Danger Zone!

Name: Gaven Stark

Age: 28

Race: Human

Home World: Emerido

Profession: Smuggler/Scroudrel/Outlaw



Personality: Devil-may-care, charming, witty.

Weapons: Duel SSK-7 Heavy Blaster Pistols, and a Vibroblade.

Ship: Dynamic-class freighter.

Other: Has a pet Kowakian monkey-lizard named Spike, and a K-3PO protocol droid.

Bio: Gaven was born on the planet Emerido; population 100 billion. He never knew his mother, and could have done without knowing his father, who was a low life gambler always a bet away from his big break, or so he often said. At the age of thirteen his father finally ran out of luck, and was found dead full of blaster holes in some back alley. Young Gaven was forced to the streets where he grew up quick, robbing, thieving, lying, and fighting his whole way through. He spent nearly three years small time hustling, until a Feeorin by the name of Zuk Talatheen took an interest in him. Zuk ran the majority of the poison on the planet, spice (drugs), sex, weapons, all you had to do was take your pick. Gaven worked for Zuk, doing small jobs on planet for about two years, before he was offered to run spice off world (smuggling).

In the two years that followed Gaven became quit the ace pilot, proving to be Zuk's number one smuggler, or the only one that didn't wide up dead or caught. His ties with the Feeorin ended suddenly, when the Hutts got word that Zuk had been double crossing them. The Hutts were kind enough though, offering him a great deal 'Work for us, or end up like Zuk.' Needless to say Gaven spent the next several years smuggling for the Hutts. At the age of 25 Gaven was arrested and sent to some back water planet to serve his time. A year later he escaped for good behavior.

Free of the Hutts, Gaven went into working for himself, pirating, smuggling, and doing any other dirty work the required a fast ship and a blaster.

Name: William Wayland

Age: 27

Gender: M

Race: Lycanthrope

Lycanthropic: 64


Personality: Strong silent type, passionate, sturdy willed, and thick-headed.

Short Bio: William was born in 1918 in Pittsburg, PA, to a caring homemaker mother, and a military father, who served in WW1. Growing up he lived an average life, making friends, playing sports, and falling for young love. After high school Will followed in his father’s footsteps joining the Army. He eventually was married with the intentions of starting a family, until…

Tuesday, 6 June 1945 (D-Day) Will was one of 160,000 troops to storm the beaches of Normandy. Months later his life would change forever. William and his squad had been tracking, what at the time was believed to be a band of Nazi’s, who were ransacking and butchering local villages. The squad felt like they had finally caught up with the enemy, upon entering a small country side town late one night, they were ambushed by a force they could not match.

Men as wolves, or wolves as men had attacked his team, and within minutes nearly the entire squad had been torn, ripped, a bitten through. Will and a few other soldiers had managed to flee deeper into the town, only delaying the inevitable. He was already badly injured, a bite wound on his hand that had almost taken it off. The beasts easily found the survivors held up in one the houses. The monsters devoured the three other soldiers, leaving Will last. He was surrounded, and was certain he was staring at his death, but suddenly one of the creatures stepped forward; it was giant, with black fur, and yellow piercing eyes. The beast wrapped its claw around his neck, and shoved him back against the wall, pinning him there with ease. “Do you want to live, human?” The monster growled.

William was introduced to a whole new world, an underworld, and a whole new war; a war between creatures of the night, between Werewolves and Vampires.

Class: Warrior

Weapon: A trusty, well crafted simple Longsword: weight 2 ½ lbs, length 3 ½ feet.

Personality: Sarcastic, brave, vulgar, crude, disgruntled, witty, and thickheaded.

Bio: Bartholomew was born to a ranching family. His mother passed away when he was six during a harsh winter, leaving just him and his father. As a young boy, he had dreams of knighthood, of glory, and of honor, but as the young boy grew into a young man, his dreams slowly faded into an unkind reality. Bartholomew was from a poor, farming family, and his dreams were two-hundred miles away in Tasmurona. The hard truth was that making the two day journey to the Capital would cost over a hundred shillings and leave his father to attend the ranch by himself. Bartholomew’s dreams seemed to be just that, dreams.

On his sixteenth birthday, Bartholomew’s father came to him. “Bartholomew, get over here!” Bart dropped what he was doing and rushed over to his father. “Yes, Sir?”

“I want you to meet Rlayn.” The Dwarf standing beside him stepped forward, holding out his pudgy hand to introduce himself. The young Bart shook the Dwarf’s hand and looked back to his father, slightly puzzled.

“Rlayn, here, will be relieving you of your duties.” Bartholomew still looked confused. “Well, once you’ve left for Tasmurona, who do you think will help out around here?” It slowly started to register for young Bartholomew. His father took his hand and opened it, placing a bag of coins in it. “Happy birthday, son… Go and make your dreams come true.” The two hugged.

