Wild's Pack of Hunters

[Wild Dog]

Well hey,

So I had an idea. Why don't I post my ch. essays here, then I could change them as I please. What an idea huh? See, I need to get my ch.s up, Rp with them, then have all these ideas for them. So I will be posting them here. Great idea, huh? -looks- what, it is not original. You didn't steal my idea when I didn't think about it? Well, no matter. Here they are, my pack.

Plus, this gives everybody who is rping with me access to my ch.s\

Who Knows What More, evil, Hunters I have enlisted. Many, many more will follow.

[Wild Dog]

Note: Thanks to Phrost, who gave me this wonderful idea. May the winds blow in your favor and may your wine never spoil.





Name: Gan Ning

Age: 51 Though, because he is half elf, he looks like he is 20

Race: Hybrid of elf and human

Description: Please look at picture. I hate writing the descriptions. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words.


He stands at an impressive six feet one. Well, it might have been impressive, if his hair wasn't three inches up. Still, he is taller then some of the shorebound. Though, when he walks, it is with pride and arrogance. He strolls, with back straight up, feeling as though he were seven feet tall. He is strongly muscled, having worked on ships for much of his life. Scattered throughout his lower body and chest, are numerous tattoos. Dragons and sea serpent battle on his skin. Nobody knows why he had them done like that. His crew believe that he battled them and survived.

His face has a distinct Asian cast to it. His eyes have a jolly cast to them. His hair is wild, and usually up. It is held in place by a headband. A necklace usually adorns his neck. A long lost lover gave him that. He wore it ever since. Two dragons, whose mouths are open, spewing fire. The bells along his waist has attracted much interest. He wears them as a symbol of pride. When he moves, those bells clang together. He wears them to show the world that he doesn't have to be quiet. His enemies have often come to dread those bells.

The pirate uses a long, fat sword. He was given it by a very gifted blacksmith. Scimitar would be a better word. It is about three feet long and has a jagged edge on it. Even though it looks heavy, it is remarkable light weight. Because this is true, he can whip that thing around quite fast. Though, it would bend when striking something substantial, so he doesn't strike at stone. He is in search for a elven blade.

Gan Ning, does not understand what magic is. He believes it is spell and voodoo magic. Because of this, he has no idea if he can use magic.

He wears red and gold pants. Highly decorated. Tall boots, up to his knees, give him traction in the wet, slippery wood decking. He does, occasionally , wear a shirt, but that is when spit freezes two feet from you after you spit. Otherwise, he goes in his skin. Even on land. At sea, he roughs it out with a smile on his face.

Being a somewhat of an elf, his features were fair and smooth. His eyes are sharper then other, humans. His sense of touch also heightened, but he doesn't mention that. He doesn't want people asking questions.


Dragon's Roar: Highly Asian. 8 sails make for a lot of replacements, which is why the Roar has them. The name was given to the ship when the huge crossbows on the ship twang. When all five of them shoot, it sounds a lot like a dragon's roar. For a ship that large, a mighty crew was needed. About fifty of them. Which is, conveniently, how many he has. All of them humans. They were all chosen for their bravery at sea.

Personality: Gan Ning is a jolly, go-lucky type of character. He also has a sense of humor, which carries itself over to the crew. The captain usually gets in trouble for his sarcastic words. Deep down though, he is serious. Sometimes. When the going gets tough, he usually works things out. But, that seldom happens. He believes that he is invincible. Such arrogance is always rewarded in the end. Because his arrogance can't cover one fact up, he is good.

In Gan Ning's mind a gentleman pirate is a contradiction of terms. He is definitely a pirate, so he has no manners what so ever. When at the dinner table, he rudely eats, cramming his food into his mouths. He also has a weakness for deflating gentlemanly people. He also has a certain disregard for the rules. They were made by the shorebound, for the shorebound. As free as the sea, many people would say. That would certainly be true.

Because of his long years as a sea-going man, he has a swagger about him. A dashing, rouge sort of stance. Many ladies find him attractive and several believe that he is coming back to marry them. Course, he doesn't. That would just slow him down. This has caused many incidents. Some say he had a girlfriend, long time ago. Then a tragity accured, and she died. Gan promised never to marry again. Or so the story goes.

Being somewhat of an elf, he has a healthy respect for the natural world. Course, a rough upbringing taught him to eat meat. He won't drink and enjoy it.

He really in confused why his parents deserted him. Some would say that he would lie awake at night, cursing his parents. He rarely sleeps, to the crew. He always if the first one up. Some times, he would cook breakfast for his crew. Course, he is a really bad cook.

