Seralcard
03-13-08, 04:08 PM
Name: Seralcard Rythani
Age: 24
Race: Hyperian, a line of humans that trace their very distant ancestry to dragons.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: A ruby and sapphire starburst pattern which begins as red at the center and shifts to blue at the edges.
Height: 6’0
Weight: 180
Occupation: Mercenary / Assassin
Personality: Part genius, part beast, and part child. Possessing of a keen technical mind but no social skills and a quiet unnerving infatuation with blood and death Seralcard keeps to himself, on the very fringes of society, away from all the people he simply can’t understand. He has a very hazy concept on what is right or what is wrong and he will steal or kill as a means to whatever end he wishes to achieve, from something as important as completing a mission to something as arbitrary as needing a place to sleep. There are few people who are comfortable in his presence or under his piercing gaze, and there was only ever one person who called him a friend. As a side note, Seralcard never removes his mask where people might see him, it leaves him feeling frightened and uncomfortable.
Appearance: Seralcard is clad in a hooded black suit that displays well his lean muscular frame, the lower half of his face masked in crimson cloth, with a red sash around his waist. He wears soft tabi boots for running silently, black gauntlets with clawed fingers, and obsidian platemail arm and shin guards. He can be mistaken for nothing other than what he is, an assassin.
History: His story begins far away from the lands that are known. Born into one of the scattered desert dragon tribes, the Hyperians, Seralcard has little recollection of life with his family. He was always different, marked by ominous signs from the stars since his birth. When he was five his mother, gifted with visions, predicted that one day he would either bring glory or death to their entire clan. In fear of the possibilities of this dark revelation his father took him away, chaining him to a tree alone in the desert far from their tribe, and let the gods decide the boy’s fate.
The gods were far from merciful. On the brink of death Seralcard was found by slavers from the nearby city of Iyanden, a massive sprawling metropolis wracked by strife and controlled by divergent and ruthless warlords. Within the city people lived in poverty and fear, or they rose up upon the agony of those they had to crush beneath them, wrestling a semblance of happiness from their miserable world. But his captivity would not last long as rival bandits ambushed his “rescuers” soon after they arrived, claiming several slaves as their own in the process, killing most and allowing Seralcard to slip away in the confusion.
Hyperians were naturally faster and more powerful than normal humans, however only two attributes of theirs could distinguish them from normal men at a glance, their eyes and slightly pointed teeth. People always feared that which was different, but there was reason to hate the Hyperians who often raided and killed at the edges of the city, monsters that leapt from the desert in the dark of night and pillaged what they would. Seralcard nearly lost his young life on many occasions when he tried to seek help but was recognized as one of his tribe, always paying for the sins of the tribe that had left him to die. He learned to cover his appearance with tattered robes and hoods that shielded his face, learned to survive in the shadows, unnoticed and out of sight. His was a lonely world of silence with only his thoughts to keep him company. And one day he was found.
At ten years of age the orphan was cold and hungry, shivering through alleys in the heaviest rainstorm he could ever remember, when in the darkness of an empty street he stumbled across a man and his own young son, cradling food in their arms from some local shop. The man looked down at him, moving to simply avoid the pathetic shivering boy, and something within him snapped. He leapt upon the man, tackling to the ground while producing a small stone knife he had crafted for his own protection, and he brought the blade raggedly across the surprised victim’s throat. The other boy, a child no older than himself, cried out and caught his attention. Like a serpent he moved from one victim to the next, knocking the other child to the ground and descending on him with the scarlet dagger.
The barren street ran red as the water washed the blood away, with Seralcard kneeling between the two silent forms, all other sounds lost in the roar of the rain. But he stood and left the food where it was, slowly wandering away from the scene as if in a daze. He walked for hours perhaps, lost in self reflection, wondering if this would be his entire life. Wondering if it was a life worth living… He reached a cold desolate stone bridge, one over looking a street far below, and could just barely make out the silhouette of a tall dark figure at the edge, an imagine that disappeared as it leapt over the side. He rushed to where the man had stood, placing his hands on the low stone wall at the edge, and he looked over. Lying still on the cracked concrete so many yards beneath him was the man he had seen, one who would never rise again. It was like an answer had been sent to him from above, he didn’t even have to think about it, he simply climbed up and readied to jump as well, “I wouldn’t do that.” The light matter-of-fact voice surprised him and he turned back to see the speaker, another young boy, one with long silvery hair and pointed ears, “I mean, if you jump now you’ll land right on that other guy, maybe you should move over a little?” it was the first time in a long time Seralcard could remember laughing.
