Ira, Demonlord of Wrath
Committed
Roleplay posts: 62 
Age: Ancient
Physical Description: He stands upwards of 20ft tall with bright red, angry skin. Massive muscles dominate his large frame. Unlike many of his fellow demon lords, Ira has no human form, instead, he shrinks down if he needs to interact with the lesser immortals or mortals, or fit through a door without destroying it.
Clothes and Equipment: He wears demonic plate mail (not shown in pic) all the time. It is black in color, with silver highlights. Dried blood is a frequent feature on it as well, the blood of those who make him angry, an easy task to accomplish. He wields a flaming sword, matched by a barbed whip used to retrieve those who attempt to flee after incurring his ire.
Registered: Oct 15, 2016 11:02:32 GMT -8
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Post by Ira, Demonlord of Wrath on Apr 6, 2017 11:05:56 GMT -8
Gatts would find the daemons no easy prey, in spite of his confidence and skill. Their master was the Lord of Wrath, and his domains included War. Yet still they drew back from the Berserker as a larger member among them stepped forward, challenging the rampaging warrior to a duel. All around him the bodies of the daemons he had slain dissolved into the ground. A voice would echo through his head as the Wrath ringers surrounded him to prevent interference in the duel. "You are mighty indeed Gatts, a warrior worthy of my attention. Let me see you fight a Herald of Wrath..." the voice, belonged to the Daemon Lord himself, the Herald referring to the larger daemon that had stepped forward to challenge him.
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Post by Kharn, Champion of Wrath on Apr 6, 2017 11:10:26 GMT -8
The lightning blast slammed Kharn to one knee, but even as it crackled across his armor he stood, fighting through the pain, the mage's magics angering him. He had served Ira for a millenia, had fought better and endured worse.
He laughed, mocking the witch.
"That is the best..." the arrow pinged off of his pauldron, achieving nothing more than a slight dent. Enraged at the cowardly attack, he leaped at the witch, seeking to tackle her to the ground.
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Wendy the Witch
Committed
That witchy, twitchy girl
Roleplay posts: 83 
Age: 18
Physical Description: Grey hair, pale skin, brown eyes. Short.
Clothes and Equipment: Pictured, as well as a magical bag of holding that carries the other bits and pieces she needs, such as an assortment of books and scrolls, vials and jars, herbs and weeds, dried animal parts, a cauldron, a skull, candles, etc.
Registered: Mar 23, 2017 13:55:25 GMT -8
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Post by Wendy the Witch on Apr 6, 2017 11:57:11 GMT -8
She had turned her gaze off of Kharn, assuming that he'd be more sizzled than he was, to watch the fight -- only briefly -- with the dragons. But only briefly was all that Kharn, Champion of Wrath needed, it seemed. She caught his leap at the corner of her eye and by the time she turned, a gasp stuck in her throat. Her hands were already wrapped around the handle of her broom and she jerked up on it out of intuition, but it was too late. The Champion of Wrath tackled into the witch and her broom and they went spinning through the air, gaining velocity but losing height. She was trying to kick and scream at him to get him off, but in another second they went crashing into the ground, sliding hard into the mud in a tangle of dress and hat and boots and armor and axe and muscle. Her concentration was broken, and the storm above immediately began to clear, the sunshine of day breaking through the clouds and the rain letting up. Slathered in mud, Wendy's gaze was still glowing, her hair still dancing as she tumbled quickly away, her grimoire flipping to another page as she flung her hand out and muttered and incantation. The earth rumbled for a moment before thick vines came bursting from the ground like tentacles, seeking and racing for Kharn to tangle around his legs and torso and arms and try to bring him down into a gripping, crushing embrace. Wendy didn't stay to see if the vines caught him, she immediately turned on her heel in a panic and began to run toward a shelter, ditching her broken broom for a moment. She was now on the ground with the demons, with Raoul Ferdinand in the forest's edge and Gatts facing down the horde. |
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Post by Kharn, Champion of Wrath on Apr 6, 2017 12:10:33 GMT -8
The vines would be no match for the ferocious warrior, raw strength and whirling axes ripping and tearing them apart, heedless of any magical properties. Kharn was a whirlwind as he chased after the witch, noting the horde surrounding the Berserker and regretting that he had to miss the duel.