Him and the crew, they have a bond. Gan Ning, he is kind to them and isn't a harsh master. Course, the swearing and cursing a captain would inflict on his crew still happened, but it was full of sarcasm and joy. The crew, in return, joked around with him, slapped him on the back, and played jokes on him. In battle, however, he assumes complete control.

He never holds a grudge. Except for Jack Hawke. Gan Ning hates that man with a passion that would embarrass other people. Since Jack seemed to hate him back, they would always sail in different directions. the reason for that. Well, it started when.......no, I can't tell you now.

He is a pirate though. He preys on weak ships, plunders them, and takes captives. he has no mercy against those who hurt him.
History:
His life can only be described as hard.

He has no idea who his father, the elf, was but his mother was known to him. She was a baker, living in Term. Who place gave modest pay, but not enough to have any more children. Because of her, much earlier profession, she had no idea that Gan Ning was anything but human. That changed, after a couple of years. Before that, though, she loved him dearly. The baby would get attention every second of his young life. Meanwhile, the mother grew poorer and poorer. Then came the awful truth.

While playing one day, young Ning happened to brush back his hair. Now, that hardly seems to be an issue, but his mother noticed something, the ever so faint tapering of his ears. Appalled, she began to look closely at Ning. His figure was slim, not the healthy fat of regular boy. His eyes, they seemed almost too intelligent for a human. In shock, the mother ran into her room. Sobbing, she went over her options. She could never keep the boy. A half elf grew so much ridicule that her business and her life would be ruined. She loved the boy to much to kill the child. The mere though of that sent another bout of tears.

The only other option was to hide him. But where. She decided to hide him for a while, then find a profession that would keep him away from others. She moved the baby, now three years old, into a hidden compartment under the stairs. For 9 years, he hid under there. Not knowing why, he came up with many, colorful stories why. One of his being that he was a rider, somehow. The king was looking for him, on order to kill him, but his mother hid him. Gan Ning couldn't figure out where the dragon was.

Finally, when Gan became 12, his mother told him of his heritage. Shocked, Gan ran from his mother, cursing her. Weeping, the young one slept in the alley. That was the last time she saw him. For many months, the child lived off of the city. Stealing food one day. Trash picking another. He also became a really good pickpocheter. One day, he was busy with his rounds, when he stumbled along a gang in an alley. The kid couldn't defend himself against the guys, so he ran. Right into a wall. Shaking his head, he looked up, to discover the "wall" was a man. The man drew his sword, and ordered the thugs to apologize to the boy. being thugs, they refused and came screaming at them. The man, killed them all.

With blood dripping form his sword, he turned on Gan Ning. "Boy, you sure have guts coming here. are you okay?" No answer, so the man continued, "here, let me take you to your mother. Where does she live." Again no answer. Judging by his clothes, the man took the boy to an inn, sat him down, and gave him food to eat. Why he was enjoying a hot supper, Gan spilled out his story. The man turned out to be Captain Brand, a pirate. He cared not Gan Ning's heritage, but was interested in the boy. After some debate, Ning agreed to be a deckhand on Brands ship. There, miles away from the city, out on open water, he would be safe. If his mother knew of his job, she would be happy for him. Pirates weren't really smart, and they wouldn't know about his heritage.

Nine years passed. During that time. Gan Ning became an excellent swordsman, a gifted sea man. And most importantly, a leader. Finally, after many long years, Brand saw that Gan Ning need to head out. Find his own life. After dumping him off at a dock, he left him. Gan Ning did not hesitate in trying to live his life. He knew who he wanted to be. A pirate. So he started to look for a ship. He found one, called the Retribution. But another pirate was looking at her too. So began the fight that lasted until this day. Words were thrown at each other. In the end, they almost drew swords, when a lady walked by. They made a deal. First one to win her over got the ship. Then came the battle for the lady. Both fell in love with her, but Gan was able to win her over. Pirates, do not keep their words. The next morning, the ship, and the pirate were gone. Gan Ning took and oath that day, to hunt done and kill Jack Hawke. Ever since then, the rivalry, ensued.

For months, the man scourged around, trying to find a ship. When finally, he found one. The Dragons Roar first started out as an elven ship. After the boat deemed to worthless to continue building, they gave it to a local lumber company. Gan Ning bought the ship. He, along with his newly hired crew, fixed it, and set sail. He became a Pirate, seeking ships to plunder. He is always looking for Jack though. He will kill that man.

