Build-A-Character!

DM Cross

You want to see a magic trick?
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566
Welcome!

Welcome to Build-A-Character!

Q) What is Build-A-Character? [BAC for short. Said like "back" for those of you who are nerdy enough to actually talk about it off-forum.]

BAC is dedicated for people interested in posting their characters for stories, random ideas, or just for the fun of it and get feedback. Keep in mind, this is an OPEN SOURCE, meaning anything you post here is usable by anyone passing by. Plan on becoming a famous author with your character as the main character of a story and don't want to see the exact character in another person's story? Probably shouldn't post it here. But who's to say? Not I... Not I.

Q) What kind of information do I need to post my BAC character? [Heh... Build-A-Character Character... Redundancy, HUA!]

Whatever you like! Height, weight, eye color, hair color, number of extremeties [what?!] etc. etc. This is meant to be a place of creativity. Random aliens and otherworldly creatures are welcome [albeit, we might stare. A little bit.]

Q) Is there any kind of limits or restrictions on BAC characters? [Heh... It's still funny.]

I'd say let's leave it to your better judgement, but well... What better judgement? :) I'll let the inmates run the asylum for now, but don't you fret. I'll be lurking in the shadows, willing to delete posts, -rep users and ban complete idiots from the forum for all eternity :)

So for now, the rules are that there are no rules... Except that you must post characters!

Enjoy the insanity.

Just not too much o_O
 

Ninva

Анна Ахматова
Reaction score
377
This and similar threads may be beneficial for the build a story threads. :thup:
 

iPeez

Hot food far all world wide!
Reaction score
166
Hmmm. I just got an idea based off your thread here. I am not doing much of anything, but have interest in a lot of things, role-playing is one of them. I just had this idea of making RP-custom-character fill in sheets in Photoshop! :O - again, I do very little research and a small search on Google would probably reveal a thousand different of these. But anyways! xO
 

DM Cross

You want to see a magic trick?
Reaction score
566
This and similar threads may be beneficial for the build a story threads. :thup:

That's the idea!

I may post a character later that I had planned on using in a book at some point.
 

Fatmankev

Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
Reaction score
240
*Majorly Revised History*
Galan Aristove a.k.a. The Warden
Gender: Male
Species: Homo Sapien
Subspecies: Eruo
Genre/World: Fantasy, Mundus

Physical Description:
Standing at an even 6'0", Galan's appearance varies little from that of other humans from his setting and era; he's well-built due to the constant rigors of daily physical labor, yet not strapped with sinew as the blacksmiths or the other more labor-intensive occupations would be. Spending a lot of time outside, his normally pale skin tone holds a light yet solid tan, matching that of the surrounding peoples. His eyes are stern and well-set, wavering from an almost ice-colored blue to a dark, almost midnight blue depending on his mood. He's clean-shaven, something that points him out as something of an important figure in this world, but his most distinguishable physical attribute is his long, silver-colored hair. He keeps it back in a simple knot, holding a general sort of disdain for the more commonly worn braid, and its color is almost entirely unique to him. Aside from that, he's about 24 winters old, has a good smile and big hands. Ready for action.

Weapons: As a Hellhound, a member of an elite faction of mercenary/bounty hunters, he wields a magical blade called a 'Drowws'. A new Drowws is specifically crafted for each veteran member of the Hellhounds, and a spiritual/magical bond is formed between the blade and its owner. Following, for every life a Drowws should take, its power will be reverted unto the blade's owner. Although the potential for abuse by those craving power is great, the Hellhounds are mostly a very strict and law-abiding organization, and do not allow it's members to wantonly kill for the sake of achieving power. Aside from its leeching ability, the Drowws are superbly crafted weapons that would only fracture under the greatest duress, and therefore make for excellent basic weapons as well.

Powers: Homo Sapien Sapiens have no inherent magical powers, making them relatively weak except in regards to their resourcefulness, ingenuity and creativity when it comes to technology. Galan, however, is of a different subspecies - Homo Sapien Eruo. There is no known explanation as to how the mutation might come to occur, but occasionally across the vast expanse of the world a human is born with traits inherent of the Demons inhabiting the realm of Abyssus (a world apart, although sometimes the boundaries might blur together). Being one such 'human', or 'eruo' as they're sometimes called, Galan was born with innate magical abilities unique solely to him that are able to grow and develop with practice, and even more so with the power-leeching aid of the Drowws.

Galan's particular power is the power of sealing, or warding. Additionally, although he is not aware of it at his current stage of development, he has the power to open things that may not otherwise be able to be opened (i.e., a wall, a magical barrier, a person or animal). The discovery of this aspect of his power will be a major point in the story, and will allow him to overcome an obstacle that was previously impossible. His sealing power can be used in many different ways; he can use it to place a ward across a doorway to block the path from behind, or he could make a dome around an individual that would effectively imprison them. He could even form the ward across the surface of every inch of his body and force it outward, pushing away anything that it comes into contact with to help with crowd control. The possibilities really don't end until the imagination runs dry.

It is because of his particular powers that he was granted the title, "The Warden," by the Hellhounds organization. It is worth noting that every member of the Hellhounds is an eruo, and so they each have a type of power unique to them, and each veteran member also carries a Drowws to help amplify their abilities. This should give an easy and understandable opportunity for power growth and development over the course of the story with this character and any other possessing a Drowws.

Attitude and History: Raised as the son of a mercator (the traders/merchants of this world), his mother having died in childbirth, Galan bore direct witness to the different castes that existed and the lifestyles that they offered. Educated himself, Galan's father was able to teach Galan the basics of math, reading and writing as he grew, until he was able to work himself. His father often told him to consider how lucky he was that he wasn't forced to toil in the fields day after day, or to tend to the animals in the barns and the slaughtershacks, and Galan did just as he was told; however, his father also told him of the wealth and power of the lords holed away in their keeps, and the exultant majesty and extravagances of the king's lifestyle and castle. Soon after, Galan came to realize that, although he may not have been a serf, he truly wished he could be the king, or at least a lord for that matter, and began to fantasize about a life of royalty on a daily basis. His father tried to scold him away from these pointless practices and threw his soon into their craft, forcing him to work with people so as to prevent his mind from being able to wander whilst carrying out trivial chores.

