The Garden of Angels OOC [closed]

--

In the world, there are many fables and truths beyond anyone's imagination. Magic, and lore alike. But perhaps the greatest and most untouchable of these tales is the one of the Angel's Garden in the sky. A floating isle of smooth short grasses and shrubs, and a large tree who's trunk bears the splitting to invite whoever sees it inside of its hollow home. It is told to children as being the place where angels come to earth and leave back to heaven again. A place sacred, and unscathed by mankind or evil. It is fabled that whoever visits this island, will always be safe while they are there. Some fables are different, saying that those who go there gain immortality, or the gifts of an angel if they are heard by the winged blessings...


It began in the dead of night. All who lived near the southern peninsula of Atirae saw it. I felt the haste of my chase deep in my soul. The cries and torches of a group of five bounty hunters hot on my trail. Arrows whipped through the forest and zipped past my head. I couldn't escape in my usual stealthy manner, no. Wrapped tight in my arms was my son, a year and a half old when I was eighteen. My false love and its mistake, though my child would never be a mistake in my eyes. Only the act, the foolishness. I had once taken this golden gift for granted, but his innocence surprised me, I had never seen something so pure. My little Salvatore. It means... Savior.

I reached the edge of the peninsula, and there in the earth stood a wide open space, a clearing where no grass grew, only dust and sand collected. I reached into my left pocket, and drew out one fine crystal shaped like a heptagram. And with the flick of my wrist, I tossed it into the sand. The hunters were staggered as the earth began to shake, and the sand began to glow.

Bursting from its dusty mound, rose a giant tower of white crystal that reached for the sky, rigid; a rock ladder for the Garden of Angels. Without waiting for the rock tower to completely stop, I jumped at it. One hand gripped a crevice and I swung my child around, the strap tied around his blanket and casing tight and letting him hang on my back. He cried louder and louder.

"Forgive me my dearest Salvatore, I am a demon of a mother, and you deserve the angels." I whispered, and with it said, I began to climb. I swung myself up, gripping and climbing, the hunters below. The island was almost a mile in the sky, impossible to reach otherwise. The higher I got up, the more the tower began to quake. I feared it would collapse, or it would fall back into the sand. Where would I be then, other than hopefully dead? But finally, I was there.

I saw the rich black earth hanging in the sky, the lace-like roots dangling from it here and there. While on the ground, looking up, the place looked rather tiny. But here, it was vast. Ten acres, perhaps, which was massive considering it looked only to be like one from the ground. A mirage perhaps. And off center was one tree; while on the ground it looked normal. But here in the clouds, the tree was as thick as a home, with a tiny cavern beheld at its roots where one could slip inside of it. The limbs of this great tree bore every tree-born fruit, and vines dangled and tangled there beholding even more. Around the base of the tree were beds of loose white down feathers; looking as the softest bed one could dream of laying on. Flowers and grass rich and glorious grew all about. It was absolutely beautiful. There was even the quiet humming sing-song of angels playing ominously from the air itself.

I swung my son up onto the edge, holding on for dear life to the crystal tower as Salvatore cried and rolled onto the earth. I winced; how horrible to hurt my own son... I wanted to join him, but first... I gripped his straps and unsnapped them, and the blankets and all loosened around him, leaving him only wrapped gently in his father's old white tunic. I smiled, stroking his cheek. Told him I loved him...

And an angel came. Swooped down like a ray of sunlight. Pitch white, and all I saw beyond that magnificent white aura were eyes like the ocean itself. Sounds broke into my ears like melodies to usher tears from one's eyes. But his words entered my mind. Crisp. Straightforward.


And it happened. A sharp blast, the tower shattered. A blinding light. My eyes burned, teared, and all I saw was that white angel, even when I closed my eyes. I grabbed my eyes as I fell, dug my fingers into the sockets, rubbed them and pushed at them. Why was there no color, no falling world? Only the wind dazzled my senses.

I cried, tears ripped up from my face into the sky.

And then my back crashed into the sand, the burst of sand upward from me as if I had fallen into the ocean. Pain rippled through my entirety, and I fell asleep...

When I had woke again, I was blind. I saw only white, a brilliant white and my hazel eyes though still hazel and pure, were milky at the pupil. The bounty hunters were gone, or dead. And I had a crystal lodged in my throat, shaped like a heptagram and the size overall of a good sized coin. I wrapped my scarf around the wound, the crystal only sticking out from the skin about a centimeter. I would hide it, for I knew immediately what it was. It was my second coming, my second chance to reach my son. But I needed to do two things first.

