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Jim_Davison

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Jim's Characters
« on: December 25, 2008, 06:08:23 PM »
Race:  Human, Mage.
Age:  28.
Alignment:  Good.  Bitter and jaded...but good.
Gender:  Male.
Hair Colour and Style:  Dark brown, with a choppy, unkept look to it.
Eye Colour:  Grey.
Ht. & Wt.:  6'1", 170lbs.
Identifying Marks:  Four vicious scars across where his left eye once was, covered by a simple black eyepatch.
General Appearance:  Somewhat broad of shoulder, with a well defined build.  His life over the past few years has been a hard one, earning him well more then his fair share of scars, anything from bullets and fire, to claws and teeth marks.  The scar over his eye, although his excuse is a lynx attack as a child, seems just a bit too widely spaced, a bit too deep for such a wound, hinting it is likely from something else.  A hand perhaps?
His one remaining eye is a cold, shallow grey, unsettling to look at once one realizes just how...off it seems.  Strong emotions are mirrored with subtle movement and coloration in his eye, always shades of grey, like turbulent storm clouds when he's angry or more subtle light grey of a dreary afternoon when calm.  There's a hint of a deep wound there, that he hasn't yet gotten over, some dark moment from his past that still haunts him.
He wears a dark brown leather aviator jacket that's seen better days.  A bit threadbare in places, and sporting dozens of patches to cover holes, plenty of surgical grade stitching to repair cuts and tears.  Sturdy, if somewhat worn out, hiking boots, dark khakis cargo pants, and a simple grey t-shirt, with a dark brown fedora.
Background:  Jim's a Mage.  He Awakened to his ability while he was still in high school, nearly thirteen years ago when he still lived in Canada.  He never really read much into it, accepting it as just a cool ability, with no consequences.  He never joined the formal groups and clans, preferring to stay on his own, out of their little wars and conflicts.  Until one day, things went bad.  He was a few months shy of graduating from Medical School when his life was destroyed.  Vampires killed his Cable, or Embraced some.  He fled.  Over the following weeks of cat and mouse, Jim came into his abilities quite well, always managing to escape alive, to survive terrible wounds.  Gun shots, broken arm, his eye ripped from his face, stabbings, fires.  And then one day, the Backlash caught up to him.  He spent what felt like months in a Paradox Realm, unaging, coming to grips with his abilities.  And then one day, he returned.
There's little to say of his life.  He lives it one day at a time, often on the search for a new part time or temp job, a place to stay.  He often takes on dangerous tasks from the more organized councils and organizations these days, anything that'll send him into something dangerous and always against something the world is better off without.  He's grown quite adept at fighting, and surviving, by himself.  He's learned not to rely on anyone, ever, but also to never let anyone down.  A martyr, self-sacrificing to the end, and a Loner, hell bent to do it all himself.
Pets:  A Familiar, an albino ferret named Shadow.  Definently more sociable then he is, the little bugger gladly basks in the attention of others, since he never gets any from Jim.  Great at pest control in seedy apartments.  Shadow is surprisingly intelligent and certainly more boon then bane to Jim's life, encouraging him to interact with people or even trying to curb his attitude around others.
Special Abilities:  The ability to twist reality to his will!  In a limited sense...with reality often getting revenge on him later.  Only sleeps for two hours a night, his unusually acute sight and depth perception despite having only one eye.  Highly resistant to pain and blood loss, although he's still just a fleshy, fragile little human.  He's just too bloody stubborn to die.  He strength of will and bullheaded stubborness finds him shaking off mind influencing effects and fear like American beer.
Weapons:  A silver Klaive, earned in a duel a few years back.  His jacket's mundane signature has been reinforced with arcane energy, granting him additional protection from attacks.  Not quite enough to stop a bullet, but takes most of the force out of it.  He has an interesting knack at finding or acquiring fire arms when he might need them.
Personality:  Bitter, jaded, cold and self-absorbed.  Or so he seems at first glance anyways.  Sure, he prefers to do everything himself, and never trusts anyone else to do anything dangerous.  It's actually because he's too protective of others.  He's single.  Always been single.  Always will be single.  He has an almost..brotherly air about him, something that just seems to turn women off from thinking of him in 'that way.'
« Last Edit: December 26, 2008, 12:31:28 PM by Jim_Davison »