Over time, he began to dream less and less or his life of luxury, and he began to appreciate more and more his position as a mercator over the serfs. He could come and go as he pleased, he could afford some of the minor luxuries of the lords, and he was definitely gifted in their art. By the time he was thirteen, he was fully committed to his trade; that's when Hephaestus arrived. He came in the dark of night as they were settling down at an inn and explained to Galan and his father that Galan was in possession of a great power, and that he was something more than human - something he called 'the eruo.' At first, his father tried to remove the man, shouting that he didn't know what sort of scam it was, but that he wouldn't fall for it. But somewhere inside of Galan, his old passion to exceed his current station in life was awakened, and he pleaded to his father to hear the man out. Hephaestus explained everything, about a place called Underworld where people like him could go to further awaken their powers, and to use them to make the world a greater place. Unconvinced, Galan demanded some sort of proof to explain what could only be storytelling; Hephaestus took the boy's hands in his and his face grew stoic with concentration, almost shaking from the effort. A moment later, softly glowing crimson light flooded Galan's palms. Terrified by this unknown phenomenon, Galan panicked, and his newfound power erupted forth without restraint, bursting out in all directions, a crimson bubble blooming greater and greater in size and at a tremendous rate. His father was caught in the blast, wide-eyed and horrified with his son as he went crashing through the walls, and as they went crashing into him. After that, Galan didn't remember anything.

When he came to, he was on horseback with the man Hephaestus riding at the reins. He suddenly remembered his father and asked if he was alright. Without looking at him, Hephaestus told him that he'd killed his father, as well as everyone else in the inn that night. It was silent for some time after that as Galan fought at the emptiness inside of him, wanting to cry but for some reason unable to. After a while, Hephaestus turned in the saddle to look at him. He told Galan that that man was less than they were, that all those people were less, and that he needn't worry about such things. He'd be going to a greater place with greater people, and there he'd be able to rise to the level he'd once dreamed of achieving. Unsure how the man could know such things, Galan remained silent, but this is where his view of the common man began to degrade.

Cocky, arrogant and unabashed, Galan long since learned that he was different from most people, and shortly after decided that it made him better than them, too. Constantly aggrieving the Guard (police force, essentially) and the merchants and nobles he's forced to deal with, the people find him to be insufferable. In the company of fellow eruo, however, he is less assuming and deplorable, and his presence is tolerable if nothing more. Again, the fact that he's not well-liked is not a problem in his eyes, because he finds himself to be better than most, eruo included. It is only in the presence of truly powerful individuals that he shows complete and utter respect, humbling himself to an extent that most would assume impossible for him to achieve.

His arrogance is not completely without merit, however; he is very capable with his abilities, and has proven time after time to be an invaluable asset to the Hellhounds. Due to his success in this regard and his natural, intuitive leadership capabilities, he is the Alpha of his pack, which is a group of three to five Hellhound members that work missions together. His personality does him well here as he directs his comrades' every maneuver, utilizing their abilities as if they were his own to an extremely effective degree. Although he may not call them such, the members of his pack are really the closest things to friends that he has, and there is a mutual feeling of respect that they all hold for one another.

Growth and Development: Being the cocky, arrogant fuck that he is, Galan will have to learn over the course of the book that he can't do everything himself and that he's not always right. These two lessons will come at a cost, and will be hard-learned indeed. It's possible that he'll come to learn these lessons at a great expense and change, but over the course of the story things will continue to take a turn for the worse and his newly-found perspective will be put to the test, possibly causing him to revert to his old ways of thinking and making for a disastrous ending. This part is still undergoing some thought as to how to make it truly work. Any ideas are welcome.

Organization: Galan is the Alpha to the Guard Pack, a pack whose missions tend to involve individual protection and escorts from one destination to another. There are four members besides himself, and he is in charge of and responsible for the actions of each of these individuals. Amidst other members of the organization and as an Alpha, he is a relatively high-ranking officer, and he's privy to most of the politics and inner-workings of both the organization and the local government... to his knowledge, at any rate.

Thanks for letting me share. Lemme know if he sounds any kind of interesting, 'k?
 

Fatmankev

Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
Reaction score
240
*Revised History*
Kayla Cortette a.k.a. The Siren
Species: Homo Sapien
Subspecies: Eruo
Genre/World: Fantasy, Mundus

Physical Description:
Standing at about 5'4", Kayla appears most like a human beggar when observed from a distance; lean, quiet and with a sort of hunger. Up close, the toned muscles subtly comprising her lithe form become more apparent, her silence is measured in its deadly menace, and the starving aura surrounding her seems to reach for your very soul. Dark orange orbs glare through unblinking, narrowed eyes, constantly sizing up friend and foe alike, scouting weaknesses and openings in her spare thoughts. Her thin lips are often pressed into a frown that seldom parts from her face. She is tanned in color as are most in the region due to the exposure from the sun, and wears her dark hair down to her shoulders, greased back behind the ears. There's a sort of agelessness about her, and any who dare to ask her age best have made their peace with life, first.

Weapons: As a veteran member of the Hellhounds, Kayla possesses a Drowws, although hers is in the form of a small wrist-mounted punching dagger. This weapon is always worn, even in her sleep, and can be utilized in an instant.

Powers: As terrifying as it is powerful, Kayla's magic is in her voice, the power of Song. Depending on the way she sings, speaks, yells, screams, hums, etc., she can twist and bend the very fabrics of the universe around her. There are no restrictions to what the power of her Song can do aside from what limits her, although her own understanding of her power is inadequate to invoke its true destructive force. There are few techniques through the Song of which she can successfully repeat, and they can only be performed correctly when she's able to concentrate fully. As a result, during most of the more intense battles she tends to unleash magic of which she has no understanding and little control, sometimes making things worse off than they were before.