I needed to eliminate my past, and I needed to find someone, or some group of people, who could guide me back here, and help me find my son again...


A woman strides into the center of the popular trade town of Gravith, and proclaims she is the Lightning Rogue. She boasts of a fable to be lived for those brave and strong enough to live it. She beckons for a group of guardians to aid her, with the prize being three. A thousand gold coins per head that joins, a chance to live and see themselves the Angels' Garden, and the bounty of her head.

Will you join her?



Rules:
-You obey me, I am the GM: Meaning I have the right to kill you if you misbehave.
-Obey the FOG rules of length and grammar.
-Have fun, no flaming.
-If you have any questions or complaints, PM me personally and I will see about handling them to the best of my abilities.
-No perfect characters, Mary Sues or Gary Sues. Or Emo Sues... XD
-If you want to inject anything into the storyline of your own, PM me about it and get my permission.
-Don't kill other characters without their permission.
-All characters must have weaknesses, and flaws. There is no room to develop if we start out perfectly.
-I reserve the powerful right to kick who I please.


Sidenotes and Glossary:
-will be filled as we progress in the story-

Characters:

Fulmine
-
Aesalon
-
Laeriel
-
Michael
-
Harrison

CLOSED.

Name: Fulmine (Full-me-nay) "Fuli" (Fooly) Tuono
Age: 24
Gender: female
Race: Human
Class: Mage (used to be a Red Mage specializing in Thunder magic before she became handicapped by her blindness).

Appearance:

-At her throat is embedded a heptagram shaped white crystal (star with a few more points)
Attire:
-burgundy top that criss-crosses her chest and ties behind her neck like a halter-top
-dark brown breeches that reach to her knees.
-silver tiny chain-link belt wrapping around her waist.
-charcoal gray jacket that is quarter-length down the arm and falls almost to the ankles, with a silver rose-shaped clip in the front that pulls it together just beneath the breasts.
-black leather boots, flat on the bottom and made for long distance travel. Slightly scuffed, as they look lightly worn.
-silver chain around the neck that holds a light blue stone at the center.
-long dark red scarf that fades orange and yellow at the ends, where it is tattered and torn; wrapped around the neck.
-black silk blindfold tied around her eyes.
-beige fingerless gloves


Weapons:
-Lightning Staff: A long dark mineral staff with many intricate designs in it, and a sprouting sharp upper head piece that beholds a blue crystal
-2 Daggers
Possessions:
-3 Salves
-Bandages
-a handful of coins

Brief Summary of your Character: Fulmine was once wild and immature, dark and filled with her mischievous ways. But in her young ways, she found herself falling in a fifteen minute romance with a stranger far older and more deadly than she, and she conceived her child Salvatore Tuono. Though it took her time to mature, when death was nipping at her heels, she thought of the one fable her mother had told her time and time again as she was a child; the tale of the Garden of Angels. There she went, to hide her son from her hunters and past. And when it happened, she lost her sight and hunters, and with time afterward she obliterated her past.
-
Years passed, and she's finally prepared enough, all she needs now are travelers by her side. She's grown cool, antisocial, and mature beyond thought. Her humor is diminished though her sarcasm is fully bloomed. Deeper she holds a kindness, one she will hold onto tightly for those who earn it, and of course her son for whom she prays is well.

Name: T’risril Auvry'lyl
Age: 231
Gender: Male
Race: Drow
Class: Assassin

Appearance: T’risril at six feet 5 inches is rather lofty and his straight posture only serves to enhance the image. Long and lean muscle covers his stretched out frame, dense in nature his musculature makes him look as if he is carved from stone. His dark ebony skin is covered in scar tissue, some the work of blades others still the work of whip and beast's claws. Despite his two centuries of life his black skin remains smooth and unwrinkled. It would seem the skin of child if not for the scars it bears. A harsh planed face that is all high cheek bones and strong jaws is highlighted by his eyes. Unlike his dark elf brethren T’risril's eyes bear not crimson hue but a brilliant emerald. Flecked across the irises are golden specks that catch the light making his eyes glow like the gem whose hue they share. Shoulder length hair of purest silver worn loose and free frames his harsh planed face. Further highlighting his face is a long and massive scar running at a 45 degree angle across it, covering most of his face it lends him an aura of malevolence and unnerves some he meets.
Attire:

- Black cotton kimono
- White cotton Nagajuban ( kimono shaped robe worn under the Kimono)
-Black cotton Haori ( Hip length Kimono like jacket worn on top of the kimono)
-Hakama ( resembles a wide pair of trousers)
-Obi ( sash like bet)
- Reinforced Geta ( wooden clog like sandals)
- Black thick socks


Weapons:
Shadow and Death- Twin blades they are a product of T’risri's own hand. Forged to ensure a successful and lethal first strike they lack any sort concession to beauty. Their hilts are 37 cm long wrapped in raw black silk cord with no hilt guard. The blades are 92 cm and 3 cm wide, straight bladed they bear only one cutting edge and the matte finish of the blade lends the steel a darkened look.

Silencer: A dagger T’risris found in a ruin when chasing a mark it is without a doubt dagger meant for one purpose. To slay quietly and quickly. With a whisper thin blade yet bearing an edge bold enough to slice through bone and muscle to the heart beneath it shares the same matte finish on the steel as his own custom made blade. Straight of blade their hilts bear gold wire wrapping.
Possessions:
Medical Supplies
Food and Water
Map of the known lands.
Journal
Writ of Death signed in blood by Thirteen Speakers
A coin purse holding many gold and silver coins
Assorted Cooper Lock-picks
Brown Leather pack

Brief Summary of your Character:

T’risril Auvry'lyl was once a member of sect of assassins that served Loth directly. In the matriarchal society of the Drow it was odd to see a male in the Church. But his peerless skills in the twin sword style favored among the Drow and his drive to be more then just another male saw him rise. Serving Loth directly the sect was responsible for hunting down those foolish Clerics and renegades that displeased the church of Loth.

It was a job he did not so much relish as did well., In Drow society one did well not to displease the Church of Loth and T’risril Auvry'lyl was no exception to the rule. Born the secondboy of his house he like every other male knew that only skill and hard work would keep them from a sacrifice table.

And so life went on for this assassin, trained in the arts of shadow and death He hunted in the Underdark and beyond. No quarry escaped his reach, no one ever knew of his existence till their life blood stained his blades. But a single event would see him leave his people.

Sent after his own Father who dared to suggest reforms in Drow society T’risril began to see the injustice of the society he killed for. And so he left but life is never that simple. One did not just leave Loth behind. And so in a turn of events he became the prey. For 12 years he ran from his hunters killing them whenever the chance arose. And in time realized no matter how far he ran the Church of Loth would be on his heels. So returning to his birthplace the Drow held the Thirteen speakers of Order of Shadows hostage eventually making them sign in blood a Writ of Death. Which made him officially dead as far as the Drow race were concerned .

With that in hand he disappeared into the shadows he was the master of. Wandering the lands as a free lance assassin his skills already impressive sharpen to the point were amongst the criminal underworld his name is spoken in hushed tones. Employers seek him out and those who know their future marks hire extra security.

Now finding himself in the town of Gravith after another job done He looks forward to replenishing his supplies and enjoying a fine meal before getting some sleep in.

Name: Aesalon D'Ariadae / AKA: Falcon / AKA: The Shadowsun / AKA: The Wandering Lord / AKA: The Pauper Prince

Age: 44

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Class: Warrior / Knight

Appearance: The Falcon stands an imposing 6 ft. 6 in. and weighs in at a lean 220. He has brown, close cropped hair and dark brown eyes. His face shows the wrinkles of being in the sun for most of the last 25 years of his life. He bears the 'Black Sun' starburst tatoo of house D'Ariadae on the back of his neck and has a 2 inch long-healed scar just below his right eye.

Attire:
-Leather-over-Chain armor: Battered and nicked hauberk, the leather appears that it may once have been dyed red, but has been punctured and stitched so many times that would merely be a guess.
-Greaves: A mismatched set of protection for Aesalon's arms and legs. His left side leg and arm (his sword arm) both are covered by leather bands, bearing black and red sigils of unknown origin. His right leg is covered by a black steel greave that once belonged to a Havareeshi Nomad, and his right arm is covered in an elvish, rune-enlaid, single piece buckler & greave.
-Cloak: was once red, now appears to be a mottled brown - the cloak is still water-resistant, but is thin enough that it provides little warmth.
-Dwarven Skullcap: A small fitted piece of steel, this covers from the forehead back to the base of the neck, and reaches just behind the ears on each side. This is completely covered by the havareesh.
-Havareesh: The face covering that the Havareeshi Nomads are named for, consisting of a 6 foot strip of linen that is wound to cover the head and face, without restricting the warrior's vision.

