Damion Shargath
08-02-06, 05:34 PM
Name: Damion Shargath
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Age: 19
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 160 pounds
Hair: Dark Brown
Eyes: Distant Grey
Appearance:
Damion Shargath has semi-short mahogany brown hair, which for some reason always stays laid back as if affixed with some sort of gel. Down his keen and actually attractive face runs a series of brutal scars, the largest directly beside his left eye. His upper body is clad in plain, normal, extremely cheap iron chain mail. Covering the cheap iron shirt though, is a high quality multi-plate armor of osmium that is coated in a thin layer of silver. The full torso armor is separated into a multitude of separate plates to supply necessary agility for Damion’s style of combat. His shoulders and arms are also covered by the osmium armor except for miniscule spots between shoulder pad and the continuation of the arm protection – somewhat like a gauntlet. His legs do not carry as heavy a protection, for they are only clad by osmium thigh guards and burgundy linen trousers which “poof” outwards somewhat like pilot-pants before reaching knee guards connecting to the osmium boots. The bottom of the Damion Shargath’s glinting osmium boots is another masterpiece of craftsmanship. Around both the ankle and metatarsus the boot once again turns into an astoundingly brilliant yet small section of multi-plating. The hard leather sole of his boot has been melded and fused to the metal – once more supplying maximum maneuverability for one in such armor.
Beneath his armor Damion Shargath poses to have extremely well defined muscles. Large, strong, and bulky enough to support his armor – yet nimble, slender, and agile enough to allow his very individual style of combat, which is quite the unorthodox yet very effective way to handle a halberd.
Personality:
At first sight one would describe Damion as aloof, intense, impulsive, competitive, devious, cruel, and wicked. He is extremely intelligent yet always ready to laugh almost hysterically at the weaknesses of others without taking his own into perspective – whereas his biggest weakness would probably be the overestimation of his own capabilities. There are practically no limits to his inhumane cruelty, as he seems not to have any bounds that tie him to the slightest ethic or moral norm. Reasons his behavior can be found within his history.
Aside from the aforementioned clearly negative traits, he is quite the contradictory character. Damion Shargath’s most precious talents lie within the field of combat, be it the actual and direct exchange of hits or the development of a larger strategy. A true master of improvisation come it to that. Though, when dwelling in his home he is often found sharpening his skills at cooking, writing/reading, painting, and even playing the piano – definite things one would never expect to see this man do. His intellectual understanding is most impressive, though not many are granted the experience of it. Damion Shargath goes by the alias of “Archon Blightwel” when publishing his paintings, not to mention that Archon Blightwel is one of the most renown artists in the country of Salvar. Damion is certainly not one to satisfy himself with the second best, he aims to achieve the highest goal – and will not stop until he has reached it. A true perfectionist and gourmet, even though it seems all but so at first glance.
More than anything else he enjoys the frosty temperatures, the crisp fresh air, and the isolation Salvar provides whilst detesting the heat found within the many other countries of Althanas.
His catch phrases are:
“You are inferior, die!” or “Your inferior being has contributed nothing to hone my skill, now die for you incompetence.” As a longer version.
Items:
- A pack of cigarettes + matches.
- A thin deck of cards, the pictures on these are rather ominous and intimidating to people who are not all too fascinated by the art of battle and it’s sometimes extremely cruel ways and endings.
Weapons:
Gräuel (abhorrence/anathema). This weapon – plus armor - cost Damion a sum of exactly twenty-five thousand gold pieces, correspondingly high is its quality. The halberd consists fully of osmium and stretches to a complete length of circa 6’8” – the blade being 1’4” of that length (somewhat shorter than the average halberd for increased maneuverability). The blade itself is the finest piece of crafting on this pole-arm, as its edge is fully of serrated black diamond. Something to most certainly mention is also, that the actually expected blunt side of the blade is all but harmless, for from it protrude a pair of slightly curved spikes – also of finely serrated black diamond. Receiving a wound from this weapon, directly to ones flesh, inevitably causes its victim to bleed…
Picture (http://dynastywarriors.neoseeker.com/site_image.php?image_id=535) [Ignore the dragon head, and the fact that it is not serrated. The picture is merely to display the shape of the weapon.]
