead uses a longsword.
Name: Wulfgar Race: Human Class: Barbarian Age: 35 Affiliations: Shadow Wolf Tribe Deity: Talic Game world: Sanctuary Bio: A naturally skilled warrior on the battlefield, sometimes overconfident and often underestimates his opponents. One such encounter led to his capture by slayers looking for fresh meat for pit fights and various other, often illegal, activities. Wulfgar quickly established himself as a champion of the pit fighting circuits, and somewhat earned his freedom, though his notoriety will often force him to prove just how good a fighter he really is, there seems to be no shortage of fools who wish to challenge the former champion. He has moved between several mercenary troupes, but never really found one that suits him. He seems to prefer to be by himself, but will join groups of fellow warriors when it suits him. He hopes to one day return to his homelands in the north.
Name: Belgarath Race: Human Class: Necromancer Age: 55 Affiliations: Cult of Rathma Deity: Trang-Oul Game world: Sanctuary Bio: Balgarath, like all those in the Cult of Rathma, seeks a natural balance within the world, and will act if he feels the equilibrium shift to one side or the other. A skilled fighter in his own right, though he prefers to hang back and unleash his potent array of necromantic spells upon his foes. He is often accompanied by an Iron Golem, he refers to as Vasallus, that he transmuted out of a suit of armor.
Name: Eldroth Race: Hylian Class: Ranger Age: 21 Affiliations: Hylian Royal Guard Deity: Din Goddess of Power Game world: Hyrule Bio: Eldroth is an expert marksman, capable even of using his bow whilst on horseback. He grew up hunting wild animals in the fields of Hyrule, but was quickly recruited by the Royal Guard for his skill with a bow, during one of the many wars with the neighbouring hostile territories. Eldroth knows that war and battles are often unavoidable, but he views them as rather pointless wastes of lives. But if his King or superiors command him to fight he will.
Name: Oboro Race: Gerudo Class: Fighter Age: 25 Affiliations: Gerudo Thieves Deity: The Goddess of Sand Game world: Hyrule Bio: Oboro grew up in the harsh deserts of Hyrule, she quickly developed a natural talent for swordplay, able to wield two scimitars at the same time, and display some pretty impressive acrobatics. Her devotion to the Goddess of Sand is only met by her tenacity in battle. She despises those who dismiss her simply as a woman, and will not think twice before teaching them a lesson or two. She is also known for her powers of seduction and charm, and is not afraid to use them.
Name: Thoradin Bronzebeard Race: Dwarf Class: Warrior Age: 135 Affiliations: Bronzebeard Clan Deity: None Game world: Azeroth Bio: If he isn’t burying an axe into someone’s skull, or filling his gullet with ale, chances are he’s probably not conscience. Thoradin is an exceptionally skilled warrior, despite his small stature. He is not one to shy away from a good fight or make one, as the case often is. Always eager to sink his axe into the flesh of some demon or beast, partially due to his dream of having an epic death that will write him into the history books, like other members of his clan. He speaks with a Khaz Modanian (Scottish) accent.
Name: Kathris Moonsinger Race: Night Elf Class: Priest Age: 15000 Affiliations: None Deity: Elune Game world: Azeroth Bio: Knowing very little of the world beyond the borders of here homeland, but is eager to explore them. Kathris is a highly skilled priest, but is capable of handling herself in battle if things get hairy. Not one to force her religious point of view on to others, but she is deeply devoted to Elune, believing, as all Priestesses of Elune do, that Elune will guide her through any and all obstacles she may face, including battle. Kathris is a capable warrior, but prefers to help others that are in need of her talents.
-Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one, and only, truth.
Name: Winston the 4th Race: Hylian Class: Fighter I suppose. Age: 11 Affiliations: SICK Slayers Deity: Silver? Game world: Fire Emblem World Bio: My name is Winston, Winston the 4th. I come from a long line of warriors who always led a band of mercenaries. My father, Winston the 3rd, taught me how to use a sword from a tender age, using wooden sticks. I quickly grasped the fundamentals of swordplay. At the age of 9 I received my first real sword. It was light, easy to use with one hand and sharp. I grew stronger and more adept in the ways of the sword everyday. At the age of 11 I was trained enough to be part of my fathers mercenaries. I was now a mercenary.