[Wild Dog]

Name: Many of my employers called me Nighthawk. Others simply by The Hawk. My real name, though, is Araris.

Age: 25

Race: Human

Appearance: People once remarked that I was tall for my age. Other kids always looked up to me. Now, they believe me blessed with a very ordinary height, so not to bump my head of the rafters. My hair is black as coal, except for a thin streak of white hair that is discolored. My parents, when they were alive, had no idea how this happened. My face isn't worth a second look, which is useful in many situations. At times, I can be invisible to the eye, when they skip over me. Average nose, eye color, and mouth can not be described as interesting. As for my rest of my body, one word can sum it up, uninspiring. My arms are toughened from a childhood spent in the blacksmith. Some would call me muscular, but don’t consider me a strong man. My legs are fit for running, which is useful in a tight spot.

I don’t have a particular attachment to what clothes I wear. Anything that fits and does not attract attention is good enough for me. Even though I have worked with swords all my life, I prefer the spear over any other weapon. There lies my greatest advantage over common soldiers, who are trained to fight enemies with swords, but have no training against any other weapon. I've spent long years training in combat. Currently, I am out of work, but have worked for a number of years as a mercenary, assassin, and guard. With me and my spear, I have face numerous foes and survived with minor injuries. Aside from my spear, I usually carry a bow. However, I can neither boast nor downplay my skill, I just get the job done.

Personality: Even though I live in the Empire, I have no love the the people. Most of them hate the Empire but don't have the guts to openly declare it. The others love the Empire and will do any thing to gain power. Of the Varden, I am sympathetic of their efforts. However, they run and hide when they should stand and fight. Of the elves, I know little about them. Even though they are rumored to be on the Vardens side, there is so little evidence supporting that I can not say for sure which side they are on. Of the dwarfs, I believe they are a myth. Of the dragon riders, I hold them in contempt. they are the whole reason that the land is in this mess. Of other magical creatures, I don't know. They may exist, but I do not quarrel with them. O, to have an enemy of flesh and blood.

Even though I am biased in my mind, nothing will stand in my way of getting a job done. If the Empire pays enough money, I will knock down the gate of Hell for them. there lies my passion, not in gold or the thrill of killing, but in glory. If I were to knock down the gates of Hell, what a story that would make. People will sing my name for generations to come. However, I must draw some lines. I am not a mass-murder. Thievery is the one thing I cannot stand.

History: My life began when my parents ended. As far back as I can remember, they were always missing. They died when I was very young. Every since then, I was brought up by a blacksmith living in Teirm. When I was twelve years old, the blacksmith took made me his apprentice. for eight years I worked under him, toiling away while he drank himself to death. I had no regret slitting his throat while he slept. However, there was one thing that old geezer did to me that I thank him for. He taught me how to use a spear. Since then, I have become addicted to the weapon. I train every day.

Since the old blacksmith's death, I took over the shop. Unfortunately, the townsfolk connected me to the crime and had me run out. Every since, I have drifted in and out of towns, seeking work. Usually, people hire me to kill another. No sweat, that is a job I can do. Once, I was hired to kill a top ranking official, whose name I didn't even know. Now, I am out of work.

Role Playing example:
He sat down to his dinner, ignoring everything around him. It has been days since he had last eaten. Five days on the road took its toil of Araris. His coat was worn and soaking wet form the afternoon rain. bits of plant floated down out of his hair as he shook it to clear his mind. His boots were coated with a thin layer of mud, picked up on the way to the inn. His eyes conveyed a heaviness, like he was ready to collapse at any second. His spear, carelessly leaned against the table, was the only thing in his possession that was clean, for he spent long hours sharpening and cleaning his weapon. The spear drew some odd looks, for its oddness in shape and rich ornaments contrasted greatly with the man that held it.

The room was smokey and was general empty, except for the bartender and a maid. as it was not yet dinner time, this was to be expected. However, the man never relaxed. Too long had he been trailed. Sooner or later some hothead would challenge him to a duel. Youth with too much money and too little sense try to kill him to show off to his friends. Ah, too be young again. All ended with one result and Araris walked away unscathed.

After eating his meal, Araris walked to his room. Four doors down, Araris turned and entered. To his right was a four poster bed, ready to be used. To his left a writing desk and wash bin. the entire room looked clean, except for a pair of muddy foot prints leading into the closet. Araris tightened his grip on his spear. "I am not alone," he thought. suddenly, dashing out of the closet came a man. He was medium height, sandy hair, and was carrying a long sword. Without thinking, Araris spun around, knocking the weapon out of the assassins hand with the but of the spear and ran him through. Outrage turned to shock on the man face and he fell, dead. After examining the body, he discovered that the man worked for his ex-employer. The hit man must have been after him because his boss wanted him dead. "If that was the case," Araris thought, "then I need to leave now." Grimly, Araris turned and walked the door.