Magic:
“Is for the inferior ones-“
Skills:
*Masterful Halberd Handling – The fact that Damion Shargath has never cared to attune himself to sorcerous skills whatsoever, he has had the opportunity to undergo specific close combat training with his halberd. Many years of training have made him a true master at handling his halberd.
*High Endurance – Damion can sprint for an extremely long time before showing slightest hints of fatigue, even with his armor on and halberd in hand, this gives him the opportunity to set the pace in battles most of the time.
Specific Information:
- No exhaustion indications (such as heavy respiration) for 30 minutes of extreme activity (Battle/Sprinting/...).
*Falter Resistance – Damion Shargath’s mind appears to be a book with seven seals (translated expression, German: Ein Buch mit Sieben Siegeln.). It is already a great difficulty, for those with the necessary powers, to read his mind – let alone influence it with mind affecting/confusing or vision blurring spells or other such things that result in such a status. He always keeps a clear, cold mind when fighting, always ready to spring back into action and tear his opponent up if he expects no more resistance due to such a disabling spell.
(Resistance at level 2 – even more likely to resist mind affecting spells or objects.)
*High Pain Tolerance – Damion has a rather high pain level, simply meaning he can take more pain that the usual warrior norm. He won’t seem unaffected when something cuts a gash into his stomach and such, but he appears completely unaffected by a punch square in the face or a hard jab in the side. Cuts he can take without a flinch, but when it begins to gash, he will like any other, withdraw slightly, maybe not just as fast as he can suppress pain rather well.
**Unholy Rage – This is a status, similar to some sort of trance, that Damion falls into if he is angered immensely or wounded greatly. His physical attributes multiply in a sense sheer unthinkable to any normal human being. With ease Damion Shargath will be enabled to smash and drive his fist through objects of very dense (hard) material. Damion’s reactions also enhance, basically his entire physical aspect multiplies itself for a certain amount of time. The downside of awakening from this fit of rage when being wounded greatly is that he will then feel the full effect of his wounds, if not more, just as any other human meaning that his actually abnormal pain tolerance will be good for nothing. The result of this could possibly even be fatal depending on the dimension/extent of the damage done to his body.
Characteristic Information:
- It seems that his eyes become glazed with some sort of mucky fluid, almost pitch black of color when he becomes the victim of his rage. Another thing that will increase is his thirst for blood(shed) and his drive for violence which will result in the favoring of using his own body to butcher and dispose of his opponent – rather than using his primary weapon, the halberd.
Specific Information:
- Example of Power: Damion Shargath is, under the effect of “Unholy Rage” able to smash his fist through a basic concrete wall with ease. (as mentioned above)
- Duration: Four posts. Duration and power both increase proportionally with each gained level.
Notes:
(*) = Passive Ability
(**) = Circumstantial Ability
- Damion does not possess a single, truly magical ability. Thus his physical abilities are to be considered above average.
History:
Damion was born into a legendary Salvic army. His childhood was harsh, his youth even worse, always having to perform at his highest level – whilst being hammered with insults and war cries. Never did he receive praise nor approval or warmth from a single person, although he was constantly always roaming the camp and even the battlefield, in his teens, as one of the most talented soldiers of his force. Growing tired and bitter of this treatment he turned into a violent, distancing, and cruel being. The better he became the more he hated the others insolence towards his skills. The more wars he parted in, the more people he killed, the more lives he ruined, the crueler and colder he became. Cruelly executing hostages and helpless peasants in the most violent manners possible to him was daily routine.
The results of his brutal ways pushed him into a web at the line of being expelled from the army, or even executed for the reaping of so many innocent lives. One night as he was wandering through camp, silently listening to every conversation, he realized that he was under the disapproval of almost every single one of his “comrades” and ninety-nine percent of the generals in command. After returning to his quarters in a hasty manner and packing the few belongings he possessed as well as strapping unto himself his armor he managed to leave unnoticed and swore he would return to kill them all one day - with his own army - following his lead, his commands, and his moral standards...
