Gnosis
03-29-06, 10:44 PM
Name: ‘Uriel’
Age: ?
Gender: Male
Race: Lor
Description Uriel is, by far, incredibly handsome in a boyish way. Though he has to be very old, he appears only to be in teens, though his eyes reveal the nature of his knowledge. His blond hair, long enough to come down to the middle of his eyes, is constantly lit by a dim halo that hovers behind his head. On his back, a pair of enormous fully functional white wings is folded against his skin, ready to be deployed. When outstretched, they reach five feet in either direction. He wears clothing that resembles nothing found in any mortal fashion, which cannot be described twice by many people due to the massive amount of detail put in it. It has a very unreal aspect to it, and is mainly in tones of blue and black. Strapped to his back is a sword with blue metal that is also nearly indescribable in its detail, and is almost as large as he. The blade is, however, wrapped in a black cloth that extends all the way down the blade and not a single bit of its awesome design can be viewed. Even the hilt, oddly enough, is wrapped.
Weapons:
The Anathema: An ancient broadsword that is strapped to his back. This is a weapon of legendary power, but Uriel has absolutely no clue how to use it. For him, it is a giant chunk of useless metal. If he tries to wield it, it begins to suck the energy from his body until he either falls unconscious or dies. While strapped on his back, it stays dormant for reasons unknown to the Lor. There is no way, even by chance, that Uriel could unlock even a thousandth of its power in battle.
Simple Broadsword: A simple broadsword, much smaller and less ornate then the Anathema, that is held in a simple sheath on his waist. It is made of iron and is about four and a half feet long.
Armor:
Garb of the Scion: Though his armor looks incredibly fancy, it is not very strong at all. In fact, at this point, it is no better then cloth. However, whenever the armor is touched by moonlight at full moon it will repair itself fully, though it takes some time.
Abilities:
Lorin Grace: The Lorin people have a very powerful, quick, and graceful method of moving, fighting, and even talking. They are slightly stronger then average humans, quicker, and much more graceful. However, their main downfall is that they are prideful, and believe themselves better then the other races. This often gets them into most of their brawls. Though they never show emotions on their mute faces, they have a wider range of emotions then most mortal creatures. The rest of their physique is similar to humans.
Proficiencies:
-Swordsmanship: Uriel is decent with his broadsword, and can, if given the chance, beat someone in a duel if he is smart enough to get the upper hand. However, he will always have to try to use his wits to get himself out of a situation, for his actual skill isn’t too great yet. His secondary trickster style of swordsmanship, that he uses when bored and not serious about a battle, is incredibly fancy but very inefficient. The talent he shows in this style, however, often scares less intelligent beings off.
-Lorin Grant: If a Lor decides to, they reach gather their own energies and transfer them into another person, healing their wounds. However, it is an equivalent trade. The amount of energy it would of taken that person’s body to heal a would is exactly how much energy will be removed from the Lor. The only thing changed will be the person who gets drained, and the time it takes to heal. Vampires, for example, can be effected by this ability but it will take less energy on the Lor’s side to heal if the creature has vampiric regeneration.
-Flight: Due to being born with wings, all Lor can fly for up to one or two hours a day before tiring, depends on how high he goes and how often he drifts [2 posts in quest, 1 in battle; however he must start at a high point else he cannot fly very far]. They can reach the upper atmosphere before being effected by the thin oxygen, and can recover from high falls by using their wings to glide. Their wings have regenerative capabilities far beyond the rest of their body, and can be fully recovered within a day. This is a survival trait that all Lor inherit.
-Adept: Lor have an incredible ability to learn. They can master a skill quickly if they put their mind to it. For this reason, most Lor know hundreds of languages and are often ambassadors between races.
History: {Sorry for the weak history, it is a bit forced. Definitely not my best writing}
“Lor, step forward and choose your name.”
This was the day, unlike any day that had come before or any dawn that shall rise again, nor any dusk that will set hereafter. This was the hour in which a new Lor stepped forth and was given the ability to become an adult, having passed the trials of childhood. The unlighted Lor would then gain their halo, and advance their age to whatever they wished. For an Adult was allowed to appear as anything they desired, but they could only do so on this one-day. The young Lor selected had only lived for 86 years, a very young age for one to be chosen for Adulthood.
Stepping forth, his eyes glanced past the Counselor that stood above him and at the case behind the man. The cherry grove that surrounded the ceremonial altar was shedding its white Yoshiro petals for this very occasion, but not a single one had come near that case. The sword, which was wrapped in black cloth and nobody dared touch, emitted a powerful force of both good and evil that many misunderstood what it represented. None of them knew what it really could be used for, as the boy thought, for he believed himself to be the true owner of it. Behind the upright standing weapon, was the armor that accompanied it, also a mystery within itself. To any who wielded it, that armor and weapon would be useless, and one would have to born to own it, not simply pick it up off the street. This boy, however, was about to risk everything to see if he was the owner.