"I am not staying here," he told the innkeeper and proceed to pay for his dinner. After leaving the inn, Araris once turned to the road. The next town, hopefully, he could find a warm bed and a job.



Angmor and friend suggested this to me

[Wild Dog]

name: Ra'Quden

Age: 300

Race: Elf

Appearance: He is an elf of normal height, which is to say that he was pushing six feet. Sandy, un-kept hair covers his eyes and almost reaches his chin. At first glance, that may trick people into thinking him woman. However, they soon learn otherwise. His eyes blaze with a fire that burns perpetually in his head. The way he stares down people, coupled with the flame, is enough to shaken any man. A thick scar runs from his temple, across his left eye, and down into his chin. Ra'Quden usually rubs this spot when thinking. His face seems to be permently twisted in snear. The rest of his body is lean. Although he isn't as strong as most elves, he is quick and very dangerous.

His hands show scars on top of scars from burns left untreated. Much of his back and lower legs are the same way. On his right shoulder he tattooed a dragon burst into flames. Nobody knows why and he leaves it that way.

His cloak used to be white. Small patches around the arms still shine with the splendor of Elven weaving. Now, it is a muddy, diseased looking brown. Elves, when they used to talk to him, told him that it was going bad and needed to be thrown out. however, Ra'Quden kept, because it reminded him of himself. he wore under the cloak a breastplate carved in stunning image of flames. The amour is small, not protecting his arms. However, after being melted to his body, it is molded to his body. On his waist is located a belt made of strong leather. At his hip used to lay a sword. Now only the hilt remains, the blade being melted away long ago. It doesn't matter to him whether or not the blade was gone. Ra'Quden is skilled enough in magic to make a blade of solid fire.

Brisinger; Ra'Quden only object he cherishes. Even though being a skilled magician, he refuses to execute any magic except that of fire. he has become so practiced in wielding fire, he can do about anything other elves could do with other words. However, using fire did have consequences. He was thrown out of Du Weldenvarden because his methods were far darker then normal elves liked.

Personality: Ra'Quden is quite mad, although he keeps the madness in check. He is quite obsessed with fire. He has no real goal in life, he just wants the world to burn. Ra'Quden isn't personally attached to the Empire, but is perfectly willing to serve them. However, he is not to be trusted fully. If the opportunity presents itself, he will change sides in an instant. The only real people he hates in the elves, his own kind. Becasue his people are allied with the Varden, he hates their guts too.

Even before he was kicked out of his home nation, Ra'Quden didn't have a passion for living things. Nature neither mattered top him nor held his interests. He has hate the world. Other then his abnormalities, he is a brilliant thinker. He isn't a rash person, blindly leaping to conclusions. He thinks before he acts, making sure each action can benefit his plans.

In a fight, Ra'Quden doesn't lose his cool. However, he doesn't sit in the side lines and waits for the battle to be over. He will be a the fray, taking joy in killing others.

History: Ra'Quden was raised in a typical elven family, having a loving mother and a caring father. Both his parents were very accomplished sorcerers, being counted among the highest. Unfortunately, that was their downfall. His life was a happy one until one night. A spell his father was experimenting on went horribly wrong and a fire engulfed the house. The community tried to save them, but they died by the flame. While shifting through the wreckage, they found Ra'Quden, lying in the rubble, shocked. After a few days, Ra'Quden came to his sense. Immediately, he started to ask questioning about his family. When he learned them dead, he refused to speak to anybody. Fifty years passed, the elf sitting in a friend's house, staring at the fire. Then one day, Ra'Quden took an oath to learn how his parents. At first, people didn't take an notice of this change in Ra'Quden. After a while, though, people grew worried.

At first it was nothing to get excited about. Trees bursting into flames at odd times, doors melting. As time flew, however other, more dark accidents were happening. A child coming home with burn marks on her cheek, animals running around the forest with a flames that could not be put out. The last straw came when a river turned into solid flame. Generally, folks were scared out of their mind. An investigation was conducted and Ra'Quden was apprehended. Hoping to not lose a brilliant mind, the elven queen banished him and exiled him into the Hadarac desert. He staid, not because he was told too, but because this was the perfect opportunity to practice his gift. He is not content, however, to stay there. He yearns to get back at the elves and by extension, the varden.