- - -- --- -- - -
It was shortly after leaving the army that Damion had engaged a battle with a most unusual creature. On a vast field he encountered a fallen angel, one who had been cast out of the heavens for her malevolent nature. Believing to have found a worthy adversary, Damion engaged her in single combat. The bout went on for more than an entire day, both slowly being driven to their knees by various injuries. In the twenty-fifth hour, when both had been granted the chance to dispose of the other, neither of them could do it…
The angel believed to have found someone who could save her tortured soul, Damion believed the same about her. Their age did not matter to them, she proved to have the wisdom of at least a thousand years whilst he could only provide that of seventeen. . The young halberdier nourished from her wisdom, lending her his youthful zeal. Needless to say they fell in love they posed a couple most dreadful. Both shared the same misanthropy and abhorrence towards every other living being – but loved each other more than anything else. The angelic being was more than "important" to Damion on a personal level; she was all he had, all he cared for, and all he ever loved. They swore they would never let one another go, and so their lives continued together for another two years.
It was the day before the anniversary of their meeting that Damion was horribly wounded.
The two had ventured to an abandoned temple in the heart of Berevar, a place from whence the deities who were hell-bent on the destruction of the deathly angel drew a large part of their power. After barely surviving an encounter with a sacred behemoth, the gate guard of the temple, Damion was shouldered by his love and aided into the structure. What followed was the most horrid scene in the young halberdier’s life. Not a single war had been so cruel, not a single murder so wicked, that it could even barely compare to what happened that day.
Driven to wipe out the source of energy that rested within the temple, Damion’s love walked to the center of the temple where there floated a globe of some sort. As his soul mate began to summon the strength to deal with the divine source the entire ground began to shake. Unable to clamber to his feet and warn his love, a group of unknown figures began to materialize around her. Fully occupied with the destruction of the divine source, the fallen angel noticed to late what was happening. The transparent figures proved to be avatars of the Althanian deities that she aimed to attack.
Damion’s eyes widened at what he saw, too late to warn his love. After already having absorbed half of the energy source into her darkening heart, she wanted to turn to her lover ensure his wellbeing. Shocked to find his face writhing with agony, an unusual sight not to mention, she wanted to dash towards her battered love. Slowly, after realizing that she was staying put in the exact position, she noticed what was happening. Her gaze dashed about, piercing through the transparent avatars surrounding them. One final glance to her legs and she acknowledged her fear with a shriek. The way Althanian deities dealt with the lives of creatures that posed them a sincere threat was all but humane. Summoning, or better said banishing them into non-existence was the only method they saw fit for such a thing.
Tears began to run from Damion’s cheeks, dropping onto the blood soaked ground below. He wanted to run to his love, grasp her from their divine clutches, but his body wouldn’t react. With bitter moans of despair he watched the only person he ever loved vanish. Her entire body dematerialized from bottom to top, an indescribable pain for both the victim and observer.
“You, Damion, were the only man I ever loved…never forget me…” Were the last whispers of the dying angel to her lover, words he would never be able to forget, words he never wanted to forget.
With a bright flash the very last glint of her eye vanished into thin air. Damion grew quiet, an uncontrollable force rising within him. Blood began to sift from his fists, his broken leg seemingly healed as he climbed to his feet. Every muscle within the broken youngster grew as hard as granite, his eyes glazing over in black. With an enraged cry, louder than that of any beast walking Althanas’s plain, Damion charged forth. His entire body crushed through the altar on which the shrunken globe rested, shattering it. Like a berserker he thrashed his fists through the air, trying to bring down the ghostly avatars who merely laughed at his efforts.
Damion’s soul had been shattered, his heart torn to pieces, his mind driven into an inhuman frenzy. The only thing that could calm the turmoil within the Salvic youngster had been taken from him. From that day on, there was nothing in his world that he hated more than the presence of a sacred being. He swore to avenge his lost love's soul with a thousand gods for each fiber of hair she had.
After spending a crazed three days within the temple halls, beating his fists into everything that represented a divinity his unbridled rage dispersed. As his fists could no longer drive themselves through the brick walls of the vicinity the battered youth crawled unto the courtyard outside. Strengthening himself by eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the slain behemoth it took him a mere account of three days to recover.
With a new goal in life, the man devoid of any positive emotion set out into the world to avenge the life of the one he loved.