The witch was unlikely to be faster than the Champion, and he caught up to her rather quickly, smashing her to the side with a single gauntleted fist.
"Gotcha, Witch" the last was said with considerable venom, as Kharn hated mages, but his loyalty to his Lord was absolute, even if all he wanted to do was rip her head off via her own spinal cord.
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Sugar Hollow
Established
Roleplay posts: 25
Registered: Mar 6, 2017 16:15:42 GMT -8
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Post by Sugar Hollow on Apr 6, 2017 12:16:33 GMT -8
Most people, upon seeing dragons descending on the town, would immediately get as far away from the town as possible. Tom Waltz, however, was not most people. Raised in a castle as the son of a lord, he'd had his fair share of knight-in-shining-armor training. It had been a while since he'd left the castle with his sisters to come here to Sugar Hollow, but some things weren't easily forgotten. After digging his armor out of the closet, he quickly put it on and retrieved his sword from under the bed. He'd come all the way out here for a simpler life, without dragons, but it seemed that perhaps things just wouldn't work out that way. Hopping on his horse, he rode into town, and stopped behind a burned house to survey the chaos. What was going on? There were demons, dragons, people fighting the dragons and demons...and a witch? He watched as the girl got struck down by a rather large and ugly demon. How had all hell suddenly broken loose between lunchtime and now? He urged his horse forward, riding towards the demon and the girl.
"Unhand her, foul beast!"
Sigh. Knightly habits died hard.
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Raoul Ferdinand
Dedicated
King of Prospernalia
Roleplay posts: 235
Physical Description: Tall and lean, with his dark, unkempt hair and dark blue eyes, Raul cuts a striking figure. He has strong, broad shoulders and long limbs, obviously accustomed to hard work.
Clothes and Equipment: He typically wears rough, sturdy clothing, stained with dust from the road, and several days' worth of stubble. Despite this, his equipment is immaculately maintained, the mark of a man that lives and dies by his tools. His primary weapon seems to be a large recurved bow, a composite of horn and wood so powerful that it requires extraordinary strength to string, or even pull. He also carries several harpoons, perhaps for hunting large game. His heavy, scaled armor is woven with protective wards.
Registered: Mar 28, 2017 21:15:23 GMT -8
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Post by Raoul Ferdinand on Apr 6, 2017 12:28:07 GMT -8
And down goes the witch. That was one of their more important assets in this fight. Raoul still wasn’t convinced the third dragon was actually an asset. Or the rampaging berserker. Or… actually, this was kind of a shit-storm all around. The rain was stopping now, clearing visibility, at least. Still moving in the brush and taking cover behind trees, Raoul took shots as they presented themselves. He did his best to try to cover for the few villagers that weren’t already dead or into the woods yet.
That damned demon was chasing down the witch again. “Son of a bitch…” Either he missed, or his arrows didn’t do much against the thing. Even so, the girl was on his side, important, and a pretty girl. He couldn’t just let that pass. He aimed low this time. Even if it didn’t stick, an arrow to the knee could put an armored man on the ground sometimes, and it might buy her enough time to get away. Maybe.
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Lum'Valia
Dedicated
Normally a dragon, sometimes an angel, always good.
Roleplay posts: 325
Age: 1248
Physical Description: 128 feet long from head to tail. Her eyes which are usually half lidded glow silver. Her scales are a bright white that glows with energy and her massive wings are covered in alabaster feathers. She is a dragon so of course, she is unspeakable beautiful like a work of art.
Her voice is a difficult thing to described. It is a languid thing low and sonorous. Each word she speaks seems to be set to some unheard melody and those who hear her voice often get wrapped up in it. It's almost as though everything she says is part of a comforting lullaby from your childhood wrapping you up making you feel safe.
She specializes in light and holy magics, and her breath attack is a torrent of purifying white flame. Her flame attacks not the body but the soul purging and cleansing evil on a spiritual level. Her flame can turn someone who has been led astray back to the path of good and destroy those who are truly evil. She of course also has all the fearsome physical capabilities of her kind.