[Wild Dog]

Quick note. Does not need to be accepted, unless an opening can be for a Shade. Alright done. If there is no problems with it, then I will save it for later. if there is, please, reply. Of course, I will be working on it, tweaking some minor details, but this is the first draft. the role-playing still needs to be written, but I have no idea when i will get to it. Hopefully soon.

Name: Ryoushii

Age: Undetermined, even by himself. Though, in his mind, he thinks himself twenty-three

Race: Shade

Appearance:

Ryoushii is a tall shade. Once, he used to be an elf, which is shown through his body. Long red hair, tied in the back. Strong hands allow him to fight with no weapons, which he prefers. His face has an arrogant cast to it, even if he is a coward. His eyes are what sets him apart. Instead of a colored iris and white outer-ring, his whole eye is burnished gold. Few would have the courage to comment that his eyes aren't human, but wolf. They would be right. When the Shade walks, he walks with a graceful stride. At all times, he is looking, searching for enemies, opportunities, and targets. His teeth are filed down to a point.

When human, he wears typical clothing for the town/situation. A hood ensures that his tell-tale hair is hidden. He isn't above the idea on using a cloth as a veil, covering his face except for his eyes. His boots are usually tall, black military boots. Many of his captors have been surprised to discover a hidden blade at the toe. His cloak can hide many things, from knives to an assortment of poisons.

As for weapons, Ryoushii is not an accomplished swordsman. Better with knives, he does most of his fighting hand-to-hand. His employers believe it is a weakness, but he ignores them. So what, he could always fall back into using magic. He isn't an accomplished magician. But when situation demands it he can get out of most scenarios.


Because the spirit that took control of the unfortunate elven youth, torments him, he sometimes slips back into the form of the wolf that he killed. When a wolf, he is a large wolf, even by his standards. He is white with gray and brown streaks on is fur. His teeth are sharp enough to cut through chain-mail. He can run for days, not very fast, but a feat no human can accomplish it.



Personality: Because of the spirit the controls him, he isn't a normal elf. Ruthless, cunning, evil, and malcontent of the world, Ryoushii is at odds with the world. Not satisfied by being controlled by the Empire, he longs to be free. However, the spirit driving Ryoushii is quite evil, he ends up working for the empire. They give him free reign though, because his tendency to change sides if things weren't going his way.

When fighting, Ryoushii goes after the weaker and defenseless. Much like a wolf. When using his knives, he prefers ambushes and controlled environments. When he is a wolf he stalks in targets out. Hamstringing them, and ripping their throats out. The taste of human blood in terrible to him, but elven blood is a feast.

Because a wolf's spirit was entwined in his, he has an unnatural sense of smell. He can smell, emotions, the weather, and even certain people. However, it is very hard to pick out a single person in a crowd. Because, he is always testing the air, looking for potential enemies, he is often occupied and misses much with his eyes.

Of magic, Ryoushii has very little talent. He can't lift a rock if his life depended on it. The spirit takes so much energy to keep the wolf spirit infused with Ryoushii's that it can do little else.



History:

Ryoushii was born Torval Lund in the forest of the elven nation. His parents were accomplished soldiers, but He didn't amount to anything in his parents eyes. As a child, he disdained anything related to nature. His heart was in metal and wheels and moving contraptions. When he would walk outside, he would only marvel at how little brains nature had.

That didn't last long, until he was 23. While walking out in the field a winter long ago, he stumbled upon a battle scene. Three wolves had cornered a stag and were attempting to kill it. The stag, broke free of the hunters and scampered off. Ready to prove that animals were stupid, he followed. Seeing the beasts apparently losing interest in the query, he was about to turn around when the wolves turned on him. They figured that an elf youth would be easy prey. Eyes flashing, they leaped for his knee and hamstrung him. Unable to run, he stared up at his attackers, cursing them in elven. The wolves took no notice and waited for him to die in the cold. SO great was his terror, that Torval yelled out, asking anything or anybody to help him. A spirit heard him and offered to help him. With strength renewed, he fought and killed two of the wolves. One escaped. Once again, Torval asked the spirit to help him hunt down and kill the remaining offender. Little did he realize that a spirits seemingly innocent had a barbed hook attached. With the remaining wolves blood dripping from his hand, the spirit took control of Torval's body.

From then on, Torval was known as Ryoushii. The spirit tormented what was left of Torval's spirit, infusing the wolfs spirit with his own. This caused him to shift his form into that of the wounded wolfs. As a result, the spirit had to control, theoretically, two bodies, making magic or feats of strength impossible.