Songs:
Prelude to Pain - Soundwaves from a battlecry compress into solid energy, forming a concussive force in the direction of the shout, with speed and power relative to vocal volume.
Song of Seduction - An inviting sort of lullaby that lures in any whose ears it happens to fall upon. This affects friend and foe alike, and requires her utmost concentration to prevent failure.
Wavering Wail - A low, keening wail that fogs the minds of those that hear it, clouding their vision, hearing and sense of smell. Like most of her Songs, this affects both friends and enemies, and requires ample concentration.
Additional Songs - There are an infinite number of Song possibilities, some of which she'll come to call on on purpose or by accident, just once or over and over again, successfully or disastrously. Her realm of powers covers: fire, ice, wind, the air, blood and flesh, time, healing, death and undeath, barriers, hypnosis, teleportation, growing and shrinking, aging, illusion and any combination of those or any number of other things I can't think of right now.
The main drawback to her power is that in almost all cases it must be heard, and she can only use it if she can make noise herself. Therefore, it will be simple for certain types of enemies to be able to incapacitate her, where she might otherwise be unbeatable.

Attitude and History: Always a worry to her parents, Kayla never cried or made noises as an infant, and continued this silence up until just past her turning five. She is one of few eruo to have a parent who is also an eruo, as the mutation is not passed down hereditarily. While Kayla's power is almost boundless in its limitations, her mother's is a very simple, very restricted power; she can breathe underwater. Having learned of her own ability as a child and learning of the other eruo out there, she kept it hidden, instead marrying a fieldworker and eventually bearing two children, the second of which being Kayla. Her mother always feared that her children might bear her same curse, but when she witnessed Kayla's power as she spoke for the first time, she realized that it was far, far worse.

Desperate to preserve the simple way of life she'd worked to achieve, she took her daughter in search of a place she'd heard of in her youth: Underworld. She'd been told it was a safe place for people of her kind to go, but she'd never had any mind to live with those sorts of people. Upon her arrival, she pleaded her dilemma to the Hellhounds that received her, and they agreed to take them both in; however, upon Kayla's mother's attempts to leave and refusal to join them, she was taken and imprisoned as are any eruo that refuse to join them. From that point on, until many, many years later, Kayla refused to speak to anyone, practicing her power only in seclusion or out of necessity. Through her silence and as her powers became more well-known over the years, her colleagues began to develop or sort of fearful respect for her.

Distrusting and merciless, anyone is lucky if she even gives them a first chance. No one gets a second chance. Anything that needs doing she can do herself, and "friends" or "allies" tend to get more in the way than anything else more often than not. Constantly craving a better understanding and control of her powers and yet unwilling to listen to those that might help her, she instead uses the Hellhound organization for use of the Drowws as well as its legal leniency - through them, she's able to slay other powerful eruo and magical creatures or entities without repercussion, so long as the kill is pre-sanctioned.

She says very little, as her words are always carried by the Song, and sometimes simple phrases can result in violent, unrestrained force. As a result, few Hellhounds have anything to say or do with her, and far fewer of anyone else do the same; this is how she likes it, though. Although craving newer and greater power, she has a certain fear of her own abilities, and she's unable to draw on her full power because of this fear. She's aware of it and hates it, and it makes her even more bitter than she'd be otherwise.

Spiteful and hateful, she holds as much disdain for her pack's Alpha as she does anyone else, although she also has a degree of respect for his ability to lead and utilize his own power efficiently. Although she prefers to work alone or as a separate piece in a grander scheme, she's clever enough to know when her own plans might not be the best, and will always listen to her Alpha (although whether she chooses to heed his advice or not is another matter).

Growth and Development: With the soul purpose of gaining a better grasp of her powers, Kayla has little to bring her happiness in life. Over the course of the book, she'll come to realize that there is more to life than the pursuit of power (although I haven't found a sufficient cause for her revelation as of yet), and she'll begin to turn over a new leaf, possibly by falling in love or some such. As the story progresses and her character grows both inwardly and outwardly, there will be some sort of disaster (said loved one's death, perhaps?) that will cause her character growth to digress back to the point in which she only desires greater power. But maybe not, that's still undecided.

Organization: Kayla is a member of the Hellhounds organization, sharing a pack with the Warden (and others yet to be announced). The packs are organized with an Alpha as the leader, while the remaining members are ordered numerically (Second, Third, Fourth, etc.) by degree of leadership capabilities; this numerical ranking does not hold any regard to the power of its bearer. For instance, while the Siren may be a Fifth, her power may be the most capable and destructive of anyone in their group. Her ability to lead, however, is greatly restricted due to her unwillingness to speak and her faithlessness in her comrades.

Being ranked as she is, her commitments and responsibilities are rather limited if not desirable. Ranking discipline as an essential virtue, she accomplishes her tasks without complaint quickly and efficiently, and is always the first one ready to depart on a Hunt.

Thanks for letting me share!
 

Fatmankev

Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
Reaction score
240
*Revised Powers and History*
(True name unknown) a.k.a. Cerberus
Species: Eruo Homos
Subspecies: Sapien
Genre/World: Fantasy, Mundus

Physical Description:
Possibly one of the most imposing and intimidating men of his stature, Cerberus only stands at a mere 5'5", a full head shorter than the common man. Regardless of his size, it is apparent immediately upon witnessing him that he is a man above men. His form seems to be carved by the hands of the Maker himself, casting a hideous glare in contrast across his surroundings, be they person or thing; indeed, the very light around him seems dull and dreary compared to his radiant glow. Those few fortunate enough to witness his splendor find themselves caught in a paradigm, too fearful and ashamed to gaze upon him and yet unable to turn away from the awe-inspiring sight. It often leaves onlookers bemused and breath-taken, leaving an uncomfortable impression for the remainder of the day.

More specifically, platinum hair adorns his head like a crown, falling down around his face in soft, tapered spikes that end in a reddish tint. A flawless smile of glaringly white teeth grins knowingly to those around him, far too perfect not to draw attention. His features meld perfectly together, yet keep their distinction; his nose comes to the slightest point that exhibits a prominent defiance, his eyes are set evenly and at a scarce slant, reminiscent of the striking serpent's, and his brow is set with determination yet promises understanding. Arms, torso and legs are covered in smooth muscle, indiscernible when relaxed yet rippingly obvious when tensed. Hands ending in long, slender fingers stay firmly clasped in the small of his back, promising that he fears no one and inviting them to the challenge.