Over the years Seralcard remained with the Elvin boy, another orphan named Altair, and the pair help each other survive. Altair could not remember his own family; only nightmares of some evil claiming his sister, but never anything that helped the two learn what may have happened. Living outside in the shadows of their lawless society the two made a name for themselves, hunting bandits for sport and terrorizing the people, by day the warlords ruled over all, but Altair and Seralcard claimed the depths of night.
At eighteen, after years of growing stronger, fiercer, and colder, Seralcard finally met another Hyperian during one of the tribe’s regular raids, and it was a bloody reunion. He and Altair tortured the man for the better part of three days as they learned where the rest of the tribe would be, and finally Seralcard carved out the man’s heart, leaving it on a pike with his head for the next raid party to find. Over the next four years the two warriors hunted down the rest of the tribe, forcing them to scatter, until only Seralcard’s father remained…
RP Sample
A cloudless night sky bathed the city below in a dim blanket of starlight as a chill wind passed through the streets. The breeze entered the open window of a small, dark, and barren building as the front door opened and a lean muscular man of six feet with dark hair, wearing black jeans and a sleeveless black shirt, stepped inside. His skin was sun darkened and his face was clean shaven, his amethyst eyes glistened slightly as he gazed out into the street briefly before closing the door behind him securely.
He took only two steps into the room before his eyes feel on the far right corner where another pair of eyes, of ruby and sapphire, met his with their familiar cold gaze. Clothed in tattered black robes, with a cloth masking the lower half of his face, the young killer followed Xeradin’s movements through the dark room. Though he was thirty five Xeradin seemed to be in his mid twenties, it was the kind of thing that would make a person doubt that the young man in the room was his son. With each hand he slowly grabbed the dark hilt of a pair of daggers that were hidden behind the small of his back; his voice had the deep commanding tone of a larger man, “Seralcard… When I found your brother dead I knew you would eventually come for my life as well. Know that even if you defeat me my brother and the rest of your siblings will eventually learn, and they will find you now that you have discarded your sacred protections.”
Seralcard narrowed his eyes, lifting his empty hands to show that he meant to fight unarmed, “You may discuss you failings with them at the gates of the afterlife, because that is where they all wait for you.”
Xeradin’s eyes widened at the sincerity in his son’s words, “I am the last…” his eyes narrowed as he eased his blades out of their sheathes, “Come then; face me and pray for the protection of Oblivion, for without it you will not long be for this world”
**
With his revenge complete Seralcard focused solely on helping Altair piece together the puzzle that was his past, but through the years of their friendship they were never truly able to unravel that mystery.
Skills and Abilities Revamp :
-He is skilled in the arts of stealth and silence, coming from nearly two decades of real world practice in the area. (above average)
-His experience lends itself to hand to hand unarmed combat. As an extension of this he often uses gauntlet weaponry. (slightly above average).
-Having spent years crafting his own weapons and armor Seralcard has become adept at blacksmithing. He is still subject to buying (or stealing) the materials and finding a place to work them, he is no miner. (He can craft/repair average level weapons, but will have to gain levels to raise this).
-The abilities of his bloodline are things that will develope with time and training, eventually lending him increasing physical strength and resistances to magic. Currently however he is little stronger than a regular man (1.25x) and has no such resistance. The backdraws to his heritage still apply in full force however, he cannot use spells of any kind and will never gain an ability to do so.
-He does however have a limited ability to enchant weapons and armor that he forges, this ability will grow stronger through levels. Currently he can grant things low level individual elemental resistances (10%) to one of the four elements Water, Wind, Fire, and Earth. He can only grant one type of resistance per item and he cannot combine the elements at this time (meaning that the resistance only covers basic elements and not derivatives like Lightning.)
Equipment
-Beneath his robes Seralcard wears light iron chainmail, meant to help deflect arrows and minor attacks. Offers little protection against heavier weapons like swords, spears, or axes.
-He has heavier steel plated armor in the form of gauntlets and arm guards as well as shin guards, allowing him to block and/or strike weapons with punches and kicks without injury. (His armor is custom tailored to be black, but this affords it no extra strength).
-The fingers of his gauntlets are made like bestial claws and are his primary weapons. His plate armor may be considered secondary weaponry because of his extreme close combat fighting style.