Name: Hetfield Race: Human Class: Witcher Age: 31 Affiliations: none Deity: none Game world: SICK
Weapons: Alchemy, steel blade for humans, enchanted silver long sword for monsters and other beings.
Bio: Hetfield, member of the small group called The Witchers.
The Witchers are monster slayers, there are mutated(not in a ninja turtle way). They look like normal men, but they use Alchemy to temporarily enhance there skills to kill and use magic. This leaves them not a normal human anymore, but a mutated being. Still remaining the look of a normal man, but using more Alchemy as it remains addictive and dangerous.
Hetfield was thrown out of Kaer Morhem, one of the top schools available to a Witcher. Being expelled at the age of 18, weeks before his training finals, he practiced un-allowed alchemy. His mutagens were more powerful, but the side effects causes insanity and anger.
In his sin of Wrath, he killed his fatherly figure, his teacher, for trying to stop his developments.
After being kicked out, he studied on his own.
Death was freedom for Hetfield, but being expelled and hated among your friends and peers was the ultimate punishment and shame.
He schooled himself as a Witcher, going town to town slaying monsters for money.
He is very quiet, he keeps to himself.
He teams with his bestfriend, his dog Lops. A Rottweiler.
Name: Phasys Race: Human Class: Theif/Assassin Age: 17 Affiliations: SICK - GXAII Deity: None Game world: Sanctuary Bio: As a young child Phasys' father was killed at the age of five. He began to understand at a much earlier age that the world wasn't what it seemed to be. His mother died when he was fourteen, and he had to live with his brother. When Phasys was 16, his brother left him with nothing at all. Phasys had to steal from the people of his village. As much as it broke his heart, he had nothing else to do. Still a very un-practiced thief, he was eventually caught and exiled from his home village. He ventured on, along the way he practiced with much determination. He eventually became a master in the art of thievery. He is a god at lock-picking, pick-pocketing, and being unnoticed. He steals from everywhere, but no one even knows, so he remains at good terms. Phasys is an independent character, but will automatically make good friends, as he was an outcast in his young days. He is extremely loyal to anyone who helps.
However, life demanded more. He slipped away from his friendliness and became a silent assassin. He held dearly to the friends he had, but rarely makes anymore. His targets have no name, no family, and he himself has no sanity.
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It's the decisions you make when you have no time to make them that define who you are.
Name: Carloseus Race: Human Class: Warrior-mage Age: 18 Affiliations: SICK and SLAYERS Deity: Silver Game world: Sanctuary Bio: Born and raised a barbarian, rose through the ranks quickly but gave it up to start a family. Demons destroyed it one evening while I was away and I came back to find death and fire. Tracked down and slaughtered the demons that had done it, and vowed to rid the world of their evil. Over the years developed fighting skills and learned to master usage of my large swords. Over time body became less and less Barbarian-like, though rejoined barbarian ranks and afforded a group of barbarian elite. Skilled at the art of fighting, and learning of the arcane forces. Appearance: 6' 2" tall, well-built but not bulging. Basically my avatar with black instead of blonde hair. Always have sword brace on my back with merged giant swords 5' 5" long.
Name: Vzalek Comprus
Nickname: Genesis Race: Human Class: Elder Alchemist Age: 65 Affiliations: Exiled from the "Cult of Rathma" Deity: Atheist Game world: Sanctuary Pet Details: A giant black female Eagle named "Aquila" which carries some of Vzaleks supplies. Aquila protects Vzalek from unseen dangers; keeping a close eye on him from afar. Appearance:
Height: 5 Foot 3 Inches Clothing: A long black hooded robe, with a very light but durable chain mail underneath. Leather sandals and a leather satchel wrapped around his torso. Equipment: Being an Alchemist naturally he carries many potions and scrolls. He also has a long wooden pipe protruding from his mouth like a permanent fixture that never seems to extinguish. Weapon: He has a long twisting wooden staff mainly so he can keep his balance but it is also strong enough to strike with. The staff has no magical properties but has been soaked in many Alchemical solutions giving it queer abilities.