All of this only pertains to his human form, however. Unlike Galan and Kayla, who are humans gifted with demonic abilities through a (currently unexplained) genetic mutation, Cerberus is the offspring of a demon/human coupling. Thus, certain characteristics of both parents are shared by this individual, including the shape-changing attributes of the demons, granting him the ability to assume his flawless human form. In his true form, he stands ten men high, assuming the shape of a three-headed hellhound. Terrifying hand-sized fangs jut menacingly from a sopping mouth sporting the same wicked grin he hosts as a human while dark, piercing eyes scour one's soul in search of its worth. He is either one of few or the only demon/human offspring living in that realm.

In addition, Cerberus has lived for over two centuries, and his appearance has changed in many ways from one era to the next. However, his level of perfection has remained a constant through the ages. Note that his age, true form and almost all general knowledge on this character is totally restricted from the other characters portrayed here.

Weapons: The very first being to wield a Drowws in combat, Cerberus has long since given up the weapon in its material form and absorbed its essence and spirit into himself. For every soul he takes, by his hand or his magic, he gains its power without limit. Over the course of his lifetime, he's come to possess an unimaginably vast degree of power that is comparable to no other living being within their realm. Still, he wears a faux Drowws for appearance's sake, in the form of a long sword.

Powers: The extent of Cerberus' powers is as of yet undefined, and only a few rough guidelines have currently been devised. One of his primary powers, aside from being able to change shape (which is a limited power - he can only assume human forms or the hellhound form), is the ability to divide himself into three separate entities. Each entity will be able to take the form of a human or a one-headed hellhound; additionally, each entity will possess their own thoughts and have control of their own body, yet will also share all thoughts telepathically, communicating over any distance of space in an imperceptible amount of time. The only drawback to this is that his power is divided equally between the three individuals. Worth noting that should an individual entity absorb someone's soul and its power, the other entities will not benefit from the increase until they have all be reunited as one.

The human form he prefers to take is much more frail than his hellhound form as far as physical endurance and durability is concerned, but he is able to perform more complex magical abilities with more focus and accuracy than in the alternative form, and injuries taken in one form transition equally over to the other. That being said, his physical strength, power, endurance, agility, stamina and overall well-being are all on a far greater magnitude than that of an average or above-average human, regardless of which form he's in. Comparatively, an open-palmed strike of little effort would carry behind it the concussive force of an anvil dropped from a cliff. Because of this, he is forced to dedicate a significant portion of his power to holding himself back, and lowering his strength and effectiveness by an exponential degree so as to be able to associate with the general populace.

Cerberus' powers are on a far different plane than any other characters', allowing him to control and manipulate living creatures in many ways, mostly destructive. After hearing someone speak grants him incredible insight into their person, and he can accurately judge their choices and decisions before they do. He can cause catastrophic pain in any spot of the body, outside or in, and can control how that pain presents itself (whether it feels like burning pain, stabbing, shaving, cutting, freezing, shocking or exploding, etc.) without even touching them. He can cleave limbs with a look, flay entire platoons with the flick of his wrist, and boil the blood out of everyone in a room with nothing more than a smirk. In addition, although he doesn't control it, fire has as revitalizing effect on him, able to bring him back from the world of the dead, even, as long as his body is still in tact.

Attitude and History: Although the greater part of his history is left unknown, it is known that the demon, Chaus, was able to reach through the Veil that separates the realms to spread his seed in the womb of a human. This terrible coupling resulted in the monster that is Cerberus, a creature that is truly of both worlds. Having ravaged his mother from the inside out towards the end of her pregnancy, his contorted, three-headed dog form was immediately deemed as a curse. Her husband bundled him up and took him to the Temple of the Maker, offering him fearfully to the priests. After performing a banishing ritual (which is purely religious, and possesses nothing magically-related), the priests stabbed him through the heart with a silver dagger. As a final element to their cleansing ritual, they placed his remains in a cleansing flame. In the midst of the final prayer, Cerberus' form rose from the ashes, developed more fully than he'd been before, standing easily as high as the priests. The ensuing chaos must have pleased his father, and from there on the truth of his journeys have been lost in the annals of history.

This man is the Triple C threat - cool, calm and composed. Impossible to 'ruffle his feathers', he is a man that can level out any situation through words alone. A wise man will think before he says anything, making every word spoken meaningful through thought. Cerberus doesn't need to hesitate before saying the exact right thing; in fact, he often anticipates the entire course of the conversation by the time it's begun, and can accurately read and assess individuals' emotions so as to steer their own thoughts in his chosen direction.

Deeper down, Cerberus holds a vicious contempt toward humans, demons and eruo. Although he rarely loses his composure, on the seldom occasion that things don't go exactly as he wants he rapidly transforms with a terrifying, explosive force, screaming any man down into a blubbering mass.

Personal Growth: Will be relatively non-existent; he's been alive for too long to be changing his ideals and way of thinking now. I assume that there will be little to no character growth regarding this character.

Organization: Cerberus is the mysterious leader behind all operations in the Hellhound organization. Although he is rarely seen except by the most prestigious officials and most seasoned and decorated of the Alphas, his presence is known, feared and respected by all. He holds a seat of power akin to that of a king's, and is arguably the most powerful person on the continent, politically (and otherwise, of course).

Thanks for letting me share.
 

Fatmankev

Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
Reaction score
240
*Majorly Revised History*
Benton Overleigh a.k.a. The Magister
Species: Eruo Homos
Subspecies: Sapien
Genre/World: Fantasy, Mundus

Physical Description:
Benton Overleigh is one of the individual entities that Cerberus divides himself into, although this fact remains unknown through the story until a much later point. Given this fact, his physical appearance varies from Cerberus' very little except in his most noticeable attributes. His burgandy hair is of an average length, and is slicked up and back in an unusual and elegant fashion. His eyes glimmer dark and blue like a moonlit lake, displaying a presence of mind that would unsettle any who beheld them. A meticulously well-groomed beard accents his stern and knowing features, starting at the upper corners of his lips and flowing down into a point at his chin. Aside from these, the most noticeable difference between Cerberus and Benton is their height - since Benton is the Magister of the (currently unnamed) kingdom, he is of an average height (about 5'10") so as to better appeal to the people. His flawless appearance otherwise only stands to help this point.