In her angelic form, she is lovely. Standing at roughly 5'8 with a slim and curvaceous figure. Her skin is a glowing alabaster and she has large wings with ivory feathers. Her hair is a lustrous silver color and spills down to her mid back. Her features are delicate, with high cheek bones, a pert nose, full lips, and beautiful silver eyes. Currently, she is in her human form, which looks identical to her angelic form but with red hair, and eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: Dragons don't need gear.
Registered: Nov 26, 2015 20:26:13 GMT -8
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Post by Lum'Valia on Apr 6, 2017 12:28:53 GMT -8
The demons were spawning faster than she can purge them which meant it was time to take more serious action, to do that though she'd need help. The storm that was keeping the dragon fire down broke which was an issue as it was another thing Lum had to worry about. She sought out the witch who had summoned it and found that the girl was in the hands of the most powerful demonic power source in the fight.
Veering towards the two in the space of a heart beat Lum is above the tableau between Wendy, Kharn, Raoul, and Tom the brave peasant. With a deep breath she lets out another gout of holy flame bathing the entire area in it's light concentrating her attention on the champion. Unlike normal flame holy fire did not burn flesh, it burned the soul. It set fire to evil, anger, greed, and cruelty and seared it away. If it hit by it innocents like Tom and Wendy might feel the pain of some of their darker intentions burning away, for a demonic being like Kharn it would be far less pleasant as he is little more than malice.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 17:04:39 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2017 13:09:57 GMT -8
She clung to Typhus as the ex-gladiator effortlessly carried her, her body warm and soft and shaking slightly as she held onto him, finding a small amount of comfort in the strength of him.
She smelled the change from road to forest, and as they entered the darkness with Ollie following after them, she began to see more clearly. "Typhus, Typhus," Seren said, wiggling in his arms with impatience to be let down. "I can walk. We must wait for Roy!" She insisted.
When she was on her own two booted feet, her skirt swirling around her legs and her long hair flowing around her, she blinked her eyes a couple times and there was a noticable difference in her gaze. The glittering purple depths seemed tk be focusing, albeit squinting.
She greeted Ollie first, and then looked with surprise at Roy as he followed after them into the forest. "You are so young!" She exclaimed.
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Wendy the Witch
Committed
That witchy, twitchy girl
Roleplay posts: 83
Age: 18
Physical Description: Grey hair, pale skin, brown eyes. Short.
Clothes and Equipment: Pictured, as well as a magical bag of holding that carries the other bits and pieces she needs, such as an assortment of books and scrolls, vials and jars, herbs and weeds, dried animal parts, a cauldron, a skull, candles, etc.
Registered: Mar 23, 2017 13:55:25 GMT -8
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Post by Wendy the Witch on Apr 6, 2017 14:04:49 GMT -8
For every cut and jerk that Kharn did upon the vines, they fell away, but another grew. Still, he managed to overwhelm them long enough to catch Wendy with a hard smack to her side. She went flying, the woman against the Champion of Jerkness' massive strength, and she crashed against the wall.
There was a sickening smack as her head bounced against the stone of one of the buildings and her world went black as the witch crumpled into a mess of mud and taffeta, her hat falling from her head as her silver-brown hair covered most of her face, the scent of blood a quiet touch in the air now with the smell of smoke and mud.
The vines regained themselves, however, and they reached out for Kharn, hurtling through the air even as a man tried to come to Wendy's aide -- but the sudden presence of the dragon breathing fire made the vines quickly curl up and away, not wanting to be singed or burned.
The torrential blast of fire and flame from Lum'Valia rained down upon Kharn and Wendy, so bright that it blinded those who looked in their direction.
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Typhus
Dedicated
Protecting his star.
Roleplay posts: 142
Age: Late Teens
Physical Description: About six feet tall with a thin muscular physique, Typhus has been trained to fight since he was young and has his fair share of scars. His oddly white hair and strange golden eyes earn him a lot of looks, as does his oddly long canine teeth. He has an angular face with a strong jaw and straight nose.