Bio: It was the night before the royal coronation and the Rathman; Kovich Comprus could not sleep, for he would soon to be King of the Cult of Rathma and the anxiety of this daunting new royal title scared him somewhat. When the heir finally fell to sleep he dreamt visions of the future, how he would rule with superiority over the Great Citadel and the Cult. In his dreams he was visited by The World Dragon, Trag' Oul; who told him that even though he shall become King he shall only have one son who will be cursed by him from birth. When Kovich asked why, the Dragon Trag' Oul told him that this was the life he had been dealt and thus departed.
Kovich Comprus was now 30 years of age, he had bore 5 daughters and finally one son. He had ruled over the mighty Citadel with wisdom and knowledge, just like the World Dragon had said. The words of Trag' Oul stuck in his mind like a thorn in a wild beast. His son Vzalek Comprus found Necromancy, Bone magics and Curses hard to comprehend and was behind in his education. The only magical pursuit that he excelled in was potion making which was not highly regarded in Rathman Society. The young boy was nicknamed "Genesis" by the priests which taught him because of his queer ability to create new potions unknown to the Cult of Rathma that could create living breathing life and create life within the elements, although control of creation as opposed to control of death was seen as a curse in Rathman Society. His father the King was patient; still in denial of Trag'Ouls words. When his child had reached the age of 13 (The age of adolescence) he had still not learnt any significant Rathman magic at all, the inevitable could not be denied any longer; the son of the king, heir to the throne had been cursed by the almighty ruler Trag' Oul. Kovich spoke to the high-council and told them about the dream that happened that night some 17 years ago, they decided against Kovichs will that his son must be exiled in fear that the mighty Trag' Oul would punish the Cult of Rathma for not doing so sooner. The King Kovich had no choice but to exile poor Vzalek from the Cult and the Citadel but Kovich had grown close to his only son and knew that he would not last long in the Kejistan Jungles alone by himself. Kovich acted against the council and gave his son forbidden knowledge which he had stolen. It came in the form of scrolls and potions. It was a desperate attempt by Kovich to save his sons life from the treacherous jungles. The King knew it was his only chance to save his son. Vzalek was then exiled from the mighty citadel and never knew if his father the King had been caught or punished for his treasonous act.
Vzalek Comprus, now 65 years old, had lived in the Jungles for many decades after being exiled by his father. Vzalek had been surprising successful in surviving the wilderness using his knowledge that he gained from the forbidden scrolls and his own mind to form new Alchemical potions that did many wondrous things indeed. But because of his premature exile from the Cult of Rathma he never had a true understanding of gods, he never knew of Trag' Oul and the curse he had set upon him. Later in his travels when he discovered other Dieties from the places he had visited across Sanctuary, he rejected their ideas because he was unable to use magics and didn't believe in their existence. Whilst adventuring in the forests of South Scosglen; Vzalek made a companion, a stray Eagle exiled from her family much like Vzalek was. The Eagle and Vzalek gained an understanding of each other, helping each other survive in the wilderness alone. This eagle followed Vzalek around, protecting him, always keeping him in sight; often from afar. The Eagle is far too large to sit on his shoulder or arm, but not large enough for Vzalek to ride upon himself. He had wandered the entirety of Sanctuary with this Eagle he named "Aquila", in search for knowledge that he could attain, in the form of Alchemy, logic and life... not death, blood or curses, nor control of the underworld.
Although now aged; he has great intelligence but he still searches for hidden knowledges throughout Sanctuary, unable to quench his thirst for pure knowledge.
Name: Caliban Race: Human Class: Hunter Age: 17 Affiliations: SICK and SLAYERS Deity: Silver Game world: Azeroth Bio: Born as a kid who loved elves, and their Bow skills, i trained my Archery every day till i could hit the bullseye everytime. When i became old enough, i left my home village, and wandered the world, seeking a place where i could use my skills to help the forces of good. I found a group of people people know as SICK, who strive to rid this world of evil, and i found my new home. I joined a legion known as Slayers, yet to become high ranked, i serve them to this very day, more loyal than most. Appearance: 5' 8" tall, well-built. Not short, but not long brown hair. Always carry a bow, and some short swords on my belt.
Like this, but brown hair, no feather, no headband, and a better bow, because his looks like a beginners bow, mine would be more like a masters bow.