As he stood, stepping in front of the Counselor that held all of the power in the Lor, he spoke his name. The reaction was expected, as a shockwave of disgust and apprehension sped across the crowd before him. The Counselor’s face contorted first in shock, then fear, and finally rage. The blade that had been placed on one shoulder of the boy was about to be drawn away but could not be in time, for the child reached forward and twisted it from the Counselor’s grasp. In a felling strike, blood splattered the ceremonial long sword and was released, the boy turning to face his race. Such treachery was unheard of in the pristine race of the Lor, and as they watched him stretch out his arms and ascend, the halo forming behind his head and his age becoming that of an adult, the horror of this moment solidified. In the moments that it took them to comprehend the child’s actions, he had already strode to the case and broken it with a well-aimed fist. Placing one hand on the armor, it felt the urge to be worn and become a blue aura of energy, melding onto the boy’s skin. Solidifying there, just as the fear and hatred became a solid force of will from the crowd below, the boy grasped the covered blade and placed it on his back, between his wings.
Standing above his entire race, he stood on the bloodied altar that had seen not tribute, but sacrifice in this hour, the boy spoke.
“You all heard my name, and it is Uriel. I take not the name of a boy, nor a man, but of a legend. A legend that all of you cast down, spitting his name as if it was some fowl disease. I know what we are, and what our destiny in. We are but transient guests, and it is our time to fade. I am taking the Anathema with me, the Scion of Destiny. Do not try to stop me, for I do not want to kill any more.”
That, however, was unlikely to happen. Unarmed and unprepared, the crowd of Lor one by one were cast down by the simple broadsword in the hand of a vengeful Uriel. Having destroyed half of his race, he felt ashamed, yet bitter that they had forced him to such heights. It was the legend of Uriel to be an avatar of Duality, performing both good and evil deeds in one stride. The new descendant of the namesake, however, hoped with all his heart that he had done good. The Lor were a plague on Althanas, and now he was among the last.
Escaping from the temple, and his homeland, he managed to leave some alive in hopes that his race would live on. Many children would never receive adulthood, nor choose their name, and would die as children still. Burdened by the weight of his deeds, he moved into the mortal world, hoping to accomplish what little good could be left of destroying a race.
Age: ?
Gender: Male
Race: Lor
Description Uriel is, by far, incredibly handsome in a boyish way. Though he has to be very old, he appears only to be in teens, though his eyes reveal the nature of his knowledge. His blond hair, long enough to come down to the middle of his eyes, is constantly lit by a dim halo that hovers behind his head. On his back, a pair of enormous fully functional white wings is folded against his skin, ready to be deployed. When outstretched, they reach five feet in either direction. He wears clothing that resembles nothing found in any mortal fashion, which cannot be described twice by many people due to the massive amount of detail put in it. It has a very unreal aspect to it, and is mainly in tones of blue and black. Strapped to his back is a sword with blue metal that is also nearly indescribable in its detail, and is almost as large as he. The blade is, however, wrapped in a black cloth that extends all the way down the blade and not a single bit of its awesome design can be viewed. Even the hilt, oddly enough, is wrapped.
Weapons:
The Anathema: An ancient broadsword that is strapped to his back. This is a weapon of legendary power, but Uriel has absolutely no clue how to use it. For him, it is a giant chunk of useless metal. If he tries to wield it, it begins to suck the energy from his body until he either falls unconscious or dies. While strapped on his back, it stays dormant for reasons unknown to the Lor. There is no way, even by chance, that Uriel could unlock even a thousandth of its power in battle.
Simple Broadsword: A simple broadsword, much smaller and less ornate then the Anathema, that is held in a simple sheath on his waist. It is made of iron and is about four and a half feet long.
Armor:
Garb of the Scion: Though his armor looks incredibly fancy, it is not very strong at all. In fact, at this point, it is no better then cloth. However, whenever the armor is touched by moonlight at full moon it will repair itself fully, though it takes some time.
Abilities:
Lorin Grace: The Lorin people have a very powerful, quick, and graceful method of moving, fighting, and even talking. They are slightly stronger then average humans, quicker, and much more graceful. However, their main downfall is that they are prideful, and believe themselves better then the other races. This often gets them into most of their brawls. Though they never show emotions on their mute faces, they have a wider range of emotions then most mortal creatures. The rest of their physique is similar to humans.