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Age: 19
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 160 pounds
Hair: Dark Brown
Eyes: Distant Grey
Appearance:
Damion Shargath has semi-short mahogany brown hair, which for some reason always stays laid back as if affixed with some sort of gel. Down his keen and actually attractive face runs a series of brutal scars, the largest directly beside his left eye. His upper body is clad in plain, normal, extremely cheap iron chain mail. Covering the cheap iron shirt though, is a high quality multi-plate armor of osmium that is coated in a thin layer of silver. The full torso armor is separated into a multitude of separate plates to supply necessary agility for Damion’s style of combat. His shoulders and arms are also covered by the osmium armor except for miniscule spots between shoulder pad and the continuation of the arm protection – somewhat like a gauntlet. His legs do not carry as heavy a protection, for they are only clad by osmium thigh guards and burgundy linen trousers which “poof” outwards somewhat like pilot-pants before reaching knee guards connecting to the osmium boots. The bottom of the Damion Shargath’s glinting osmium boots is another masterpiece of craftsmanship. Around both the ankle and metatarsus the boot once again turns into an astoundingly brilliant yet small section of multi-plating. The hard leather sole of his boot has been melded and fused to the metal – once more supplying maximum maneuverability for one in such armor.
Beneath his armor Damion Shargath poses to have extremely well defined muscles. Large, strong, and bulky enough to support his armor – yet nimble, slender, and agile enough to allow his very individual style of combat, which is quite the unorthodox yet very effective way to handle a halberd.
Personality:
At first sight one would describe Damion as aloof, intense, impulsive, competitive, devious, cruel, and wicked. He is extremely intelligent yet always ready to laugh almost hysterically at the weaknesses of others without taking his own into perspective – whereas his biggest weakness would probably be the overestimation of his own capabilities. There are practically no limits to his inhumane cruelty, as he seems not to have any bounds that tie him to the slightest ethic or moral norm. Reasons his behavior can be found within his history.
Aside from the aforementioned clearly negative traits, he is quite the contradictory character. Damion Shargath’s most precious talents lie within the field of combat, be it the actual and direct exchange of hits or the development of a larger strategy. A true master of improvisation come it to that. Though, when dwelling in his home he is often found sharpening his skills at cooking, writing/reading, painting, and even playing the piano – definite things one would never expect to see this man do. His intellectual understanding is most impressive, though not many are granted the experience of it. Damion Shargath goes by the alias of “Archon Blightwel” when publishing his paintings, not to mention that Archon Blightwel is one of the most renown artists in the country of Salvar. Damion is certainly not one to satisfy himself with the second best, he aims to achieve the highest goal – and will not stop until he has reached it. A true perfectionist and gourmet, even though it seems all but so at first glance.
More than anything else he enjoys the frosty temperatures, the crisp fresh air, and the isolation Salvar provides whilst detesting the heat found within the many other countries of Althanas.
His catch phrases are:
“You are inferior, die!” or “Your inferior being has contributed nothing to hone my skill, now die for you incompetence.” As a longer version.
Items:
- A pack of cigarettes + matches.
- A thin deck of cards, the pictures on these are rather ominous and intimidating to people who are not all too fascinated by the art of battle and it’s sometimes extremely cruel ways and endings.
Weapons:
Gräuel (abhorrence/anathema). This weapon – plus armor - cost Damion a sum of exactly twenty-five thousand gold pieces, correspondingly high is its quality. The halberd consists fully of osmium and stretches to a complete length of circa 6’8” – the blade being 1’4” of that length (somewhat shorter than the average halberd for increased maneuverability). The blade itself is the finest piece of crafting on this pole-arm, as its edge is fully of serrated black diamond. Something to most certainly mention is also, that the actually expected blunt side of the blade is all but harmless, for from it protrude a pair of slightly curved spikes – also of finely serrated black diamond. Receiving a wound from this weapon, directly to ones flesh, inevitably causes its victim to bleed…
Picture (http://dynastywarriors.neoseeker.com/site_image.php?image_id=535) [Ignore the dragon head, and the fact that it is not serrated. The picture is merely to display the shape of the weapon.]