Jim_Davison

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Re: Jim's Characters
« Reply #1 on: December 25, 2008, 11:37:07 PM »
(Warhammer 40,000)
Name: Trooper Durrien Johnson.
Race: Human, Cadian.
Age: 19
Alignment: Good.
Gender: Male.
Hair Colour and Eyes: Buzz-cut brown hair.
Eye Colour: Dark green.
Ht. & Wt.: 5
« Last Edit: December 25, 2008, 11:48:16 PM by Jim_Davison »

Jim_Davison

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Re: Jim's Characters
« Reply #2 on: December 25, 2008, 11:39:37 PM »
(Wheel of Time)
Name: Byron.
Nationality: Andoran/Midlander.
Age: 27.
Gender: Male.
General Appearance: Boyishly handsome and always smiling, he has soft brown eyes and well kept long black hair worn in a simple ponytail reaching to mid back. He favours fine clothes, usually in dark colours which help define his physique. Supple leather boots that reach half way to his knee, the tops folded out to reveal a softer brown interior, with snug fitting breeches that do well to show off the turn of his calf and well defined legs. A simple white tunic, unlaced from mid chest to neck, and a simple black coat that is rarely ever buttoned up. Soft blue eyes, well offset by his dark clothes and hair, and a simple, if often unkept, goatee.
Background: Byron fills an odd niche amongst his fellow Gaiden. While just as skilled as the next in battle, his true worth as a Warder is his ability to get into nearly anywhere without undue difficulty. From infiltration and stealth, to bluff and charisma, he makes a grand spy and can even disarm tense situations well enough. While he excels in urban stealth and social situations, he

Jim_Davison

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Re: Jim's Characters
« Reply #3 on: December 25, 2008, 11:47:22 PM »
Name:  Darkonta ShadowSoul
Race:  --
Age:  Mid-to-late 200's.
Gender:  Male.
Identifying Marks:  Lanky white hair,
General Appearance:  Darkonta strikes a pitiful appearance; slender from years of malnourishment, pale from long hours spent working his trade.  Over two centuries living in the Badlands with little for company asides his constructs and what unnatural beasts he has conscripted or bent to his will has left him with an unpleasant demeanor which is readily apparent in his cold blue eyes.  He has a penchant of heavy, warm robes in part for warding off the preternatural chill of his Tower, and for the abundance of hiding places for a variety of odds and ends he keeps close to himself at all times.
Background:  Once upon a time, Darkonta was known by a different name, although he was much too young to have ever appreciated it.  He was the son of a young Witch, a comely woman who's skills in a few simple offensive rotes of lesser magic had earned her a well deserved name as an expensive mercenary.  If he had stayed with his mother, Darkonta likely never would have realized his full potential as a Wizard, most likely to wind up as little more then a mediocre Watch at best, plying his trade as a mercenary for small caravans, following in his mother's foosteps.  Lucky for him, she died.
When he was barely ten years old, he was travelling with his mother as he always did.  She had been hired on to escort a large caravan through the southern regions of Zheir, an expansive desert 'kingdom'; dozens of wagons loaded with precious metals, rare wines, and a variety of other fineries.  The attack came in the middle of the day, of all things, while the caravan was busy crossing a wide, shallow and fast moving river at a narrow ford.  He didn't remember much of what happened; wagons on fire, people screaming and dying all around him.  His mother single-handedly slew two man-like creatures that seemed to be leading the attack, and the other guards rallied quickly at her back to start pushing the enemy away.
Then a new threat appeared, a Wizard, full bore magical prowess against her pitiful Witch spells.  The fight was longer then the dark Wizard had expected, but in the end the boy's mother fell.  He was a foolish child, full of wasteful emotions and he rushed forwards to his fallen mother as the Wizard and his beasts pressed the attack.  It was over quickly then; everything was silent save for the roar of the fires and the sobs of a petulent child over his mother's cooling corpse.
Having lost his two favorite pets, creatures that had been like sons to him (or, quite possibly, where his sons) the Wizard decided to take this child as his own.  As a pet, to replace those he had lost.  The Wizard had a name, of course; it took the boy nearly a hundred years to learn that though.  His first century of service and experimentation he had been allowed only to refer to his care-taker as Master.  The following century was one lived as Apprentice, slowly earning greater priveledge and trust from his aging instructor.  And the day the boy surpased Darkonta ShadowSoul, he proved his power in a duel with his would-be Master.  In the aftermath, only the boy still stood, grinning mischeviously as he gazed into a crystal ball, where he had trapped the collective intelligence of the man who's identity he now would assumed.
Darkonta ShadowSoul spent most of his next many years asserting his control over what had once been his Master's small realm, a few hundred square miles of Badlands centered around a Tower of unknown origins, destroying what creations refused to give their loyalty over to him.  Dozens of warped souls were gathered in this reaping for him to experiment on, finding new and more creative ways of binding them to objects until finally his greatest creation was formed; an animate suit of armour, intelligent and loyal only to him.  It would be the first of his army, to replace the warped and twisted beasts his predecessor had been so proud of.
Of course, to experiment, he'd need subjects, and to gain subjects...raids were sent into Zhier every few years; small groups to capture a few slaves here and there.  Not so many as to draw any real notice, just enough to keep him supplied with enough supplies to continue his work.  What started as one, now numbered nearly two dozen, and these days Darkonta enjoys a modicum of luxury in his secret Tower in the festering wastes of the Badlands.  Fine furnitures, elegant wall hangings.  Even a few slaves of his own, only the lovliest of the slaves taken by his soldiers; they too were the focus of experiments, of course, fine-tuning some of the previous ShadowSoul's work on longevity and servitude; mostly mindless servants good for little other then looking good and cleaning.
Pets:  Various Badland creatures that have proven useful in their loyalty and stupidity, two-score of his prized animated armours, and a handful of mindless slaves.
Weapons:  He makes a point of relying almost solely on his magics, but like any smart man he always makes of point of having a dagger or two about his person...laced with only the most brutal of poisons, of course.
Personality:  Needless to say, Darkonta is a wicked and shallow man.  He looks upon those dwelling in the prestigious academies of magic as pitiful fools distracted with their own pleasures and the endless struggle for power and control.  He, of course, is rather hypocrital in this belief.  He's a sinister fellow, under handed and quick to anger; vindictive and with a well-earned reputation of being without mercy.