Registered: Oct 22, 2016 16:28:04 GMT -8
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Post by Typhus on Apr 6, 2017 14:16:03 GMT -8
Typhus got the edge of the woods before Seren decided to be, well Seren, and he was forced to put her down. He kept her hand clasped in his even though he no longer carried her, ready to pick her up at a moments notice should the need arise.
Roy comes stumbling after them the slower boy looking panicked, Typhus had heard him say they had to help and he didn't even dignify that thought with an answer. The only thing he had to do was keep Seren safe, if he took her into that war zone there was no way he could do that. Now that they were in the relative darkness of the woods Seren could see again and she was surprised by the white haired boy's age. For some reason that made jealousy stir its ugly head in Typhus's chest, then again it seemed every interaction she had with the boy did that.
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Post by Kharn, Champion of Wrath on Apr 6, 2017 14:36:33 GMT -8
Kharn reached Wendy before anyone else, the dragon's fire flowing along his armor as the runes glowed with a brilliant red light, seemingly absorbing the holy fire. Fighting was Kharn's life, and he would not let some cowardly holy dragon fire best him, and the runes in his daemonic armor enabled that. With the fire hiding the pair from view, he made it to Wendy in less than a second, grabbing her as they both disappeared.
Of course, none of that was noticeable to those watching, as the fire had hid them from view. A floating voice would echo through the knight's head, sounding a tad regretful..."Maybe next time honorable knight, duty calls..."
<Exit Kharn with Wendy>
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Royal Fletcher
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,339
Age: 19
Physical Description: Royal is a pale boy with dark bags under his bluish eyes, an unfortunate result of too many days spent staring at books indoors by candlelight. He's thin, of slightly below average height, and has white hair.
Clothes and Equipment: Roy carries around an enchanted parasol at all times, which floats above him and shields him from the sunlight. He also has a sword, a gift from his cousin Roxanne. His pockets are always filled with an unreasonable amount of chocolate, and he usually has some sort of cake or other baked goods on his person.
Allegiances: The Fletcher Family
Player's online availability : Unreasonably often
Registered: Jun 3, 2015 19:45:42 GMT -8
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Post by Royal Fletcher on Apr 6, 2017 14:56:48 GMT -8
Roy hurried up to the pair, glancing around worriedly. What were they doing in the woods? Didn't they know the woods were dangerous? There could be witches, bears, or other frightening things. He smiled at Seren, surprised that she'd regained her sight.
"Oh! I mean, I'm not that young, I just have that kind of face...ok, I am pretty young. What are you two doing here, though? Don't you remember? There's witches in these woods!"
As though on cue, a high-pitched cackle filled the woods, followed by a rustle of leaves and a soft meow.
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Raoul Ferdinand
Dedicated
King of Prospernalia
Roleplay posts: 235
Physical Description: Tall and lean, with his dark, unkempt hair and dark blue eyes, Raul cuts a striking figure. He has strong, broad shoulders and long limbs, obviously accustomed to hard work.
Clothes and Equipment: He typically wears rough, sturdy clothing, stained with dust from the road, and several days' worth of stubble. Despite this, his equipment is immaculately maintained, the mark of a man that lives and dies by his tools. His primary weapon seems to be a large recurved bow, a composite of horn and wood so powerful that it requires extraordinary strength to string, or even pull. He also carries several harpoons, perhaps for hunting large game. His heavy, scaled armor is woven with protective wards.
Registered: Mar 28, 2017 21:15:23 GMT -8
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Post by Raoul Ferdinand on Apr 6, 2017 15:06:16 GMT -8
The flames engulfed both demon and witch, met with a low snarl. When the flames faded, both were gone, leaving no trace of the heroic girl. For some reason, among all the carnage and death, that hit Raoul harder. His vision cleared from the darkness and rain, the hunter glared at the beast. Three dragons. Demons. Chaos and flame and death. And now, Raoul had made his choice. The one, above the others, that must be dealt with. “Fuck you…” He snarls and draws a bead on Lum'Valia , aiming the hollow, barbed arrow at the beast’s eye. “Whatever else happens today, you pay.” All of his focus, all of his skill, narrow to a single point. He draws, sighting down the shaft. He pauses just a moment, ensuring his aim is true. With smooth, careful precision, he releases. Then, he is moving again, dashing from cover to cover while the arrow is still in flight. A new plan slowly beginning to form in his mind. |
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 17:04:39 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2017 15:41:27 GMT -8
At the rush of cackling that filled the woods, Seren stepped closer to Typhus, her hand squeezing his just a little tighter. She looked up and around the canopy of the limbs and tree trunks. Dark would be coming soon, and although Seren was not afraid of the dark --
-- indeed, that was when she was her happiest, her most beautiful, her most carefree --
-- she had very much decided that she did NOT like witches, in the same way that she had once NOT liked boots. In the far distance, the sound of destruction could still be heard as well, and as she usually did, began to glow in the darkness.