Bartholomew traveled to Tasmurona where he enlisted in the cities guard. He studied and trained vigorously, quickly becoming the most promising recruit at his age. His only rivalry was from another young hopeful by the name of Ulrich Delvkanash: a privileged youngster who was from a wealthy family who had all honorably served their Kingdom at highly ranking positions in the military, and they had every intention of their boy following in their footsteps.

Bartholomew and Ulrich spent the next two years at odds, each trying to outshine the other. When the new law passed banning the use of magic, Ulrich was given his own unit in The Royal Hand, and Bartholomew was assigned to it. For about two years, he reluctantly served under Ulrich until one night his unit was called to track down an Elf in the outer city for use of magic.

“She’s awfully pretty. We could have some fun with her, boys!” Ulrich declared with a laugh. The unit had the girl cowering, cornered in some back alley. Bartholomew stood back, not wanting any part in what they were planning.

“Our orders are to obtain her; nothing more!” He placed hand on Ulrich’s armored shoulder.

“I’m in command here!” Ulrich yelled, pushing him away and turning his attention back to the frightened Elf. Bartholomew stormed back at Ulrich, this time gripping him by the collar of his armor and tossing him backwards where he stumbled before falling to the ground. He stepped in front of the girl and turned toward the others in the unit who were slowly backing away. “This isn’t right!”

Bartholomew glanced back at the Elf. “Get out of here… Go!” The girl took no time in running out of the alley.

Ulrich had returned to his feet and drew his sword. “I’ve been waiting for this day! It’s time to see who’s best once and for all!”

“I don’t want to fight you, Ulrich.” Bartholomew tried explaining, but Ulrich wasn’t having it, and he rushed at him. Bart drew his own sword and stepped into the attack. The two went back and forth, exchanging strikes after counters after strikes before Bartholomew purposely flashed an opening in his defense. It was risky, but if it worked, he was sure it would end the bout. Just as he hoped, Ulrich lunged for what he thought was victory, but Bartholomew shifted, pivoting back to his left, first avoiding the attack. His sword came spinning down, slamming across Ulrichs helmet, shattering it instantly and sending him crashing to the ground.

--

“You have your superior officer and three other peers saying you aided in that Elf’s escape, even attacking one of your own to do it! How am I supposed to take this?” The General asked from the other side of the bars that Bartholomew was locked behind.

“You take it as a lie! General, they were going outside their orders; I was trying to stop them from hurting her, and Ulrich drew his weapon on me!” He explained passionately.

The General shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry Bartholomew, but it’s your word against theirs. You know I’ve always liked you; God knows I’ve done everything in my power just to see you aren’t locked in here for good. Ulrich's family is extremely close with the High Chancellor, and they want action to be taken.”

Bartholomew received fifty lashes and was banished from his service. Ulrich continued, following in his family’s footsteps and was knighted, and after nearly ten years of service, he was anointed the rank of General. Meanwhile, Bartholomew’s dreams were broken after his discharge, and his life slowly spiraled downward. He was now thirty and a disgruntled drunk who had no meaning to his life.

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Welcome.

Hero File no. 0000256

Disguise: Wears a midnight blue and black colored full costume that covers most his body and face. No emblems. The suit is of normal make.

Affiliation: Heroes

Status: At large.

Power/s: Individual seems to possess superior strength, speed, reflexes, and senses. Documented incidents of lifting close to 10 tons, and running at speeds of 60-70 mph. Displays an uncanny sense of his surroundings, believed to be credited to a heightened sense of touch. Person shows elite agility, and durability.

Abilities: American-style boxing, wrestling, and judo. Gymnastics and free running/Parkour.

Weapon/s: Romulus’ Legacy Shield, a round black and gold shield. Make unknown. On all accounts has proved to be indestructible. Believed to be of mystical origin, and provides the wielder great power.

Appearance:

-Name, Alec Knight
-Age, 27
-Height, 6’1
-Weight, 215lbs
-Hair, brown
-Eyes, blue

Family:
-Birth parents unknown
-Orphaned as a baby
-Adopted father Charles Knight (deceased)
-Adopted mother Brittney Knight (deceased)

Education:
-High school diploma
-Some college

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Origins
Romulus’ Legacy Shield

The story of Romulus and Remus was a dark tale of jealousy. They were twin brothers birthed by the god of war, Mars, and a human priestess, Rhea Silvia. The two were destined to be the first kings of Rome. Romulus, however, would not share power with his brother, and demanded his father decide on only one to be king. Mars could not pick one son over the other, and told their mother to choose. He gave her a great golden shield to give to the son she chose -- a shield that was to represent something Mars himself could never possess… peace.

Rhea saw the evil in Romulus’, and knew his reign would bring destruction, but in Remus she saw that there was good, and that he would rule as such. Rhea gave the shield to Remus, and so it was done… until one treacherous night Romulus snuck into his brother’s bedroom and stole the shield, but not before beating Remus to death with it, staining the shield black with blood. The shield that was meant to protect Rome had become the weapon that destroyed its first true king…

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Origins
Gladius Nocturnis

Coming soon...