Jim_Davison

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Re: Jim's Characters
« Reply #4 on: December 25, 2008, 11:50:17 PM »
Name:  Bryce Karllandren.
Race:  Human.
Age:  25.
Alignment:  Good.
Hair Colour and Style:  Short dirty blond.
Gender:  Male.
Ht. & Wt.: 5'6", 150lbs.
Identifying Marks:  A scattering of old war wounds, hidden under his clothes.
General Appearance:  
Background:  Young Bryce is the last surviving member of a little-known Knighthood favoured by the young sons of Nobility.  Oath bound to uphold their beliefs of honour and chivalry as only the young can, the group was well known for being well equiped but poorly trained, more prone to lounging and drinking then to actually righting the world's wrongs.
The Knights of the Dawn's reputation for harmless arrogance changed quickly with the onset of a brutal and grueling war between the Dales, a series of loosely related counties and city states that was their homeland, and the Imperial might of the Draggendan Empire.  Absent from the crushing defeat of the Dale's combined armies in the first days of the war, they fought a long and grueling battle of attrition in which two thirds of their numbers lay dead amongst ten-fold their count at the Alganiase Ford, a natural choke point; their stand allowed the remnants of the Dale forces to escape and regroup.
Eventually over run, the surviving members began a series of daring and brutal raids, ambushes, and hit-and-run tactics that caused great distress and damage to the Imperial forces, earning the nickname of 'Ghosts of the Dawn', for they left no dead or wounded comrades behind, and grew quite skilled at hiding their tracks and masking their approach.
By the end of the war, the Dales had pushed the frontlines back to the original borders, and the Imperial forces were forced to sign a treaty as they in turn were invaded by other enemy states, bringing an end to the conflict.  Now he travels the lands, seeking a purpose to his life or a good place to give his life to rejoin his friends in the after life.
Having ended the war at their own borders, the larger and more powerful Draggendan Empire painted their own beliefs onto the entire spirit of the war.  Beyond the borders of the two regions, it is common belief that the Dales were the aggressors, that the Imperial forces attack had been brought on through treachery and underhanded raids by the weaker Dales.  The Ghosts of the Dawn are not beloved war heroes, but rather the stuff of fireside stories the type told children by their mothers to keep them out of trouble.
Despite this, Bryce makes no effort of hiding his past, which often sees him run out of town, or at least shunned and distrusted for his 'war crimes.'
Pets:  His warhorse, Longstep.
Special Abilities:  None.
Weapons:  Longbow, bastard sword.
Personality:  Being the last survivor of what had once been a hundred-strong, close-knit circle of fellow Knights, Bryce is polite but distant.  He`s confident, especially around women, but seems uninterested in settling down.  His sole, unspoken purpose for his travels is simply to find a cause worthy enough to lay his life down for; he wishes to join his brothers in the afterlife, but does not want to go cheaply.

 

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