"Where do we go?" she asked, and looked to Roy like he was supposed to guide them all. After all, didn't he say this was his hometown?
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Typhus
Dedicated
Protecting his star.
Roleplay posts: 142
Age: Late Teens
Physical Description: About six feet tall with a thin muscular physique, Typhus has been trained to fight since he was young and has his fair share of scars. His oddly white hair and strange golden eyes earn him a lot of looks, as does his oddly long canine teeth. He has an angular face with a strong jaw and straight nose.
Registered: Oct 22, 2016 16:28:04 GMT -8
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Post by Typhus on Apr 6, 2017 17:48:14 GMT -8
Typhus's lips curl and a long low growl emanates from his throat, it is an utterly inhuman noise that would put most people's hair on end. Though the sun hadn't set the moon was beginning to rise and the waning gibbous made his blood boil with power, not as much as a full moon but enough to heighten his senses, make him stronger.
His keen yellow eyes sweep over the darkness as he fights the urge to just scoop up Seren and keep running, she'd be angry if he left stupid Roy behind. Speaking of his gaze narrows on the boy when Seren asks him where they should do he didn't like that either and it irked him that he didn't really know why, beyond the fact that Seren was looking to Roy for guidance and not him. Someone really needed to sit down and have a chat with him and explain to him that he was jealous.
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Lum'Valia
Dedicated
Normally a dragon, sometimes an angel, always good.
Roleplay posts: 325
Age: 1248
Physical Description: 128 feet long from head to tail. Her eyes which are usually half lidded glow silver. Her scales are a bright white that glows with energy and her massive wings are covered in alabaster feathers. She is a dragon so of course, she is unspeakable beautiful like a work of art.
Her voice is a difficult thing to described. It is a languid thing low and sonorous. Each word she speaks seems to be set to some unheard melody and those who hear her voice often get wrapped up in it. It's almost as though everything she says is part of a comforting lullaby from your childhood wrapping you up making you feel safe.
She specializes in light and holy magics, and her breath attack is a torrent of purifying white flame. Her flame attacks not the body but the soul purging and cleansing evil on a spiritual level. Her flame can turn someone who has been led astray back to the path of good and destroy those who are truly evil. She of course also has all the fearsome physical capabilities of her kind.
In her angelic form, she is lovely. Standing at roughly 5'8 with a slim and curvaceous figure. Her skin is a glowing alabaster and she has large wings with ivory feathers. Her hair is a lustrous silver color and spills down to her mid back. Her features are delicate, with high cheek bones, a pert nose, full lips, and beautiful silver eyes. Currently, she is in her human form, which looks identical to her angelic form but with red hair, and eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: Dragons don't need gear.