Weapons:
- Tuath D'Ariadae: The Blade of the Dark Sun. This is a longsword in design, the blade is rumored to have been magic, but besides it keeping a sharp edge though even the sharpest of engagements, Aesalon has seen no sign of such since it came to him after his father's death.
-Bow and Hatchet: Both of these weapons are average and non-descript, and in most cases are used for utility rather than combat.

Possessions: Other than his armor and weapons, Aesalon has almost nothing to his name. A few silver coins left over from a short stint protecting a merchant caravan coming in to Gravith and a lock of hair that belonged to his sister.

Brief Summary of your Character: The last heir of a lost house, Aesalon has spent his last 30 years wandering the continents in search of a way to recover the D'Ariadae lands that his father had taken from him. While his knighthood was never officially bestowed upon him, the Falcon has lived his entire life by the code he was training under. He has spent periods of time with both the dwarves battling the creatures of the underdark and with the Havarishi fighting against the bandit lords (Or 'those who do not cover their faces' to the Havareesh.)

Both accepted. Now, a few more and we can begin.

Whoa, I totally missed this OOC opening up. I'll edit this post with my character sheet once I finish it. I'm going to work on it right...NOW! *dashes off to brainstorm*

EDIT: Here's my character sheet!

Name: Laeriel Gwalithe
Age: 150
Gender: Female
Race: Woodland Elf
Class: Hunter/Healer of Herb Lore

Appearance: Laeriel stands at a solid 5’10” with a lithe, slender physique and carries herself with a quiet dignity, much like the others of her forest-dwelling race. Her straight, raven-black hair hangs past her shoulders, and long bangs fall artfully across her eyes, which are storm gray with flecks of blue. Her facial features are sharp and angular, yet they contain a certain air of delicacy, including arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, full lips, and pointed ears. Her complexion is paler than most humans but slightly tanner than most elf women, given the amount of time she has spent outdoors traveling.

Attire:
-Thin gray undershirt made of a lightweight, breathable material, over which she wears a hardened leather vest that protects her chest and torso
-Short-sleeve forest green overtunic that dips in a small V at the neckline and ties up with thin leather strands
-Archery glove that protects the first three fingers of her right hand so she can draw her bow
-Hardened leather armguard that protects her left forearm
-Dark brown leggings that fit close to her legs and allow for ease of movement
-Worn brown leather boots that come up to her knees
-Wool gray cloak with a hood that fastens under her throat with a silver, star-shaped brooch

Weapons:
-Laeriel’s primary weapon is a lightweight longbow made out of dark brown, treated oak wood. She carries a hardened leather quiver with swan-fletched arrows on her back.
-If the situation forces her into close combat, Laeriel resorts to a hand-and-a-half sword of elven craftsmanship. The blade has a slight curve and has swirling, leaf-like patterns etched along the sides.
-As an element of surprise, Laeriel keeps a single throwing dagger with a 6-inch blade tucked in a sheath on the inside of her right boot, next to her calf.

Possessions:
-Leather satchel of medical herbs, bandages, and first aid supplies
-Small pouch of coins
-Food and water
-Map
-Bedroll
-Spare change of clothes

Brief Summary of your Character:
Laeriel grew up as the only daughter of the ruler of a small clan of woodland elves. However, rumors of a hostile, roving band of dark elves in the region kept the clan on edge, since they knew they lacked the numbers to repel them in case of an attack. Laeriel’s parents betrothed her to the young son of a neighboring woodland elf clan from an early age so that the two clans would become allies through marriage. Laeriel and her betrothed alternated spending winters as the honored guests of each other’s clans as they grew up so they could grow accustomed to each other and ease the transition into an arranged marriage. She showed a natural talent for healing with herbs and so studied herblore under her clan’s best healers. She also underwent training in archery, but it was mainly for ceremonial purposes and not for actually participating in battle. The two developed a strong friendship and gentle fondness for each other, but their relationship lacked the deep, fiery passion of romantic love that most elf women sought to attain in their matebonds.