Ryoushii wondered into the wilderness, cursing himself ant that wolf that ruined his life. Slowly, the spirit gained more control and set him on a path. Far away, events of the world were shifting. Dragon riders were dying out, all until there was one left. Before Ryoushii felt ready to challenge the world, events exploded again. New dragon riders were popping up. Worthy adversaries were once again abundant. Ryoushii pledged that he would become a rider hunter.

Things did not go as planned. He was too weak compared to other shades to anything drastic. He could barely keep his skin when fighting a magician, however weak. He was dragged into service for the empire, as a scout. But he became a nightmare to average soldiers.

Role-playing example:

Ryoushii watched the man before him. His elongated nose made him look like a hawk, staring down lunch. His eyes burned with a fervor. Ryoushii didn't even bother with his scent, he knew that he was quite mad. Devotion almost to the point of worship mulled the senses of the man, pointed to the empire. Such devotion sickened the shade. The man nervously fumbled with his sword. Ryoushii didn't blame him. All the soldiers feared him, at least the minor ones. The officers didn't pay too cents about his being. But the common soldiers, they were scared out of their minds of him. Rumors and stories helped a bit, he admitted, but even far-flung stories had a bit of truth. In his case, a boulder. Tales of a half man half wolf warrior were used too train new recruits into listening to the commanding officer.

[Wild Dog]

Name:
Shu'itan


Race:
Elf


Age:
1298





Description:



Shu'itan was an elf once. Sometimes, he still considers himself one. Pointed ears, grace like a panther, and the famed elven pale skin. However, he is no longer a elf. He wandered off into the wilderness and began to change. His pale skin changed to a a sunburned brown. His pale hair turned black. His "grace like a panther" grew more mortal. His eyes are what draws attention. A fire burns in them, glaring into peoples souls. His hair is often wavy and often up. He doesn't care for it.

His clothing also draws attention. A yellow robe, decorated with designs only he can discern. Yellows and reds make a pattern, symbolizing the sun.

Weapons:

Shu'itan is too old, according to him, to use weapons. He certainly needs none. Shun'itan has a uncanny ability to speak. Speak in a way that men listen. And believe it. He preaches to the people, condemning dragon riders and all who follow them. As a magician, he uses his powers to create drams in his words. Booms of thunder and lightning strikes His followers, the Suncloaks will follow him to the edges of the world. On the flip side, he has a staff with him at all times. Antlers of some unknown animal adorn it. Charms also hang from the skeleton. Shu'itan isn't adverse to using the staff as a club. The antlers are still very sharp.

Body Guards:

The Spider: His real name is unknown. He was born as a elf, but was left to die by his parents. The reason? Because he was born with four fully functional arms Tall muscular, he makes great use of his extra limbs. Using four swords, he works as a Suncloack for Shu'itan. He is loyal as a dog, but can't really think for himself.

The Snake: Small, thin, unremarkable, the Snake is greatly unimportant. Unfortunately, he likes that appearance. He has a uncanny ability to piece together rumors and to relate them to his boss. His boss then takes the credit and makes the Snake safe to operate. Though, he is a great swordsman. Agile, quick, he fights like a acrobat, leaping from opponent to opponent.


Personality:

Outside. he is passionate about his religion. Peace, war, truce, all are part of his theology. He cares neither for the winning side or the losing side. He is kind and compassionate for the believers. His people. He will often go hungry feeding the poor. But for the unbelievers, he is cruel, merciless, and unsympathetic. All who don't follow the Way of the Sun deserve death. He is quite fanatic about sin, although the definition of sin is undefined.

Personally, though, nobody knows if he truly believes his teachings. People who have found out died. There is a madness about him. feigned or real, that catches people by surprise. He is quite willing to sacrifice his life for his order, but took every precaution to save his own skin. A coward, no, but wanting to fulfill his dream of a world following the Order of the Sun. Or under him.

Even though he teaches about sin, he does many things that would be questionable. Apparently, the Sun Master, the name the mob calls him by, has no limits or rules. His suncloacks also have no restrictions. Ever since preaching in Osilon, people beleive that the plauge is a sign. A sign of the ending of this chaos and a rise to the order. No word whether Shu'itan believes it or not. Nobody knows what runs through his mind.

History.