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World of Warcraft - Finnegin- Level 80 Enhancement Shaman
Appearance : 6.5 tall, Not heavily built but very strong, hairs standing up and always in a nice mood.
Name: Zubin Draceath
Prefered weapon: Guardian Darklaw
Race: Human Werepyre
Class: Undead slayer ( Can slay other monsters too but slices through vampires and werewolves within a second )
Speciality : Transformation into a Caster , Unmatched speed.
Can only transform when fighting with undead. Age:17
Affiliations: SICK - LoTD
Deity: My Father/Silver
Game world: Darkovia woods
Location: Throne of dark valour
Throne transformation, no power change.
Bio:Order of Blood - Zubin's Fate
It was a full moon that lighted their path as they hurried to the Tower. Twelve figures, all with hooded robes, were walking with a sense of haste. The last two were carrying a bound and gagged woman who was late into her pregnancy. As they made their way closer to their goal the woods silenced in their presence, they could sense the evil.
"How much more time do we have" The robed figure in front said, her voice sounding like poisoned honey.
"Her contractions are five minutes apart" answered one of the men carrying the woman, "we have enough time."
"Perfect" whispered the woman as the Tower came into view.
The Tower was imposing, even if it was almost a ruin. Eight stories high with just two exits, the padlocked door at its base and the barred window at the top. The tower also had a certain power on those in its vicinity. In the towers area you could feel its previous owners rage, despair, and want of freedom. Candle would be blown out without wind and batteries would be drained. But the robed ones could see every blade of grass as if the sun was in the middle of the sky with the light of the moon.
As they neared the doors they showed no surprise as the padlock fell to the ground, unlocked without the key.
They climbed up the eight stories, silent except for the moans of the woman in labor. The stairs ended in a single room containing nothing but a woman's corpse. As the group entered the room the bound woman tried to break her bond and scream a name when she saw the corpse but was knocked unconscious with a syringe into her jugular. As was planned, her body was placed next to the corpse as the moonlight fell onto both of them. The twelve then pulled down their hoods and stood in a circle around the two women as the leader of the group started her speech.
"Four hundred years we have waited for this night. This night four hundred years ago our Countess said with her dieing breath that she would someday return. Today is that day. As the prophesy states, the first son of the Bathory clan will be born tonight. We will give his blood to the Countess and she will live again!" declared the woman, "Get the child." As one of the hooded ones pulled out a ceremonial dagger the mother worked the gag of and yelled out.
"DON'T TOUCH ME! HELP ME! SOMEONE SAVE MY BABY! HEEEEEEE-"
As her stomach was spilled open she fell silent.
"Hurry! The guards will have heard her scream!" The woman said with fear in her eyes.
The child covered with blood was handed to her. As she touched him, the child started crying loudly, almost drowning out the footsteps of the Tower guard running up the stairs with superhuman speed.
"GIVE ME THE KNIFE! NOW!" the woman yelled over the babies shriek, “TAKE THIS SACRIFICE, MY QUEEN! AND RETURN TO YOUR GLORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
The knife swung toward the child's neck as a bullet blasted into the robed leader's skull, killing her instantly and making her drop the child. As one of the soldiers grabbed the child and comforted him, the rest shot the remaining robed ones with a single bullet between the eyes for each of them.
As the last one slumped to the ground, the child's mother, forgotten in the mayhem, called to the soldier holding her child.
With a small breath she whispered to the soldier
"Take care of my little Zubin."
As she closed her eyes with peace, sixteen year old Zubin woke in a cold sweat.
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''May the Gods give you the strength and power to bear the madness which flows through our minds.''
''Zubin, I've always imagined you as a crazy raver. The kinda guy that spends all night dancing to trance music while waving glow sticks and popping ecstasy.'' - Murderface
Name: Mantis Race: Human Class: Swashbuckler Age: 27 Affiliations: Unknown Deity:Tymora goddess of luck Game world:Fae'run
Appearance: Mantis stands about 5'8" with shaggy brown hair and hazel eyes. He wears a normal set of clothing consisting of sturdy boots, brown cloth pants, and a white long sleeve shirt underneath a fashionable green vest. When it suits his mood he may also don a matching green cloak as well. As far as armor goes he only wears a pair of stout leather bracers. At his side he carries a curved single bladed longsword with a blue leather hilt and copper pommel and guard. The blade itself features a heron on each side, the meaning of which only a select few know.