Registered: Nov 26, 2015 20:26:13 GMT -8
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Post by Lum'Valia on Apr 6, 2017 18:00:03 GMT -8
The holy fire engulfs the two but whatever defenses Kharn had manage to weather her flames, before she can change her method of attack the two vanish. Lum's heart falls when she realizes that the poor girl had been teleported away with the demonic specter and she vowed to track her down and help her... After she did what she could for the village. Suddenly there is a stinging pain in her eye as an arrow strikes her in the soft flesh just around the luminous silver orb. She snorts in distress and tries to blink it out to know avail, who had shot her? One of the demons? No, the arrow didn't carry any demonic taint, so it must be one of the village defenders. That puzzled her, she supposed it could have been an accident as she can think of no reason someone would shoot her on purpose. It was nearly impossible even in this maelstrom of chaos and evil not to recognize her as a force of good, she literally radiated divine peace and love. The arrow stung but not enough to distract her as she took to the air and began a new working. If the demons spawned faster than she could kill them with flame, she'd simply kill them as they spawned. Her thrumming, beautiful voice, pulses from deep within her chest as she begins to sing a holy song.As she makes ever widening circles above the town a circle of concentrated ground begins to grow, it was a simple easy rite any cleric could perform just done on a larger scale with a dragon's power behind it. Any demon caught within in the widening radius of sanctified land would feel a burning sensation that would gradually turning to literal flames the longer they stayed within the village and as the dragoness continues to sing the effects would become more powerful. Additionally, those of good alignment would feel a sense of peace, well being, and certainty that would give a morale boost to aid them in their fight. |
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Gatts
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 26
Physical Description: Gatts stands 6'7", his muscled and scarred body towering over most people. His hair is short, black, and messy as he never gets it cut proper, usually just hacking it off with a knife whenever it gets long. His right eye is missing, lost from an injury years ago, but his left is a bright green. His face is always shaped into a grimaced, angry look despite his emotion. His left hand is missing as well, cut off just below the elbow. He lost it in the same event that lost him his eye.
Clothes and Equipment: Gatts main form of attack is his massive sword. It stands just as tall as himself, being a slab of raw steel on a handle as much as a sword. He uses it to smash and cut his way through anything that tries to stop him. To supplement his sword he also has a number of other tricks up his sleeve. A belt of small throwing knives he is surprisingly accurate with, a dagger he keeps on his thigh for utility as well as attacking, and a small crossbow for anything too far to throw a knife at. His most destructive secondary weapon is definitely his iron left hand. Besides being able to use it to club anyone near him, inside the arm itself is a small single shot canon which at close range can destroy most anything.
As for armor he usually keeps pretty light to stay mobile. He wears a plated chest piece to protect his vitals but has no armor on his arms, keeping them bare and just shin guards on his legs so he can kick things without worrying about breaking a bone. Under the armor he wears simple but well fitting clothes that just about any commoner could get their hands on. He also carries a bag which he keeps any extra supplies in such as food, water, matches, and gunpowder for his hand.
Player's online availability : Most days over the next month. Patchy on my time between semesters.
Registered: Apr 4, 2017 9:33:08 GMT -8
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Post by Gatts on Apr 7, 2017 1:48:12 GMT -8
Gatts smirked and shook his head. "What? Is the big man to afraid to fight one measly human? You think you've got a chance against me? You're just some disgusting monster. I'm a human right down to the marrow of my fuckin bones. You monsters will never understand what it's like to be one of us. Once I kill this little Herald bitch I'll be coming after you."
He charged the significantly larger demon, wasting no time taking a massive swing at his knee. If he could limit his movement then this fight would be a lot easier. He couldn't risk getting hit by that thing's weapon. He wasn't wearing much in the way of armor.
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Ira, Demonlord of Wrath
Committed
Roleplay posts: 62
Age: Ancient
Physical Description: He stands upwards of 20ft tall with bright red, angry skin. Massive muscles dominate his large frame. Unlike many of his fellow demon lords, Ira has no human form, instead, he shrinks down if he needs to interact with the lesser immortals or mortals, or fit through a door without destroying it.
Clothes and Equipment: He wears demonic plate mail (not shown in pic) all the time. It is black in color, with silver highlights. Dried blood is a frequent feature on it as well, the blood of those who make him angry, an easy task to accomplish. He wields a flaming sword, matched by a barbed whip used to retrieve those who attempt to flee after incurring his ire.
Registered: Oct 15, 2016 11:02:32 GMT -8
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Post by Ira, Demonlord of Wrath on Apr 7, 2017 3:52:10 GMT -8
The remaining daemons not watching the duel were banished by the Holy dragon's ever expanding song, the souls they had captured freed from their clutches and escaping to wherever. The remainder were gleefully watching the duel.