Name: Charles Emmanuel

Species/Character Type: Werewolf

Sex: Male

Age: 23

Appearance:

-Height, 5’10
-Weight, 165lbs
-Build, thin/lean
-Hair, brown, messy/unkempt, and long

Personality: Abandoned as a child Charley was forced to grow up quick, tough, and guarded. He doesn’t trust easily. Surviving alone on the streets made him distant, but sharpened his wits. There have been times where he has shown courage coming to the aid of others, which is a sign he may yet have faith in life – however, ultimately it is revenge that drives him.

Biography:

“There is so much to explain to you in so little time. The Queen’s men are at our door as I write, and there is no telling how long my magic will keep them at bay. I write in this journal in hopes that one day you will find it, and with it, answers. Your name is Charles Emmanuel, and I’m your mother, Abelena Scott. Your father…” There were several burn marks that made the next few paragraphs unreadable.

“Queen Victoria would not have it. She accused me of blackmail, and bewitching Albert and a number of other members of parliament in a plot to over throw the royal family. I had no choice but to flee…” More of the parchment was charred.

“They’re breaking through. I’m running out of time. It pains me to even write what I have done to you, but it was the only way to ensure you survive. I will die regretting what I’ve done, and you will likely hate me for it. I made you what you are. I cursed you, and I am so sorry, my son. I can’t even imagine what it will be like for you growing up with it alone…” The rest of the last few pages were burned black. There was one last line that could still be read. “ and know that your curse can be your greatest strength. I love you.”

Charles had grown up with no real recollection of his younger years. He lived full moon to full moon. It was when he was thirteen that he had found his mother’s journal, and unlocked a small piece of his past. It had been after a night of transformation, he had awoken in an unknown place, a burnt down, old shack, buried deep in the shadows of the slums in some back alley. Amidst the rubble, he found the charred leather bound book. The journal had magical properties, for it spoke to him – it read itself. The words echoed off the pages and into his mind like some distant voice whispering them in his ear.

The pages haven’t spoken to him since, but he remembered what the voice had read. He filled in the missing parts with countless possibilities, and finally came up with what he think had happened. His father was murdered by someone within the Queen’s court. His mother sought justice and the Queen had her silenced. Charles was sure of it, and he’s been plotting his revenge ever since.

Special Abilities/Skills: Thieving, lock-picking, and fighting. He has mastered his werewolf form.

Objects of Significance: A burnt leather bound journal.

Character Name: Bfal ta 'l-Wlma (Boy of the Water)

Alias: Boyd Waters

Race: Human

Physical Description: Standing at a height of 5’10 and weighing in at 165 lbs, Boyd was nearly tattooed from neck to toe. He had a steady, piercing emerald green gaze, and black shoulder length hair that was normally kept behind a dark red dingy bandanna. His attire typically consisted of a bistre colored Highwayman’s coat over a grimy, off-white, open v-cut tunic, and dark brown breeches, which bottoms tucked into knee high black boots. Around his waist an indigo hued sash was tied to take the weight of his dagger and duel flintlock pistols. He wore a wide leather built with a brass buckle that was strapped loose and sheathed his cutlass.


Character Bio: “My fondest of memories are becoming more like distant dreams, for as I grow more indifferent they become harder to recall. They only come to me as I sleep – when I am at my most peaceful. I write in you now, Journal, for I have just awakened from such a memory, and I fear if I do not take it down now, I may lose it forever. I will start from the beginning.

From what I was told, I washed ashore as a toddler on the island of Tteżor. I couldn’t have been any older than three. The Aqualyts had found me. They saved me, and accepted me as one of their own. They named me Bfal ta 'l-Wlma. I was raised by a family of them, a mother and father of one, and her name was Ffjura.

It’s Ffjura, who comes to me as I sleep – reminds me of my innocence. She was the only love I ever knew. I still wear the Bifs ta 'l-Oċean around my neck she gave me to make the great swim. She and I would swim far out past the rocks and coral where we would play and laugh for hours. It was the best times of my life.”

The next several pages are water damaged and unreadable…

“Even with the Bifs ta 'l-Oċean I couldn’t make the journey. I was eight years old, and but human – not built for such a swim. I lost them. I lost Ffjura, and the sea took me once more.

The sound of hardy laughter and cursing woke me the following day. I was on the ship the Dirty Sea Dog, a pirate ship bound for the city of Jewelspar on the island of Wnjam. Captain James Every, and his men had found me floating along to current. They took me in, and more or less took care of me…”

More water damage…

- Entries from Boyd Waters’ Journal

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Magical/Special Items or Relics: Bifs ta 'l-Oċean, means Breath of the Ocean. It’s a magical shellfish that lives in a small spiraling shell. They are extremely rare, but have been found before washed ashore. They can be used to breathe under water. Boyd wore his on a simple string tied around his neck.

Occupation: Pirate, Scoundrel, Thief, and Captain of Her Sanzunetta tal-Saħar (Her Song of the Sea).

Skills: Swordplay, pistoleer, sailor, swagger, devilish charm, and rugged good looks.