Shu'itan was born and raised many years ago, by a loving mother and father. He grew up, they died, and he started his chosen path. To become a great speaker. One that all the elves, even the queen, would listen to him. He finally accomplished that feat, becoming the most influential speaker in the council. For years, he fought over the recognition of the half elves. He wanted them to be full blown members of the elven country. The queen and council was against it, but he won.

He led a great family life. Married and had two kids. Life was looking up. Until, he decided what his next issue was. He was always fascinated about history. Upon reading a old manuscript, he came to believe that a separate elven colony was thriving beyond the Beor Mountains. Convinced that someone should make contact, he made the preparations said goodbye, and left. 800 years passed. The queen proclaimed him dead. His family moved on. A great tomb was made for him, and a day of mourning. The elven nation lost a great citizen that day. He was far from dead.

Upon reaching the Beor Mountains, he lost his escort in a skirmish with the dwarves. Wounded, he wandered the lands, seeking his way out. What he found instead, is still a mystery. What he claims, is that he stumbled upon the elves, but they changed. They seemed to be darker of skin, and worshiped the sun. Shu'itan claims that he mediated with them, seeking the way of the Sun. Then, a mysteries illness swept through the Children of the Sun's land. All the crops died. Magic was useless. Shu'itan, watched, helplessly, as Child after Child died. Shu'itan vowed to further the Order of the Sun.

This is all what Shu'itan claims what had happened

What happened after that, is fact. He appeared in the empire, preaching about his religion. Officials paid no attention, what is one more crazy man in the scheme of life. Big mistake. Shu'itan gained followers. Soldiers, commoners, nobles alike, they all bowed down be for the Great Master. Soon, the government had to deal with this threat. Not only were the people stirred, but government officials as well were all believing in what Shu'itan was saying. Now, he strives to unite the world under one banner. The Banner of the Suncloacks.


Role-playing example:

I talked.

The heathens stood there, transfixed. Muttering a few words, I caused the sun to look much more brighter, more dramatic. I stood there, basking the the glory of a new world. The promise of peace hung in the air. The Spider was smiling, a stupid smile. He knew. He understood that the Sun was a master of peace. But for now, the way of chaos must be followed. I must take out the unbelievers before the world truly is at peace.

Shifting my staff, I cried out, "Come, all you misguided children. Come, join a new empire. What have these Dragon rider done for you? Repent, join me. I will lead you to glory" Thrusting my staff up, I caused a funnel of fire to erupt, bathing the grounds in a brilliant red. Scrying around, I took a brief look into the minds of the crowd. Many of them believed what I said, but a few still refused to turn. With hearts of stone, they turned and walked out. Muttering to themselves as they went.

For the rest, they appeared ready. My little display was causing an uproar for the soldiers. Many of them started to run towards me. Ah, poor children. My followers, the mob that they looked like, refused to let them near me. Blood was shed. Lives were crushed. Praying, I made the ground erupt, showering the unbelievers with stones. Then all was quiet. They were ready.

[Wild Dog]

And here is a new one, that I will be working on. Soon, I hope to put it in the join forum, but, here I have my previous works, so to gain inspiration.



Name: Unknown. He goes by many names. His previous one, he never speaks of. The skin-changer is a great substitute for his name. Describes him greatly. However, he goes by Tym Smith alot

Age: 184

Race: Elf, or used to be. Now, he switches between elf, human, werecat, and dwarf. He doesn't even think himself an elf anymore. He just is

Allegiance: Varden

Appearance: Which one? He is a skin-changer, so he has many different appearances that he hardly uses one twice. Though, one thing is consistent, the way he changes. With the spell in his blood, he needs to shed it in order to change. First, he has to die. BY HIS OWN HANDS. If anybody else killed him, he would die, completely. When he kills himself, he usually slits his throat. The blood gushes out of is and forms a cocoon around him. Protecting him from bandits. When in the cocoon, the transformation occurs. If one could look inside the capsule, they would see his body turned inside out. Blood fills the cocoon and begins to change him. After a while, his new body is complete and he can walk and talk now. Because of the ever present worry of being discovered, he buries himself underground. So when his body is done, he digs himself up and walks off, a bit stiff legged.

The assortment of skins he can change into differs greatly. He can be male of female. Elf or dwarf. There is several drawbacks though. It is just his image he is changing, not his mind/soul. Even if he is a woman, he is a guy (if that makes any sense to you). When he changes into, say a human, he still thinks like an elf. While in the cocoon, it takes a while for him to change. At one hour, he can change his face color, the shape, the hair, and not much else. That is in the cocoon, though, it takes three hours from death to reemerging up above the ground. To change his race or gender, all night. Werecats and dwarves take even longer.