All this being kept in mind, he is a fractioned entity of Cerberus and holds the capability to transform into a single-headed hellhound. In this form, he sports a coat of burgandy and dark brown fur and the same blue eyes as he does while human. On four legs, he stands over two men high, and could strike fear into the heart of anyone.

Weapons: As the Magister, he carries no weapon but is instead constantly surrounded by an elite corps of bodyguards, most of which are human although there is always at least one Hellhound eruo on retainer. Still, all of this is just for show as he is far more powerful than even all of the people guarding him are combined.

Powers: His magical powers differ in no way from Cerberus'. If he is harmed, neither Cerberus nor the third individual entity will be harmed short of Benton Overleigh's death. Should death transpire, the other two entities will be injured both spiritually and physically, disrupting their powers and causing them great harm. However, once the entities merge together and divide again, Benton Overleigh will be born anew.

His political powers, on the other hand, vary greatly from Cerberus'. Whereas Cerberus controls the Hellhound organization and holds limited sway with the people, the Magister is the absolute law in the land. Between the two of them, they control the government and the military, both standard and magical, and have the potential to shape the rest of the world as they see fit.

Attitude and History: Overleigh was first seen twelve years ago, claiming to be a mercator from distance lands that had recently gone through a revolt and adopted a novel form of government that liberated its people from their shackles of servitude and gave them the chance to break free from their castes. He spread word of this concept from fiefdom to fiefdom, luring many of the lords' thralls and vassals away and into his service, and in just a year's time, he had a small, standing army. It was not long afterward that he began going to the lords themselves, offering his ultimatum: join forces with him and be rewarded after the revolution, or remain loyal to the king and suffer imprisonment for the rest of their days. He offered each lord one night to consider the offer, leaving a small squadron behind to hear their answer as he rode forth, onward to the next estate. As only six of the nineteen fiefdoms offered their services to Overleigh, almost half of the squadrons he left behind were either imprisoned or executed, and many of the others were forced to beat hasty retreats.

After all of this was accomplished, he officially waged war on the king, who had his remaining lords assemble their men at the capital. Although Overleigh's forces were outnumbered four-to-one, he had something (aside from his own great power) that they didn't: the employ of the Hellhound organization. Although its members were much fewer than they are today, Cerberus himself joined the battle, displaying a fraction of his incredible power in his human form. The battle ended almost as swiftly as it began, lasting only a mere ten days before the remaining vassals announced their surrender and opened the gates, thrusting their former king out of his castle walls in hope of mercy. Overleigh granted all of the commoners fighting for their lords a pardon, allowing them to go to their homes to plan for the dawn of a new age. His own army he divided into thirteen different platoons, grouping a Hellhound with each one, and sent them off to arrest the remaining lords, all to be imprisoned along with the king for the remainder of their lives. From then on, he assumed the role as Magister, presiding over the kingdom.

Again, although characterized as an individual entity, and also considering that his thoughts are his own, his personality is no different than Cerberus'. As a result, the uncanny similarities will become increasingly obvious to the other characters as the story progresses, to the point in which they suspect and eventually uproot the conspiracy. That is, if Cerberus doesn't reveal it himself, first.

Personal Growth: N/A

Organization: As the Magister of this (currently unnamed) land, he is essentially the dictator-king of the province. Although there is a small, elected counsel consisting of a head of commerce, a commander-general, a high justice, a senior analyst, a guard-general, and an overseer, their powers are limited by the fact that their existence is conditional upon the Magister's satisfaction. No decisions affecting the whole of the nation are made without his consent, and they're seldom anyone's decisions but his own. This governmental body does a great deal; from tax collection to road-building, from providing healthcare services to raising an army, and from making and enforcing laws to protecting its citizens with them.

Many of the laws, duties and responsibilities of the government are newly enacted policies, existing for only three or four decades as of this point. These newer laws and policies were only put into effect after Cerberus assumed power, which he achieved through a massive civil revolt that he caused, resulting in the death of the former ruler. In the ensuing chaos he easily took command, and promised the people a better time and a better life under his rule. Shortly after, he formed the people-elected concept behind the counsel and put it into action, granting the illusion of a republic-type system of government.

Thanks for letting me share. Have I hijacked this thread? My apologies if that's the case, I'll continue these in a separate thread if desired.
 

DM Cross

You want to see a magic trick?
Reaction score
566
You're using the thread for it's intended purpose. No worries at all, if I could, I'd +rep each post you've given here.

For those who haven't noticed, I tend to +rep those who contribute to the WC.

I will most likely be posting character bios for a fan-fantasy style thing I'm working on... I just have to actually type something up.
 

Fatmankev

Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
Reaction score
240
Word, thanks for that. I wanna see some characters from other writers' worlds, with ya'lls own unique ideas and twists, so post yours when you can, Seth, and hopefully some of the others will start to add their own.

I know I've been looking forward to it, and still am.
 

C-Death

I love you
Reaction score
45
The wailing woman
Species: Ghost/spirit/specter
Sub-Species: : N/A
Genre: Fantasy

Physical description:
The wailing woman is nothing but a myth or legend. Some say she exists, others deny it. Travelers have reported seeing a crying young woman with black hair and blue eyes wearing a white dress. Every time she’s been seen, she’s been cradling an invisible baby in her arms. Whether she’s seen in a forest or in the mountains, those who claim to have seen her say that the sound of a woman crying seems to follow her.
Only one man has ever claimed to have spoken to her, he said that she would only say four words, and that she would say them over and over: “My child is dead.”
Weapons
The wailing woman has never been known to cause any direct physical harm to anyone. As the reports say, she carries nothing but an invisible child in her arms. Travelers who have seen her say that looking in to her eyes will cause utter insanity and lust. Once a man is stricken by her, the legends say that she vanishes. The effects of the insanity she inflicts are slow at first. Men have been known to dream about her all day and night. These men will often become rather socially isolated. The desire they feel to find and hold this woman often causes one to seek her out again.
Naturally, those who seek her out cannot find her. One falls so madly in love with her that when they fail to find her, they abandon all hope for life and kill themselves.
Attitude:
The only words she has ever spoken to those who find her are “my child is dead.” She seems to be nothing but utterly devastated at the apparent loss of her child; and therefore her personality is only of sadness and despair.
Personal growth:
Claims of seeing her have been reported for thousands of years. No one knows for sure exactly why her spirit remains; but it’s safe to say that it probably has something to do with her child. Perhaps she’s waiting for some brave adventurer to find her dead child and bring her peace? (wink wink nudge nudge)
Once in a while, where she has been seen, adventures and travelers have found a sigil carved into trees or rocks.