Age: 24
Race: Hyperian, a line of humans that trace their very distant ancestry to dragons.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: A ruby and sapphire starburst pattern which begins as red at the center and shifts to blue at the edges.
Height: 6’0
Weight: 180
Occupation: Mercenary / Assassin
Personality: Part genius, part beast, and part child. Possessing of a keen technical mind but no social skills and a quiet unnerving infatuation with blood and death Seralcard keeps to himself, on the very fringes of society, away from all the people he simply can’t understand. He has a very hazy concept on what is right or what is wrong and he will steal or kill as a means to whatever end he wishes to achieve, from something as important as completing a mission to something as arbitrary as needing a place to sleep. There are few people who are comfortable in his presence or under his piercing gaze, and there was only ever one person who called him a friend. As a side note, Seralcard never removes his mask where people might see him, it leaves him feeling frightened and uncomfortable.
Appearance: Seralcard is clad in a hooded black suit that displays well his lean muscular frame, the lower half of his face masked in crimson cloth, with a red sash around his waist. He wears soft tabi boots for running silently, black gauntlets with clawed fingers, and obsidian platemail arm and shin guards. He can be mistaken for nothing other than what he is, an assassin.
History: His story begins far away from the lands that are known. Born into one of the scattered desert dragon tribes, the Hyperians, Seralcard has little recollection of life with his family. He was always different, marked by ominous signs from the stars since his birth. When he was five his mother, gifted with visions, predicted that one day he would either bring glory or death to their entire clan. In fear of the possibilities of this dark revelation his father took him away, chaining him to a tree alone in the desert far from their tribe, and let the gods decide the boy’s fate.
The gods were far from merciful. On the brink of death Seralcard was found by slavers from the nearby city of Iyanden, a massive sprawling metropolis wracked by strife and controlled by divergent and ruthless warlords. Within the city people lived in poverty and fear, or they rose up upon the agony of those they had to crush beneath them, wrestling a semblance of happiness from their miserable world. But his captivity would not last long as rival bandits ambushed his “rescuers” soon after they arrived, claiming several slaves as their own in the process, killing most and allowing Seralcard to slip away in the confusion.
Hyperians were naturally faster and more powerful than normal humans, however only two attributes of theirs could distinguish them from normal men at a glance, their eyes and slightly pointed teeth. People always feared that which was different, but there was reason to hate the Hyperians who often raided and killed at the edges of the city, monsters that leapt from the desert in the dark of night and pillaged what they would. Seralcard nearly lost his young life on many occasions when he tried to seek help but was recognized as one of his tribe, always paying for the sins of the tribe that had left him to die. He learned to cover his appearance with tattered robes and hoods that shielded his face, learned to survive in the shadows, unnoticed and out of sight. His was a lonely world of silence with only his thoughts to keep him company. And one day he was found.
At ten years of age the orphan was cold and hungry, shivering through alleys in the heaviest rainstorm he could ever remember, when in the darkness of an empty street he stumbled across a man and his own young son, cradling food in their arms from some local shop. The man looked down at him, moving to simply avoid the pathetic shivering boy, and something within him snapped. He leapt upon the man, tackling to the ground while producing a small stone knife he had crafted for his own protection, and he brought the blade raggedly across the surprised victim’s throat. The other boy, a child no older than himself, cried out and caught his attention. Like a serpent he moved from one victim to the next, knocking the other child to the ground and descending on him with the scarlet dagger.
The barren street ran red as the water washed the blood away, with Seralcard kneeling between the two silent forms, all other sounds lost in the roar of the rain. But he stood and left the food where it was, slowly wandering away from the scene as if in a daze. He walked for hours perhaps, lost in self reflection, wondering if this would be his entire life. Wondering if it was a life worth living… He reached a cold desolate stone bridge, one over looking a street far below, and could just barely make out the silhouette of a tall dark figure at the edge, an imagine that disappeared as it leapt over the side. He rushed to where the man had stood, placing his hands on the low stone wall at the edge, and he looked over. Lying still on the cracked concrete so many yards beneath him was the man he had seen, one who would never rise again. It was like an answer had been sent to him from above, he didn’t even have to think about it, he simply climbed up and readied to jump as well, “I wouldn’t do that.” The light matter-of-fact voice surprised him and he turned back to see the speaker, another young boy, one with long silvery hair and pointed ears, “I mean, if you jump now you’ll land right on that other guy, maybe you should move over a little?” it was the first time in a long time Seralcard could remember laughing.