Bio:Some would say that Mantis was one of the more lucky people in the world. He was blessed with a good life, a wonderful home, and could play a mean game of cards. If one were to ask the man himself he'd wholeheartedly disagree. A good life with a wonderful home got boring rather quickly as far as he was concerned, and playing cards got him into far more bar fights than he'd like to recall.
Thus Mantis left his home and became a wanderer, always seeking adventure and excitement. He soon found he was lucky in these areas too, as he was able to travel to many different places and experience many different adventures. That is, until he got lost. And not any normal kind of lost either. The place he ended up was completely unlike anything he had ever known, filled with great evil, and great despair. He came upon several villages that had been ransacked and pillaged by unearthly beings. When he arrived at an especially tiny patch of burning ground called Tristram he finally lost it.
The things he saw there drove him mad, and still to this day he refuses to speak about his experience there. Although Mantis appears calm and completely normal on the surface there always seems to be a darting of his eyes, a twitch in his hand. He's always on edge. Over time Mantis was able to control himself, bring back a semblance of sanity, but there are times when the madness still manages to escape his grip. Sometimes during an intense battle but more often in one on one combat he looses himself to it.
As a result Mantis hates battle, hates taking unnecessary risks, but the boredom and monotony soon set in and he finds himself once more seeking adventure. For this reason Mantis believes he has been cursed by some sort of demon, and for this reason does he seek adventure. Not for treasure, fame, or whatever else, but for a simple release from this vicious cycle.
Name: Venexicus (Venex for short) Race: Human Class: Necromancer Age: 37
Build: Average / Muscular Affiliations: Cult of Rathma Deity: Trang-Oul / Rathma Game world: Sanctuary
Sidekick: Johnny the Skeleton (Summoned minion, low level, scythe weapon).
Bio: Born outside the vast underground Necromancer city, in the harsh Eastern Jungle, Venex was rushed by his father to the home of their people. His mother had died in childbirth. A fitting beginning for a Necromancer - life from the womb of death. Learning the magics of his people from the priests of Rathma, he became a star pupil, embracing the occult and bone magic attributed to the deadlist warrior followers of Rathma. He slew many a monster, summoned many a spirit back to Sanctary, and commanded many a shadow. His teachers gave him a nickname before releasing him from his learning, pronouncing him a devout follower and knowledgeable Necromancer. They called him 'Night Razor' - the choking shadow, silent death, the knife in the darkness.
Name: Thasador Tsuji Race: Human Class: Warrior/Assassin Age: Unknown Affiliations: SICK/ASSASSINS Deity: Silversurfnstud Game world: Sanctuary Bio: Born and raised on the base of Mount Blood near the southeastern lands of the Sanctuary. Blessed by the Gods of War at age 10 and offered my young soul to the Gods in exchange for abilities of a warlord. Casting my soul away, gave me the gift to never age. Slueth my own wicked father and joined the Shogun Edo at age 14. At age 20, granted rank of Elite Guard of the Shogun and was sent to ensnare Nihilithak on the summit of Mount Blood. Was cursed by his powers and combined my gift from the Gods of War with his enchment of The Insanity of War spirit. Lord Silver saved my life and I took a never ending oath to devote my life to vanquish all evil from the Sanctuary by his side.
Weapon: Shuriko (Straight Katana) a flexible but unbreakable blade of razor sharpness, a hilt covered with comfortable leather, and a huge pearl fixed at its end. The magical characters for Celestial Fury are inscribed on the blade, which glows pale violet and crackles with electricity when drawn. The sword is sheathed in a scabbard of dragon hide, the slate-grey scales of which constantly flash with streaks of silver, blue, and violet.
Enchantment: Nihilithak casted an enchment known as The Insanity of War. Armor: Splint mail given to those whom were members of the Shogun Edo Elite Guard, instead of metal strips, this armor uses wyvern scales bound to a chain backing by means of a magical fire. The resulting armor is ash grey in color and more flexible than standard splint mail.