For what ever reason, I've also drawn up a sigil for her (woot for my leet art skills)

Don't know why you would want to, but feel free to use/edit the sigil to your desires.

The sigil:
2hheuz5.jpg
 

Fatmankev

Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
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240
Cool character, C-Death. Is this a character for a story you have in the works, or is it just one you came up with off the top of your head? I really liked the insanity aspect the Wailing Woman, it really gave the character something to go with. What's the sigil all about, any idea? It does look kinda nifty, I'm glad you had fun drawing it! =D

Thanks for sharing, there.
 

Fatmankev

Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
Reaction score
240
*Majorly Revised History*
Parvin Fenferdean a.k.a. the Head of Commerce
Species: Homo Sapien
Subspecies: Sapien
Genre/World: Fantasy, Mundus

Physical Description:
A stout and portly man standing at about 5'10", Parvin is a rotund gentleman with a thick, bushy mustache gripping his upper lip like a fat, furry caterpillar. His round face is usually blushed red by heat, mead or both, and a glistening sheen of sweat often coats his drooping jowls. Fat, greasy fingers embellished with rings set with precious stones wiggle anxiously when empty, and seldom stop moving even when they've got something. Fluffy light brown hair rests airily atop his pate, combed over so as to hide the glaring bald spot that could put mirrors out-of-business. Sunken brown eyes watch the world through a drunken haze, doing little to reflect the forced laughter often bellowing from his chest.

His attire is always of the utmost quality and the rarest materials, the designs often festooning the outfit in a pompously audacious manner that is off-putting to many of similar or equal political stature (and more, besides). Still, he insists the absurdity of his outfits represents his eccentricity, his creativity and his fashionable taste - all of which he fails to possess to any degree.

Weapons: As a regular human, he is weak and vulnerable to the powerful magics of the eruo, as well as to the iron and steel of conventional weaponry. Due to his carefree upbringing as a noble, he never acquired the skills to sufficiently wield a weapon in combat. The result is that he is constantly accompanied by two bodyguards each standing a full head-and-a-half higher than the common man. These two seasoned warriors have both seen and survived countless skirmishes (previous foes' currently undecided) and boast excellent sword and shield skills that few dare them to prove.

Additionally, he always (that is, when he can remember to) carries an ornate boot knife on his person as a last line of defense, passed down to him by his former lord uncle from whom he usurped power from.

Powers: Magically speaking, and physically for that matter, Parvin has no powers whatsoever. As the Head of Commerce, however, his political sway is likely the most prominent of any member of the council. He is in control of the taxes and the treasury, from how much the citizens are charged to the collection of and redistribution of the taxes. Additionally, all requests for foreign and domestic trade by the mercators, who carry trade between far and distant lands whether they be friends or enemies, must be approved by Parvin first. Any of the other council bodies that desire funds from the treasury must acquire them through Parvin, granting him a lot of power in that regard (and a lot of enemies, to boot).

Attitude and History: When Parvin first arrived as the Head of Commerce, he was a man full of fire and brimstone, bright-eyed and eager to be the one to make the changes that would transform their nation. His father, Lord Ivan Fenferdean, succumbed to sickness when Parvin was only seven, just a year too early for him to assume the lordship himself. As a result, Parvin's uncle, Kane Fenferdean assumed the title, gaining control of the estate and taking Parvin under his wing.

The new Lord Fenferdean was a cruel and unrelenting ruler, demanding his serfs produce more in less time, forcing them to work hours long into the dark. During the winters, Fenferdean allowed only a certain amount of food per household, and those families with more than three children were forced to make horrible sacrifices to survive, if they were even able to. Each evening before sunset he'd take off on horseback to scour his lands, searching for a maiden that might catch his eye so that he could take her back to his keep to have his way with her, letting her limp painfully and shamefully back to her home in the darkest hours. Occasionally, Parvin would hear that these women would go missing altogether, never returned home from the keep; whether it was his uncle's doing or some unknown scoundrel's, he could never be sure.

Regardless, Parvin's father, Ivan, taught his son the proper virtues and his own morally just code of ethics, and they stayed with Parvin through all of his uncle's tyranny. Having seen the fair way that his father had ruled, and comparing it to the way his uncle abused the powers, it wasn't long before he realized that something must be done. Although his uncle had undoubtedly sired at least one bastard child among all his victims, he had no legitimate heir, and Parvin knew that he could claim the lordship should his uncle somehow be removed. Still, knowing that it would make him no different from his uncle, he refused to carry out any sort of assassination attempt, and settled on trying to change his uncle's ways over time. His uncle rarely heeded his words, and over time began to trust his nephew less.

When Overleigh arrived and offered Lord Fenferdean his ultimatum, he acted as if he might consider the offer. Parvin was delighted to hear that his uncle might listen to Overleigh, and he assured him that he was making the right decision. Shortly after leaving the room, suspicion crept over him, and he sneaked back to the door. Through it, he heard his uncle demanding a courier be sent to the king in warning, and that Parvin be shackled and imprisoned immediately. In a panic, Parvin ducked into hiding until the men his uncle had spoken to left, and then entered the room. Slowly, as if in a trance, he moved over to his uncle, each stride slow and exaggerated. Before he or his uncle knew what he was doing, he'd picked up a small candelabra from off the table and smacked it over his uncle's head.

As if knocking himself in the head, he awoke out of his daze and found that some guards had joined him. He immediately snapped at them to shackle his uncle up and throw him in the dungeons, and at first they seemed to hesitate; an explosive fervor erupted through him, and the way he rose up and bore down on the men allowed for no question in their minds as to who was in charge. Shortly after, he had Overleigh's messengers carry the word: they would join the battle.