Over the years Seralcard remained with the Elvin boy, another orphan named Altair, and the pair help each other survive. Altair could not remember his own family; only nightmares of some evil claiming his sister, but never anything that helped the two learn what may have happened. Living outside in the shadows of their lawless society the two made a name for themselves, hunting bandits for sport and terrorizing the people, by day the warlords ruled over all, but Altair and Seralcard claimed the depths of night.
At eighteen, after years of growing stronger, fiercer, and colder, Seralcard finally met another Hyperian during one of the tribe’s regular raids, and it was a bloody reunion. He and Altair tortured the man for the better part of three days as they learned where the rest of the tribe would be, and finally Seralcard carved out the man’s heart, leaving it on a pike with his head for the next raid party to find. Over the next four years the two warriors hunted down the rest of the tribe, forcing them to scatter, until only Seralcard’s father remained…
RP Sample
A cloudless night sky bathed the city below in a dim blanket of starlight as a chill wind passed through the streets. The breeze entered the open window of a small, dark, and barren building as the front door opened and a lean muscular man of six feet with dark hair, wearing black jeans and a sleeveless black shirt, stepped inside. His skin was sun darkened and his face was clean shaven, his amethyst eyes glistened slightly as he gazed out into the street briefly before closing the door behind him securely.
He took only two steps into the room before his eyes feel on the far right corner where another pair of eyes, of ruby and sapphire, met his with their familiar cold gaze. Clothed in tattered black robes, with a cloth masking the lower half of his face, the young killer followed Xeradin’s movements through the dark room. Though he was thirty five Xeradin seemed to be in his mid twenties, it was the kind of thing that would make a person doubt that the young man in the room was his son. With each hand he slowly grabbed the dark hilt of a pair of daggers that were hidden behind the small of his back; his voice had the deep commanding tone of a larger man, “Seralcard… When I found your brother dead I knew you would eventually come for my life as well. Know that even if you defeat me my brother and the rest of your siblings will eventually learn, and they will find you now that you have discarded your sacred protections.”
Seralcard narrowed his eyes, lifting his empty hands to show that he meant to fight unarmed, “You may discuss you failings with them at the gates of the afterlife, because that is where they all wait for you.”
Xeradin’s eyes widened at the sincerity in his son’s words, “I am the last…” his eyes narrowed as he eased his blades out of their sheathes, “Come then; face me and pray for the protection of Oblivion, for without it you will not long be for this world”
**
With his revenge complete Seralcard focused solely on helping Altair piece together the puzzle that was his past, but through the years of their friendship they were never truly able to unravel that mystery.
Skills and Abilities Revamp :
-He is skilled in the arts of stealth and silence, coming from nearly two decades of real world practice in the area. (above average)
-His experience lends itself to hand to hand unarmed combat. As an extension of this he often uses gauntlet weaponry. (slightly above average).
-Having spent years crafting his own weapons and armor Seralcard has become adept at blacksmithing. He is still subject to buying (or stealing) the materials and finding a place to work them, he is no miner. (He can craft/repair average level weapons, but will have to gain levels to raise this).
-The abilities of his bloodline are things that will develope with time and training, eventually lending him increasing physical strength and resistances to magic. Currently however he is little stronger than a regular man (1.25x) and has no such resistance. The backdraws to his heritage still apply in full force however, he cannot use spells of any kind and will never gain an ability to do so.
-He does however have a limited ability to enchant weapons and armor that he forges, this ability will grow stronger through levels. Currently he can grant things low level individual elemental resistances (10%) to one of the four elements Water, Wind, Fire, and Earth. He can only grant one type of resistance per item and he cannot combine the elements at this time (meaning that the resistance only covers basic elements and not derivatives like Lightning.)
Equipment
-Beneath his robes Seralcard wears light iron chainmail, meant to help deflect arrows and minor attacks. Offers little protection against heavier weapons like swords, spears, or axes.
-He has heavier steel plated armor in the form of gauntlets and arm guards as well as shin guards, allowing him to block and/or strike weapons with punches and kicks without injury. (His armor is custom tailored to be black, but this affords it no extra strength).
-The fingers of his gauntlets are made like bestial claws and are his primary weapons. His plate armor may be considered secondary weaponry because of his extreme close combat fighting style.