Proficiencies:
-Swordsmanship: Uriel is decent with his broadsword, and can, if given the chance, beat someone in a duel if he is smart enough to get the upper hand. However, he will always have to try to use his wits to get himself out of a situation, for his actual skill isn’t too great yet. His secondary trickster style of swordsmanship, that he uses when bored and not serious about a battle, is incredibly fancy but very inefficient. The talent he shows in this style, however, often scares less intelligent beings off.
-Lorin Grant: If a Lor decides to, they reach gather their own energies and transfer them into another person, healing their wounds. However, it is an equivalent trade. The amount of energy it would of taken that person’s body to heal a would is exactly how much energy will be removed from the Lor. The only thing changed will be the person who gets drained, and the time it takes to heal. Vampires, for example, can be effected by this ability but it will take less energy on the Lor’s side to heal if the creature has vampiric regeneration.
-Flight: Due to being born with wings, all Lor can fly for up to one or two hours a day before tiring, depends on how high he goes and how often he drifts [2 posts in quest, 1 in battle; however he must start at a high point else he cannot fly very far]. They can reach the upper atmosphere before being effected by the thin oxygen, and can recover from high falls by using their wings to glide. Their wings have regenerative capabilities far beyond the rest of their body, and can be fully recovered within a day. This is a survival trait that all Lor inherit.
-Adept: Lor have an incredible ability to learn. They can master a skill quickly if they put their mind to it. For this reason, most Lor know hundreds of languages and are often ambassadors between races.
History: {Sorry for the weak history, it is a bit forced. Definitely not my best writing}
“Lor, step forward and choose your name.”
This was the day, unlike any day that had come before or any dawn that shall rise again, nor any dusk that will set hereafter. This was the hour in which a new Lor stepped forth and was given the ability to become an adult, having passed the trials of childhood. The unlighted Lor would then gain their halo, and advance their age to whatever they wished. For an Adult was allowed to appear as anything they desired, but they could only do so on this one-day. The young Lor selected had only lived for 86 years, a very young age for one to be chosen for Adulthood.
Stepping forth, his eyes glanced past the Counselor that stood above him and at the case behind the man. The cherry grove that surrounded the ceremonial altar was shedding its white Yoshiro petals for this very occasion, but not a single one had come near that case. The sword, which was wrapped in black cloth and nobody dared touch, emitted a powerful force of both good and evil that many misunderstood what it represented. None of them knew what it really could be used for, as the boy thought, for he believed himself to be the true owner of it. Behind the upright standing weapon, was the armor that accompanied it, also a mystery within itself. To any who wielded it, that armor and weapon would be useless, and one would have to born to own it, not simply pick it up off the street. This boy, however, was about to risk everything to see if he was the owner.
As he stood, stepping in front of the Counselor that held all of the power in the Lor, he spoke his name. The reaction was expected, as a shockwave of disgust and apprehension sped across the crowd before him. The Counselor’s face contorted first in shock, then fear, and finally rage. The blade that had been placed on one shoulder of the boy was about to be drawn away but could not be in time, for the child reached forward and twisted it from the Counselor’s grasp. In a felling strike, blood splattered the ceremonial long sword and was released, the boy turning to face his race. Such treachery was unheard of in the pristine race of the Lor, and as they watched him stretch out his arms and ascend, the halo forming behind his head and his age becoming that of an adult, the horror of this moment solidified. In the moments that it took them to comprehend the child’s actions, he had already strode to the case and broken it with a well-aimed fist. Placing one hand on the armor, it felt the urge to be worn and become a blue aura of energy, melding onto the boy’s skin. Solidifying there, just as the fear and hatred became a solid force of will from the crowd below, the boy grasped the covered blade and placed it on his back, between his wings.
Standing above his entire race, he stood on the bloodied altar that had seen not tribute, but sacrifice in this hour, the boy spoke.
“You all heard my name, and it is Uriel. I take not the name of a boy, nor a man, but of a legend. A legend that all of you cast down, spitting his name as if it was some fowl disease. I know what we are, and what our destiny in. We are but transient guests, and it is our time to fade. I am taking the Anathema with me, the Scion of Destiny. Do not try to stop me, for I do not want to kill any more.”
That, however, was unlikely to happen. Unarmed and unprepared, the crowd of Lor one by one were cast down by the simple broadsword in the hand of a vengeful Uriel. Having destroyed half of his race, he felt ashamed, yet bitter that they had forced him to such heights. It was the legend of Uriel to be an avatar of Duality, performing both good and evil deeds in one stride. The new descendant of the namesake, however, hoped with all his heart that he had done good. The Lor were a plague on Althanas, and now he was among the last.
Escaping from the temple, and his homeland, he managed to leave some alive in hopes that his race would live on. Many children would never receive adulthood, nor choose their name, and would die as children still. Burdened by the weight of his deeds, he moved into the mortal world, hoping to accomplish what little good could be left of destroying a race.