Laeriel grew to adulthood, but a month before her wedding, the raiding band of dark elves attacked the stronghold of her betrothed’s clan. The warriors of both clans rallied to repel the attack and, after a grueling battle, they managed to drive away the dark elves. However, the victory was not without high cost. The woodland elves lost many brave warriors, including Laeriel’s betrothed. After going through the specified amount of time of grief and funeral rites, Laeriel decided to leave her clan and find her own purpose and not one assigned to her by parents or ruling authorities. After commissioning a sword and dagger from her clan’s smithy, she took up her bow and quickly learned on the road to adapt her archery training for hunting and self-defense, lest she die at the hands of ferocious monsters or hostile mercenaries. She made a living by doing odd jobs or taking on village requests to eliminate troublesome bandits or monsters. Decades of travel drastically changed her personality as well. She is a quiet, reserved individual, proud of her heritage as a woodland elf and bearing much wisdom of the known world that spans over a century. She sees most humans as petty and self-centered, but she is willing to open up to certain individuals and share her knowledge with people that she deems trustworthy. She holds a severe distrust and grudge toward dark elves for taking her betrothed’s life, but in a way she also feels like she owes them in some odd way for saving her from a loveless marriage. In recent years, she has entertained the notion of finding a mate for love instead of simply political interest, but she secretly fears that she is too stuck in her ways for any male elf to see her as a suitable partner.

Eventually Laeriel’s travels brought her to the well-known trade town of Gwalith to seek out a new job. After restocking her supplies, she decided to head to the nearest inn to enjoy a hot supper and book a room, unaware that her next job would be the most unexpected and dangerous of her life.

Also accepted. I'd say about one or two more folks, and we'll get this thing on the road. If no takers come by tomorrow evening/night, then I'll go on and throw this into full swing.

Name: Michael Carpenter
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Class: Paladin

Appearance:


Attire:
*Full Plate Armor
*Full Helm
*Traveler’s Outfit
*White Silk Cloak
*Gold Holy Symbol Necklace (Uriel’s Signet)


Weapons:
*Fidelacchius – A broad sword with a holy relic incorporated into the sword’s metalwork. Only those that gain the favor of Uriel, the god of the Sun, Light, Strength, and Healing, can wield the sword’s true power. Those whose hearts are filled with malice or intend to use the sword for evil will have the sword’s holy wrath turned against them.
*Round Shield
*Dagger

Possessions:
*Backpack
*Bedroll
*Trail Rations
*Waterskin
*Flint and Steel
*Torch
*Healer’s Kit
*Map
*Compass
*Coin Purse

Brief Summary of your Character:
Michael’s life revolves around being the hand of Uriel, carrying his will to protect the innocent and purge the land of evil. He is a devoutly faithful man, praying frequently. He sometimes gets visions from angels telling him what he is to do or where he is needed, but sometimes this guidance is a subtle skewing of chance ensuring Michael is at the right place at the right time that his aid is needed.

The Tenets of Uriel is the code that governs his actions, an oath he has vowed to follow without question. These tenets are as follows:
*A Paladin may never willfully commit an Evil act.
*A Paladin cannot associate with any character that persistently commits acts which would cause the Paladin himself to Fall - notably Evil creatures.
*A Paladin must remain truthful and forthright at all times.
*A Paladin must give fair warning and due quarter to enemies.
*A Paladin must do all within his power to protect the innocent, weak, and downtrodden.

Approved dear. I'll throw you up top, and open this up tomorrow. I hope everyone's ready to begin!

I'm very excited to begin! I've role-played with most of the people here, so I think we've got a great group so far ^_^

A very good group I agree. I'm excited to see how wonderfully this goes!

Are you willing to have another player? If so, I'll throw up a CS tomorrow, if not, that's fine too.

sure hop in

I've been thinking ( stop the presses) We got a Drow assassin, a wood elf with a personal grudge against Drow, and to boot a Paladin. I can see trouble on the horizon.

Character conflict makes for a good side story or two lol!

Conflict indeed. An assassin is Chaotic Evil and a Paladin is Lawful Good. If this was D&D these two would be trying to kill each other...Although it does give me ideas for character development and my first few posts.

I suppose there's no harm in shamelessly admitting to including that little grudge in Laeriel's character to allow for a little character conflict . I've found through another role-play that including some conflict, personal or otherwise, makes for great character development fodder down the road.

Hisoka wrote:Conflict indeed. An assassin is Chaotic Evil and a Paladin is Lawful Good. If this was D&D these two would be trying to kill each other...Although it does give me ideas for character development and my first few posts.

If you want to work anything out in the future, be it side plot or conflict, send me a PM. I'll enjoy working something out with you.

*A Paladin must give fair warning and due quarter to enemies.

I'm sure your drow will be taking advantage of that tenet.