Appearance: 6'1" with massive build. Bald and covered in tatoos from the Shogun Edo.
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Those before me shall quiver in my wake as I unleash the fury within!
Name: Krog'osh Race: Orc Class: Warlock Age: 42 Affiliations: Blackrock Clan Deity: None Game world: Azeroth Appearance: Krog'osh is a large orc standing 6'8" tall, with a muscular frame a clear green skin and black hair. He has a large beard braided into twin braids that stretch approximately one feet down from his chin. His tusks are not particularly large, but create a fearsome picture coupled with his bright red eyes and heavy-set face.
He dons a shroud of black cloth with red trim that covers all of his body except for his arms and head. On his shoulders rest two imposing shoulderpads with dozens of white spikes protruding from them. On his right arm can be seen a large tattoo of Blackrock Spire.
His weapon of choice is a thick and jagged sword of clear steel without any ornaments or distinguishing aspects except for a red line that runs through the blade from the hilt almost all the way to the tip.
Bio: Krog'osh was one of the first orcs to follow Gul'dan after he succeeded Ner'zhul. He was rising high in the ranks, but an unfortunate mistake on Krog'osh's behalf halted his advancement in the ranks of the warlocks. He successfully managed to summon a dreadlord, but the spell failed and he was forced to kill it with the aid of his assistants. Gul'dan was for some reason so furious of this that he demoted Krog'osh to the lowest of positions and forced himself to work his way up again. His dedication to the fel arts was probably the only reason for his light punishment, as his assistants we're all either slain or forced to slave for the rest of their lives. Due to this unfortunate event, Krog'osh played only minor role in the First and Second Wars.
With Gul'dan dead and the Blackrock clan defeated, he struggled with the few survivors to continue their existence within Blackrock Spire. Nefarian, progeny of Deathwing, seized control of the Blackrock Orcs at this time in his insidious scheme to deafeat Ragnaros the Firelord and create the Chromatic dragonflight. Yet once again, Korg'osh's clan was shattered as Nefarian faced defeat at the hands of the Alliance. As far as Krog'osh knows, he's one of the last surviving Blackrock Orcs. With his home destryed and no where to go, lest he be slayed by both the Alliance and the New, false, Horde, Krog'osh left everything he knew. And now he stands is this unfamiliar place with demons and angels he's never seen before.
PlugY for Diablo II allows you to reset skills and stats, transfer items between characters in singleplayer, obtain all ladder runewords and do all Uberquests while offline. It is the only way to do all of the above. Please use it.
Supporting big shoulderpads and flashy armor since 2004.
Name: Stranger (Has no name, people commonly refur to him as the stranger) Race: Aracoix Gender: Male Class: Assassin Age: 130 Guild: SICK Affiliations: ASSASSINS. Deity: Fallen from grace Game world: Sanctuary Appearance: 7'1" Weapon: Kukri
Bio: The Stranger is a very accomplished Hunter and Fisherman. Not much is really known about the Stranger. What is known is that the stranger can be found at times working as a hired hunter and tracker for Thasador Tsuji and Carloseus.
Race Bio: The avian humanoids who Men have come to call Aracoix are the most remarkable. At first many thought them to be nothing more than a strange, sorcerous fusion of Man and Hawk, perhaps created by the Elves to use as slaves and soldiers. Others thought them to be old creatures previously undiscovered, who had lived in some isolated corner of the World but now roamed far through the use of the Runegates. Magi and Loremasters now believe Birdmen are creatures from another World entirely, who have journeyed to the fragments of our World by methods unknown. Civilized and noble, the Birdmen are a race barely understood by the other Children of the World. When first encountered, Humans judged the Aracoix to be primitive and savage aberrations, but time has proven these assumptions completely incorrect. Hunted without mercy and driven into hiding, the Aracoix are fierce warriors and brilliant hunters that bear little love or trust for any of the peoples of the World. Rumors tell that the Aracoix disdain all Gods and religions, and are profoundly suspicious of all Magic.
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"Pking in Softcore, is like two deaf kids yelling at each other."