The last drawback is the fact that if he, say has a long gash on his arm, it will be there when he changes. SO, it does not heal him.

On the plus side, he is an elf. That means, he can use magic. EVEN WHEN HE IS A DWARF OR WERECAT. Because he is still a elf inside, the outward appearance doesn't matter. Course, he is a weak magician. It does, however, make for surprise attacks.

Another plus side is that he can copy another's body down to the toenail. And quickly, if and only if, he brings the body down with him. Dead. He gets the clothes, as long as he kills cleanly. This helps him easily fit into any circumstance. First, though, he monitors the subject for weeks. Then kills him and morphs into him. He takes over the recently deceased's life, caring out tasks that the Varden need.

He never changed back into his original form. Some say that he forgot it. Others say that it reminds him too much of his former life and his sister.

As for weapons, he is skilled all around. Which is too say he knows one end of the sword from another. When he is a dwarf, he usually prefers the axe. Heavily. Sometimes, he would use it even when he is an elf. A heavy blade. Double sided with a pointed spike on top. Because he rarely uses the axe when, say, he is a werecat, he buries it and finds it again later. Though, it is usually in his profession. another tool is two arm gaurds. Fashioned by a famous weapon smith, the two guards can block a sword swing directly. Very useful in a tight situation.

Personality: Tim is a gentle soul, most of the time. He values friendship above all else and loves being together with them. Though, he is a spy, so half of his friends don't really know who he is. That pains him, but he won't compromise a mission. He loves children, and is always trying to find ways to make them laugh. He has a soft spot for nature too. Often, he would walk among the trees, just be-ing for a moment. Often good-natured, he is easily forgives.

However, that is only for his own kind, the elves. For the other races, he is cruel and harsh. Unkind and cold. He won't blink a eye when he kills them.

Because he is a spy often, well, most of the time, his personality doesn't come up much. He will assume different personalities almost the same number of times he actually changes his body.

History. There he was, dancing on the floor. Everybody watching. His pulse pounding. Forehead wet with the effort of his dance. The audience was quiet. They have never seen this before. A dancer with this much fame and money was bound to make a wave here. This was it. For Tym and his sister, this night was the peak of all they hoped to accomplish.

Back in the day, when the two were youngsters, they always dreamed of becoming dancers. They would lie and plan for hours, coming up with all sorts of schemes. But, they were young then, and many of them seemed too fanciful to really do in reality. But one caught both of their eyes. The telling of the world. Where dwarfs and elves and men intertwine the world's history until it creates a web of the current times. They both wanted to dress up as each race. But, such talk was silly and they both forgot about it.

When Tym was 45, he and his sister became apprenticed as soldiers. The sister was un-enthusiastic, but Tym loved it. He grew especially fond with the axe. He practiced it for hours, while his sister staid home and practiced magic. Then came the day that the sister figured out a spell. The spell could make a person's appearance easy to change. So it was possible to change from one form to another is relatively short time. As she pondered on this wonder, her girlhood fantasies came back to her. Desperate, she pawed through old papers and found the dance.

Passionately, she explained the plan to Tym, and they agreed to pull it off. Tym wasn't a dancer, but loved his sister. So the two started to store energy. The spell might need alot, so they waited for fifty years. Once is was completed, they rehearsed, and stepped onto the stage. They planned to spell out in the magic that only they could change themselves. They h

Now came the time. They had yet to do the spell, so they were never really sure that it would work. No time to think now. They each grabbed the stone of power, an muttered the words. Then, all hell broke loose. Tym's sister cried out and crumpled to the floor. Dead. Tym misspoke one of the words, and the the spell was placed on his blood. He used up all the energy in his jewel and started to use Tym's sister's jewel. Which is why she died. Wailing in anguish, he slit his throat.

The elves buried him and his sister and banned that use of magic ever again. Their reason, was that the spell would find its own means for completing the transformation. They were afraid that the spell would make the caster take control of dead bodies, causing his previous body to die. They really had no idea what it really did.

For days, the body lay in the ground. Then, a couple of grave robbers, desperate enough to rob an elven graveyard. Cracking into Tym's coffin, they were astonished to discover a cocoon , made from fossilized blood. That would be enough to scare any man, but they heard something moving in it. Hysterically they ran away. Then, Tym's sister rose from Tym's coffin. Tym, in the appearnce of Tym's sister, was very much alive.

After that point, it took some convicing on who he was. Since then, he became a spy. Drifting in and out of the world. Nobody knows where he it now. Maybe in Surda.