Giving an assassin warning is like handing Master Chief the codes to the nukes it will end badly for you.

But I think I got a better plan A up my sleeve, we'll relegate that to plan B for now.

And I got a good plan A for that wood elf of yours as well SilvanArrow.

H,mmm...which reminds me of something I also got planned for my intro post.

Hisoka wrote:Giving an assassin warning is like handing Master Chief the codes to the nukes it will end badly for you.

*Shrugs*

It's part of his code, he will have no choice but to give the assassin fair warning regardless of the disadvantage it puts him at. Though divine favor (aka convenient coincidence) has a way of tilting the scales to help compensate for that. Like I said, I look forward to planning encounters between our characters with you.

Just so you know, my character may have a very powerful blade to vanquish the wicked, but I'm not going to make him infallible. In other words, you can rest assured that I will not play him as though he could take on your character with little effort. I prefer such exchanges to be a give and take while making sure that no character really comes out too far ahead of the other. I am more than willing to negotiate with potential outcomes and am not afraid to have my character lose (as long as he survives so I can continue playing.)

Rest assured I have a plan A that will knock your socks off...actual you might see it coming. But it will be epic as I can make it nonetheless, and no it will not involve a convent dagger in the back. I want epic not predictable and so my assassin will be epic. At least to the best of my abilities and of course conforming to the rules needless to say.

I do so enjoy epic plans. I'm up for pretty much anything with my character as long as it doesn't involve her getting killed off or dismembered, so plan away to your heart's content, Hisoka.

IC is up!

Quaker, you can still join, I doubt we'll have progressed too far if you're planning on having your sheet up today; you should be able to do that and post an intro by tonight too :3

Name: Harrison “Harry” Bestender
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Class: Aspiring Swordsman

Appearance:

Spoiler:

Attire:
-Black vest
-Black pants
-elbow pads
-black fingerless gloves
-A necklace, hidden from view, with a single eye being grabbed by a fist.


Weapons:
-Two longswords, one having a scabbard on his hip, the other having a holster on his backpack.
Possessions:
-Money
-Black backpack
-Healing kit
-Bedroll
-Emergency rations
-Flint
-Canteen

Brief Summary of your Character:
Harrison is not a kid that had his family killed in some freak raid, or was born an orphan forced to survive on his own. His family, Mr and Mrs. Bestender lived within the town of Gravith. Mr. Bestender being a popular blacksmith, and Mrs. Bestender being a well known tailor. Harry was born, and raised up on these skills, but found them to be too tame for his own liking.

Harry was always that kid that if something included an adventure, or some sort of excitement, he was there. It wasn’t so much that he was always looking for trouble, but more or less trying to get away from the boredom of his everyday life. When he was about eighteen years old, a travelling group of swordsmen and warriors arrived in town. For free room and food, they agreed to put on a show for everyone in the town. Harry was right up there, and he was absolutely amazed at how fluid the swordsman were with their weapons of choice. You could say, that is where he got hooked on being a swordsman.

After many beggings, pleadings, and the occasional temper tantrum, Mr. Bestender crafted Harry his own sword. For the past nine years, Harry has been teaching himself how to fight with his home-crafted weapon. While there were many swordsmen around to teach him how to weild such a weapon, he wanted to be able to say that everything he learned, and was able to do, was purely through his own work and determination.

Harry is 27 now, and although his skills with the sword are not absolutely fantastic, they are definitely formidable. He spends every waking moment of spare time he has practicing, making up new moves, and perfecting them. Due to this, his fighting style has added an unpredictable approach to it. He has learned moves that no one else would have even thought of, which is the main reason he has been so successful in most of his duels that he has entered in.

Bored with his life now, and not willing to enter the blacksmith or tailoring trade, he has heard of a woman spouting adventure in the townsquare. With a simply goodbye to his parents, and a grab of a secondary sword as a just in case measure, he gathered his things and set off. He wants to be able to put his skills to the test, and hopefully bring some excitement to his otherwise dull life.

Good, now go post because after Loki, I'll be posting. XD

By the way; Hisoka, there's going to be character conflict between your character and everyone lol. Loki is a paladin, and now you've gone and called my character a bad mommy! XD

Tis only the truth Milady,and as they say the truth can cut deeper then even the finest sword. As for the paladin I am already prepared for that.

Name: Vespa the Wicked
Age: Unknown


Second Image

Who is the wanna be drow.

I'm curious about this new character as well...