They formed a pattern around the pair, slamming their swords in the ground and creating a stadium rune in the ground. This ancient rune prevented any outside interference in the duel until it had concluded, as well as preventing the inhabitants from using magic against one another. The rune had its origins in the tribal days of early humans, amd was used to ensure a fair fight in settling disputes.
The voice of Ira laughed inside Gatts' head, amused by the man's attitude.
"If I wanted you dead, I would have brought you here, but instead I am seeing what you are capable of doing. I have never been a human, but several of my greatest servants used to be."
The Herald blocked the swing with ease, his daemonic blade moving impossibly fast for its size, the Herald's fist coming about to catch Gatts on the side of the head.
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Gatts
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 26
Physical Description: Gatts stands 6'7", his muscled and scarred body towering over most people. His hair is short, black, and messy as he never gets it cut proper, usually just hacking it off with a knife whenever it gets long. His right eye is missing, lost from an injury years ago, but his left is a bright green. His face is always shaped into a grimaced, angry look despite his emotion. His left hand is missing as well, cut off just below the elbow. He lost it in the same event that lost him his eye.
Clothes and Equipment: Gatts main form of attack is his massive sword. It stands just as tall as himself, being a slab of raw steel on a handle as much as a sword. He uses it to smash and cut his way through anything that tries to stop him. To supplement his sword he also has a number of other tricks up his sleeve. A belt of small throwing knives he is surprisingly accurate with, a dagger he keeps on his thigh for utility as well as attacking, and a small crossbow for anything too far to throw a knife at. His most destructive secondary weapon is definitely his iron left hand. Besides being able to use it to club anyone near him, inside the arm itself is a small single shot canon which at close range can destroy most anything.
As for armor he usually keeps pretty light to stay mobile. He wears a plated chest piece to protect his vitals but has no armor on his arms, keeping them bare and just shin guards on his legs so he can kick things without worrying about breaking a bone. Under the armor he wears simple but well fitting clothes that just about any commoner could get their hands on. He also carries a bag which he keeps any extra supplies in such as food, water, matches, and gunpowder for his hand.
Player's online availability : Most days over the next month. Patchy on my time between semesters.
Registered: Apr 4, 2017 9:33:08 GMT -8
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Post by Gatts on Apr 7, 2017 7:14:43 GMT -8
He brought his sword up just in time to block the brunt of the blow. He was thrown to the side but rolled and landed smoothly on his feet again. He was surprised at the speed of the demon but he could handle it. He wouldn't let himself lose. He rushed the demon again, planting his feet solidly on the ground and swinging with his full weight behind his already heavy sword in a massive arc above him and down towards his enemy.
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Wendy the Witch
Committed
That witchy, twitchy girl
Roleplay posts: 83
Age: 18
Physical Description: Grey hair, pale skin, brown eyes. Short.
Clothes and Equipment: Pictured, as well as a magical bag of holding that carries the other bits and pieces she needs, such as an assortment of books and scrolls, vials and jars, herbs and weeds, dried animal parts, a cauldron, a skull, candles, etc.
Registered: Mar 23, 2017 13:55:25 GMT -8
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Post by Wendy the Witch on Apr 7, 2017 7:25:10 GMT -8
All that was left of Wendy in the half-wrecked village of Sugar Hollow was her broken broom stick and her hat, both items lying in the mud, the bows upon them dampened and defeated.
Yet, for anyone watching, they began to shake and tremble. The broom stick pieces began to flip and flop in the mud, coming back together with a glow of green magic until it was whole again, then it floated upright.
The hat twisted and turned in the mud, its bent point straightening itself out until it, too, began to float. Green magic righted its bow so it was correctly in place, and then both items seemed to be...
... To be looking for something. For each other, it seemed, as they finally "saw" each witchy piece and went floating toward each other, turning about each other as if dancing in merriment that neither of them were dead.
Then, Wendy's Hat spun quickly around, mud flying off it to spatter against the wall and Wendy's broom -- which bristled in anger. It shook mud off of itself, then whacked its handle on the hat, who jerked in surprise, only to use the tails of its ribbon like hands to slap the broom handle.
And then, the two witcy items began fighting between other amidst the demons, the dragons, and the destruction.
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