Magic:
“Is for the inferior ones-“
Skills:
*Masterful Halberd Handling – The fact that Damion Shargath has never cared to attune himself to sorcerous skills whatsoever, he has had the opportunity to undergo specific close combat training with his halberd. Many years of training have made him a true master at handling his halberd.
*High Endurance – Damion can sprint for an extremely long time before showing slightest hints of fatigue, even with his armor on and halberd in hand, this gives him the opportunity to set the pace in battles most of the time.
Specific Information:
- No exhaustion indications (such as heavy respiration) for 30 minutes of extreme activity (Battle/Sprinting/...).
*Falter Resistance – Damion Shargath’s mind appears to be a book with seven seals (translated expression, German: Ein Buch mit Sieben Siegeln.). It is already a great difficulty, for those with the necessary powers, to read his mind – let alone influence it with mind affecting/confusing or vision blurring spells or other such things that result in such a status. He always keeps a clear, cold mind when fighting, always ready to spring back into action and tear his opponent up if he expects no more resistance due to such a disabling spell.
(Resistance at level 2 – even more likely to resist mind affecting spells or objects.)
*High Pain Tolerance – Damion has a rather high pain level, simply meaning he can take more pain that the usual warrior norm. He won’t seem unaffected when something cuts a gash into his stomach and such, but he appears completely unaffected by a punch square in the face or a hard jab in the side. Cuts he can take without a flinch, but when it begins to gash, he will like any other, withdraw slightly, maybe not just as fast as he can suppress pain rather well.
**Unholy Rage – This is a status, similar to some sort of trance, that Damion falls into if he is angered immensely or wounded greatly. His physical attributes multiply in a sense sheer unthinkable to any normal human being. With ease Damion Shargath will be enabled to smash and drive his fist through objects of very dense (hard) material. Damion’s reactions also enhance, basically his entire physical aspect multiplies itself for a certain amount of time. The downside of awakening from this fit of rage when being wounded greatly is that he will then feel the full effect of his wounds, if not more, just as any other human meaning that his actually abnormal pain tolerance will be good for nothing. The result of this could possibly even be fatal depending on the dimension/extent of the damage done to his body.
Characteristic Information:
- It seems that his eyes become glazed with some sort of mucky fluid, almost pitch black of color when he becomes the victim of his rage. Another thing that will increase is his thirst for blood(shed) and his drive for violence which will result in the favoring of using his own body to butcher and dispose of his opponent – rather than using his primary weapon, the halberd.
Specific Information:
- Example of Power: Damion Shargath is, under the effect of “Unholy Rage” able to smash his fist through a basic concrete wall with ease. (as mentioned above)
- Duration: Four posts. Duration and power both increase proportionally with each gained level.
Notes:
(*) = Passive Ability
(**) = Circumstantial Ability
- Damion does not possess a single, truly magical ability. Thus his physical abilities are to be considered above average.
History:
Damion was born into a legendary Salvic army. His childhood was harsh, his youth even worse, always having to perform at his highest level – whilst being hammered with insults and war cries. Never did he receive praise nor approval or warmth from a single person, although he was constantly always roaming the camp and even the battlefield, in his teens, as one of the most talented soldiers of his force. Growing tired and bitter of this treatment he turned into a violent, distancing, and cruel being. The better he became the more he hated the others insolence towards his skills. The more wars he parted in, the more people he killed, the more lives he ruined, the crueler and colder he became. Cruelly executing hostages and helpless peasants in the most violent manners possible to him was daily routine.
The results of his brutal ways pushed him into a web at the line of being expelled from the army, or even executed for the reaping of so many innocent lives. One night as he was wandering through camp, silently listening to every conversation, he realized that he was under the disapproval of almost every single one of his “comrades” and ninety-nine percent of the generals in command. After returning to his quarters in a hasty manner and packing the few belongings he possessed as well as strapping unto himself his armor he managed to leave unnoticed and swore he would return to kill them all one day - with his own army - following his lead, his commands, and his moral standards...