-Note- I will not be playing myself due to game balancing issues
Name: Lady Delana Sex: Female Race: Cursed Human Class: Spellsword Age: 21 Affiliations: SICK Deity: Silver Game world: Sanctuary Bio:
Born to a poor unmarried aethiast couple, Grew up on a small farm less then a few miles outside of the citadel of SILVER. Her parents to poor to feed her often sent her into town to steal and beg for food to feed the family. She had always seen Strange lights and many celebrations held at the Silver Citadel and one day at the age of 6 lied to her parents and snuck into the church. She was welcomed and fed and clothed and offered shelter. Her parents having found out she had gone to a church and against their ways disowned her. She became the Foster child of The Citadel/church and spent out the next 15 years of her life learning the ways of SILVER and learning all she could from the many warriors and priest there. She excelled in combat with a 1 handed sword and was quite quick on her feet. she had sparred with the best of SICK though never actualy fought an enemy. Upon Turning 18 she had been called into Lord Silvers chambers. He had a mission for her. It seemed a small group of Aeithiest farmers had been captured and taken hostage to a thieving gang. She was to Ride out and recon the thieves camp. Upon Arriving she was spotted by the moonlight reflecting off her Silver armor. She was captured and thrown in a holding cage along with the farmers.
Coincidentally being reunited with her parents. Having seen her and her new Religious ways they Both tried to kill her. Her training kicked in and she was forced to kill both of her former parents or b killed herself. once they were dead she was taken from the cage by the thieves and whipped and tortured for killing 2 of their prisoners. after torture one of the thieves began to chain her and strip her of her clothes to rape her. She cought him off guard with an elbow and then strangeled him to death with her chains. She ran out into the wilderness into the darkness. The theives chased her. She found her way into a cave filled 4 foot high with water. She swam deeper into the cave and heard yelling behind her from the thieves "We've Got her Trapped" they shouted.
Franticly she swam deeper into the cave untill the water was to the top. She took a deep breath and submerged fully into the water. She was under water nealy 2 min looking for an advancement deeper into the cave. She found one and took it. nearly 3 min under her heart started to give out and blackness came. She franticly swam and found her way through the tunnel. she rose up outta the water and gasp for breath. She looked around. Her focus coming back to her. now in 2 feet of water. she stood up outta it and looked around. A guantlet stuck out of the water and down into the rock. She Grabed it. it looked like an ornate, jewel encrusted, right handed gauntlet. upon where it laid where many many skelitons all missing their right arms. She threw it down and was afraid. The Gauntlet called to her. She looked for an escape and there was none..The thieves had found her as she saw bubbles rising from the dark underwater tunnel. The gauntlet still caled to her and sub concsiously she grabbed it and put it on. She felt a pain as a cold pain shot up her right arm. wat was left of her clothes ripped off an a sentinent armor covered her vital organs. By now the thieves had surfaced and charged her..She thought in her mind "Sword" and her sentinent armor outstretched into a sword. Instinctivly she blocked the first theievs slash attack and killed him. then the next and the next. The thieves were dead. She sat amazed at her new found enchanted gauntlet.
The Witchblade is an intelligent, ancient, and conscious weapon. It is the offspring of the universe's opposing aspects, (the dark and the light). The Witchblade is a male aspect created to act as a balance, which must have a female as a host. When not in use, it can look like an ornate, jewel encrusted, right handed gauntlet. When wielded by an unworthy user, that person will lose their arm.
It forms a symbiotic relationship with the host, who can hear the Witchblade. When used, it expands across the body of the wielder, shredding clothes and covering the body like an armour. The amount and coverage of the armour depends on the level of the threat. For example, when facing mortals, it will usually generate less armour than when facing a demon of hell. This armor can produce extensions of itself that can form swords, other stabbing weapons, hooks, chains, shields, and wings, enabling the wielder to fly. It may also become temperamental if it chooses not to be used. When wielded, it can shoot energy blasts from the hand or sword, and whip-like grapples to attack or to climb. The Witchblade is also an excellent lock pick, and can heal wounds, even mortal ones. The Witchblade can re-animate the dead, can empathetically show the wielder scenes of great trauma, and allow the wielder to relive experiences from past wielders as dream-like experiences.