After it was all said and done, he assumed his position eagerly, ready to make a difference as Overleigh had promised. Although at first he pursued his duties admirably, his ingenuity and decisiveness making him a well-respected individual early on, his drive began to wane over time as he realized that he wasn't actually making a difference. Things just seemed to stay the same, and the more he fought the futile endeavor that is one man trying to change the world, the more he began to lose heart.

The transformation was slow, at first, but over time his confidence, pride and resolve began to peter out until there was naught but the husk of the man that remains. As hopelessness began to take its hold tighter and tighter, he found himself turning to spirits in an effort to raise his; the result was disastrous, proving only to accelerate his spiraling descent into the delusional madness he now endures.

In his drunken stupor, he's managed to convince himself that he'd somehow accomplished his task, and that now he could just sit back and relax. As such, he's always far too willing to laugh at a joke (or just about any damn thing coming out of someone's mouth), and many find him to be hard to take seriously. He likes to sit and laze about as if he'd accomplished the world, allowing himself to dine on the finest meats and confections without relent, as well as the richest, most well-aged wines and meads of the country. He's deluded himself into thinking that he's done something worth being rewarded for every minute of every day.

The only time in which a sober thought can be derived from the man is when his uncle is mentioned; during his descent into madness, he found himself to be no better than his uncle and infinitely wished for nothing more than to return things to the way they were. Now, his meaningless smile fades whenever his uncle his mentioned, his eyes grow sad and distant, and his lip quivers as realization dawns over the man. For a moment, he is the miserable, wretched and sane remnant of the man he once was. Then, after a certain cog has finished turning in his mind, his grand deception lowers the veil back down over his eyes and he is stupid and happy again.

Personal Growth: Although potential for personal growth certainly exists with this character, his role as a character will be truly secondary, and so I can't be sure how far I'll go with it, if at all. Still, the potential being there is always a good thing, whatever I may or may not choose. Who knows, maybe he'll become more important? You never know.

Organization: He is a member of the council elected by the people and instated by Benton Overleigh, Magister of the nation; more specifically, he's the Head of Commerce, as described above. He possesses certain political powers that others on the council do not, but the same can be said for them as well.

Thanks for letting me share.
 

C-Death

I love you
Reaction score
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Cool character, C-Death. Is this a character for a story you have in the works, or is it just one you came up with off the top of your head? I really liked the insanity aspect the Wailing Woman, it really gave the character something to go with. What's the sigil all about, any idea? It does look kinda nifty, I'm glad you had fun drawing it! =D

Thanks for sharing, there.
Off the top of my head :D I don't know about the sigil. In my main writings, it has a lot to do with demons and my own brand of demon hunters, and sigils are very important. Plus, who doesn't love drawing on parchment? :p
 

Fatmankev

Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
Reaction score
240
*Majorly Revised History*

Erickar Vasallus a.k.a. the Guard-General
Species: Homo Sapien
Subspecies: Sapien
Genre/World: Fantasy, Mundus

Physical Description:
Erickar stands tall and menacing at about 6'5", his broad shoulders and short, corded neck granting him a bear-like air amidst his usual company. The gruff, shaggy black growth creeping across his face, as well as the dark, murderous glower set against his face in stone, tend to send both strangers and acquaintances scampering off in the other direction. His heavy footfalls noisily clap the ground with enough force to nearly cause tremors, announcing his arrival whenever he's in earshot. A crooked nose, broken and set a few times too many to ever look proper again, seamlessly compliments a sour scowl on good days, or a dire snarl on the bad ones. The acrid stench of sweat and smoke quickly fill any room upon his entrance, and linger far too long after his departure; although fiscally capable, it's evident from quite a distance that hygiene is of little importance to him. Overall, the effect is about halfway-terrifying, and many lose their composure in his company.

Weapons: Declaring the shield as the most effective tool in battle, Erickar can always be seen with a buckler strapped to his left forearm and a kite shield strapped to his back, if it's not already on his other arm. He houses an array of weapons on his person at any given time, and prides himself on his versatility; he is adept with almost every sort of one-handed blade, as well as many axes, maces and any of their variations. If the situation arises, he's even been known to throw up the odd spear or to dawn the occasional bow, but these instances are few and far between.

Favoring what he refers to as, "The Way of the Wall," Erickar wields both shields in combat with a stoic sort of tenacity. He cannot be moved, pushed away or backed down in battle, parrying and deflecting blows with a trained efficiency that grants him the opportunity to find the chink in any enemy's defense. When he senses his moment, the wall gives in, collapsing down on its assailant with an unstoppable, crushing force. He's a very talented fighter that has survived many near-death scrapes.

Powers: Magical capabilities are non-existent. As the Guard-General, he is the chief enforcer of laws throughout the nation, making his own rounds in the capital city where the Magister resides. His duties involve the acquisition and punishment of dissidents throughout their lands, whatever their crime may be, and to enforce any of the laws that exist. He can suggest new laws, and then he, the Senior Analyst and the High Justice vote between themselves on their implementation. As long as the Magister doesn't veto it, it comes into effect immediately.

Although he doesn't necessarily abuse his powers and privileges, he exercises them quite readily, making arrests whenever he sees fit (which tends to be whenever he's walking down the street). Truly, people try to become as inconspicuous and unassuming as possible whenever he's around, whether they're a filth-sodden peasant or a gold-embroidered noble. He commands all of the guard units throughout the country, hiring and firing people dependent on the rampant state of their ever-fluctuating budget, and can amass a small army if necessary. He is the primary line of defense to the country and the Magister.

Attitude and History: Gruff, rough, rowdy and rude, few of Erickar's status can appreciate his personality and demeanor, and for good reason; Erickar is the only member of the council who did not possess some aspect of nobility to his lineage. Raised as the only child of a serf on the former Lord Rorrick's estate, he struggled through the meager survival that was his daily life through his entire childhood. At the age of nine, Lord Rorrick named his mother as a suitable candidate for his harem, and she was whisked away from him with a suddenness that left a terrible loathing burning inside of him. Blaming the lord for taking his mother, his father for doing nothing to stop him and his mother for going with him, he found that he no longer felt a connection to anyone, and began to strike out at anyone around him.