- - -- --- -- - -
It was shortly after leaving the army that Damion had engaged a battle with a most unusual creature. On a vast field he encountered a fallen angel, one who had been cast out of the heavens for her malevolent nature. Believing to have found a worthy adversary, Damion engaged her in single combat. The bout went on for more than an entire day, both slowly being driven to their knees by various injuries. In the twenty-fifth hour, when both had been granted the chance to dispose of the other, neither of them could do it…
The angel believed to have found someone who could save her tortured soul, Damion believed the same about her. Their age did not matter to them, she proved to have the wisdom of at least a thousand years whilst he could only provide that of seventeen. . The young halberdier nourished from her wisdom, lending her his youthful zeal. Needless to say they fell in love they posed a couple most dreadful. Both shared the same misanthropy and abhorrence towards every other living being – but loved each other more than anything else. The angelic being was more than "important" to Damion on a personal level; she was all he had, all he cared for, and all he ever loved. They swore they would never let one another go, and so their lives continued together for another two years.
It was the day before the anniversary of their meeting that Damion was horribly wounded.
The two had ventured to an abandoned temple in the heart of Berevar, a place from whence the deities who were hell-bent on the destruction of the deathly angel drew a large part of their power. After barely surviving an encounter with a sacred behemoth, the gate guard of the temple, Damion was shouldered by his love and aided into the structure. What followed was the most horrid scene in the young halberdier’s life. Not a single war had been so cruel, not a single murder so wicked, that it could even barely compare to what happened that day.
Driven to wipe out the source of energy that rested within the temple, Damion’s love walked to the center of the temple where there floated a globe of some sort. As his soul mate began to summon the strength to deal with the divine source the entire ground began to shake. Unable to clamber to his feet and warn his love, a group of unknown figures began to materialize around her. Fully occupied with the destruction of the divine source, the fallen angel noticed to late what was happening. The transparent figures proved to be avatars of the Althanian deities that she aimed to attack.
Damion’s eyes widened at what he saw, too late to warn his love. After already having absorbed half of the energy source into her darkening heart, she wanted to turn to her lover ensure his wellbeing. Shocked to find his face writhing with agony, an unusual sight not to mention, she wanted to dash towards her battered love. Slowly, after realizing that she was staying put in the exact position, she noticed what was happening. Her gaze dashed about, piercing through the transparent avatars surrounding them. One final glance to her legs and she acknowledged her fear with a shriek. The way Althanian deities dealt with the lives of creatures that posed them a sincere threat was all but humane. Summoning, or better said banishing them into non-existence was the only method they saw fit for such a thing.
Tears began to run from Damion’s cheeks, dropping onto the blood soaked ground below. He wanted to run to his love, grasp her from their divine clutches, but his body wouldn’t react. With bitter moans of despair he watched the only person he ever loved vanish. Her entire body dematerialized from bottom to top, an indescribable pain for both the victim and observer.
“You, Damion, were the only man I ever loved…never forget me…” Were the last whispers of the dying angel to her lover, words he would never be able to forget, words he never wanted to forget.
With a bright flash the very last glint of her eye vanished into thin air. Damion grew quiet, an uncontrollable force rising within him. Blood began to sift from his fists, his broken leg seemingly healed as he climbed to his feet. Every muscle within the broken youngster grew as hard as granite, his eyes glazing over in black. With an enraged cry, louder than that of any beast walking Althanas’s plain, Damion charged forth. His entire body crushed through the altar on which the shrunken globe rested, shattering it. Like a berserker he thrashed his fists through the air, trying to bring down the ghostly avatars who merely laughed at his efforts.
Damion’s soul had been shattered, his heart torn to pieces, his mind driven into an inhuman frenzy. The only thing that could calm the turmoil within the Salvic youngster had been taken from him. From that day on, there was nothing in his world that he hated more than the presence of a sacred being. He swore to avenge his lost love's soul with a thousand gods for each fiber of hair she had.
After spending a crazed three days within the temple halls, beating his fists into everything that represented a divinity his unbridled rage dispersed. As his fists could no longer drive themselves through the brick walls of the vicinity the battered youth crawled unto the courtyard outside. Strengthening himself by eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the slain behemoth it took him a mere account of three days to recover.
With a new goal in life, the man devoid of any positive emotion set out into the world to avenge the life of the one he loved.