The Witchblade has its male counterpart Excalibur and therefore acts as a force of balance
She escaped through a small hole in the top of the cave using the Gauntlets Grapple. As she climb out 3 horse with men ran by. They were sent from the Citadel to find her.
Game World: Sanctuary
Description: 5' 4" , long brown hair, athletic build, simple tunic and trousers
Weapons: Metal tipped quarterstaff and daggers
I grew up in the forests of Scosglen. My father was a warrior and my mother was skilled in the art of healing, and taught me her craft at an early age. My father trained me and my three brothers in the arts of combat, myself choosing the quarterstaff and daggers.
One day my mother sent me on an errand to the far side of the forest to retrieve an herb only grown around the great oak tree Glór-an-Fháidha that was located near the greatest of the Druid Colleges, the Túr Dúlra. On my way back I saw smoke rising from the area in which our home was located. Fearing the worst - I quickened my pace only to find burning embers of what was once my home. I franticly searched for my family members but could only find the dismembered remains of my parents. After burying my parents, I gathered what belongings I could find that were still intact and set off in search of my brothers. In every village I visited no one had any information or had seen any of my brothers.
As I was walking to yet another village I could sense that I was being watched. Before I knew it I was surrounded by three very large copper colored animals. They moved with the grace of a feline and had the conformation of a canine. I readied my weapons for a fight but then I started getting a sensation of another mind touching mine. I could somehow feel the animals caution and curiosity about me. I could sense that they were intelligent and could feel no menace emanating from them. Somehow we had a telepathic link. As they approached me I tensed but they sent me a message that they were not here to harm me.
Over the days that followed our meeting they shared with me many images and I came to learn that they were in fact my missing brothers. A band of demons had come to the house shortly after I had set off on my errand and laid waste to everything in site. My brothers remember fighting them off when a bright white light flashed and they were all blasted into the forest. When they awoke they were in animal form. One by one they slowly made it back to the house, picked up my scent and followed it to me. We decided to set off in search of the demons who had done this and to see if the spell/curse that had been placed on them could be lifted.
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Smiling is infectious.
Give, expecting nothing thereof. ------------ BoD - Come have some fun! Folks will always come and go, so enjoy them while they're meant to be in your life.
Bio: Coulin is a wander whom means of surviving is by collecting bounties of criminals he may come across while passing through town to town. Most of the criminals he catches are usually filled with unbareable fear do to the illusions brought fore from the young mage. Not much else is known about Coulin expect that he might have some connections with the Cowled Wizards.
Affiliations: SICK and SLAYERS
Game World: Sanctuary
Appearance: 6'3 with a well built apperance although not as massive as brothers in arms such as Ajax. Short dark hair and dark eyes. Typical human appearance with Barbarian influences worked into tattoos and clothing/armor.
Bio: Born and raised in the Arcane Forest, which lies north of the Monastery of the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye, by a stray tribe of Barbarians originally from Mount Arreat. Taught to hunt from an early age, and specialised as a butcher until the age of 13 when I was taken away by the local warriors to be trained up. The years of hunting previous led me to use a strict offensive fighting style, with little concern for defending. In my first battle my ability to cut down large numbers of enemies quickly was discovered, but unfortunately I was severly wounded. The noble Thasador Tsuji saved me from death that day, and ever since I have been under the strict command of Carloseus, leader of SLAYERS, who has continued to train me and further my talents.
Game World: Sanctuary
Appearance: 8'2" tall, 375 lbs, MASSIVE BUILD. Barbaric Brown hair, Brown Eyes, war scars decorating the flesh of body.
Bio: Born from the peaks of Mt. Arreat. Sent into the wilderness to haul back lumber for the local workshop of Mt. Arreat. Defended Mt. Arreat as a grunt and survived serveral onslaughts from Baal's minion. After the great hero whom passed the camp, I was sent off with my father to build an encampment of our own for any lost warriors of Mt. Arreat to call home.
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Hero of the Trojan War, son of Telamon, thus called the Telamonian Ajax, also called Ajax the Greater. In the Iliad he is represented as a gigantic man, slow of thought and speech, but quick in battle and always showing courage. He led the troops of Salamis against Troy and was one of the foremost Greek warriors, fighting both Hector and Odysseus to draws.