At the age of fifteen, he eventually picked a fight with an armed group of the lord's thralls and managed to incapacitate four of them with only the broken leg off a chair before being overwhelmed and subdued. After being jailed for a fortnight and receiving ten grueling lashes, he was forced into servitude as a guardsmen, his impressive display of fighting prowess at such a young age having been recognized. The change in routine and ability to take out his aggression in a constructive way did a lot towards relieving him of his rage, and he began to think of how he might see his mother again.

At first not allowed in the keep, over the years he proved his worth time after time both as a fighter and a leader, and eventually rose to lead a large division of Lord Rorrick's forces, as well as being granted access to the keep. Still, no one but Lord Rorrick and his concubines were allowed access to his harem, and Erickar was driven to find his mother again. For more than a year, Erickar would position himself guarding the doors or near the doors of the harem, stealing a furtive glance inside whenever the opportunity arose; never, though, did he see his mother, or any signs of her. Eventually, he realized that he'd never be able to speak to her like that, and his past rage began to take hold again. He began plotting a coup, trying to devise a way so as to win over the support of his current forces and surprise Rorrick from the inside, but he was unable to devise anything substantial.

Before his scheming was complete, Benton Overleigh came to request Lord Rorrick's aid with overthrowing the king. Rorrick refused, but Erickar seized the opportunity; with a hard-earned reputation as a warrior and commander, he called on the vassals under his command, promising glory and the dawn of a new age as Overleigh had should they join him in this cause. Rousing his comrades' pride, greed and battlelust, they marched on the keep, acquiring troops under separate commands along the way. A skirmish ensued between the two factions but Erickar's forces were largely the victors, and they cast Rorrick in shackles and stripped him of his title, his estate and his harem. It was only then that Erickar discovered that his mother was no longer there, and that she probably hadn't been for years.

In his fury, he immediately marched off to kill the man, but Rorrick was already being transported to a keep that Overleigh had designated as a political prison for those in power that opposed him. At first he was so outraged that he threatened to denounce his alliance with Overleigh should Rorrick not be returned to him, but Overleigh managed to convince him that he would be much more use alive in the end than dead, and that backing out now would be the worst choice he could make. Begrudgingly, Erickar committed his forces to Overleigh and once the battle had ended, he was granted the position of Guard-General on the council, in charge of the nation's police force.

By the time he assumed his role, he had little left but his general disdain for people and his love of combat. Having little else to do, he commits himself to his duties, punishing crime with an iron first and hunting down those that he sees something of Rorrick within. He can't tolerate nobility, associating with them or working with them or even being around them for the most part, the council members least of all. He holds a particular disdain towards Parvin as he loathes everything about the man, especially the fact that he controls the budget. When he's in meetings, he tends to remain silent but for the occasional hacking cough, but in the streets he's a loud, vociferous terror, cursing and ranting about the city's state of strife and disharmony. When it comes down to it, this man is the same on the outside as he is on the inside.

Personal Growth: In his current state, he has scant to live for but for his work and his love of combat. As the story progresses, Lord Rorrick will have been freed by an opposing nation due to his stash of resources and certain connections he's capable of calling upon. This revives his former vigor and he throws himself into hunting the man down, crossing his path with a certain Hellhound pack several times throughout the story. Eventually, he hunts Rorrick down and learns the truth about his mother; that after only three short years, long before he ever became one of Rorrick's thralls, Rorrick had his mother sold away, and not killed as he'd long since suspected. Thus, a new hope is born, and changes begin to dawn in him in a positive light.

Organization: He is a member of the council elected by the people and instated by Benton Overleigh, Magister of the nation; more specifically, he's the Guard-General, as described above. He possesses certain political powers that others on the council do not, but the same can be said for them as well.

Thanks for letting me share.

Cool, C-death, cool. How do the sigils act in your demon hunter stories? Any way you could tie that in with this character you've made here? Sometimes you can find ingenious, original ways to connect two ideas or characters that wouldn't otherwise be related, and it turns out to be one of the better aspects of the story. Anyway, I appreciate you posting your character as well, man.
 

Fatmankev

Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
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Just want to point out that I'm finding this to be an excellent resource, personally. At first I was just trying to have a bit of fun, but now I'm actually trying to thresh out a whole plethora of these characters so as to create the world through them. It's actually the most effective pre-writing technique I feel like I've ever employed.

Good idea, man. I appreciate this thread a lot. Thanks for making it.
 

C-Death

I love you
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Cool, C-death, cool. How do the sigils act in your demon hunter stories? Any way you could tie that in with this character you've made here? Sometimes you can find ingenious, original ways to connect two ideas or characters that wouldn't otherwise be related, and it turns out to be one of the better aspects of the story. Anyway, I appreciate you posting your character as well, man.

The gears of my mind are always turning. To be honest, I make up a lot of my writing on the spot, as I write. I'm thinking that, maybe, when a demon kills, it's sigil shows up on its victim, or something like that.
 

Fatmankev

Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
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The gears of my mind are always turning. To be honest, I make up a lot of my writing on the spot, as I write. I'm thinking that, maybe, when a demon kills, it's sigil shows up on its victim, or something like that.

Yeah, I'd suggest you try to get out of that habit, bro. I've got that same exact issue that I've been struggling to rectify for years now, and I'll admit that it's been slow progress. Just about all of my best work has been done with about 0% pre-writing accomplished, but all of my best work has been left unfinished. It's maddening, dude.

That's why I'm writing out all of these characters before I start writing the story - if I know who they are and what they do before I add them to the story, then I'll be able to connect thoughts, characters and the plot itself in a much more organized and successful manner, I suspect. I'm sure you run into the same problems as me, forsaking pre-writing the way you do. It's worth trying out, boss.

I can respect your idea with the sigil 'cuz it's sort of like a murderer's signature... cool concept. Still, I feel like it should be more substantial than that, like it should hold some sort of power or some such after it's in place. But you know, whatever works for your story. Thanks for sharing, dude.
 

KaerfNomekop

Swim, fishies. Swim through the veil of steel.
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You've made up pretty much the whole thread xD.

I'll post something up tomorrow.
 
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