Broken
04-04-06, 10:10 AM
((I can't remember the exact totals, but I know that I was level 2. I don't know at all what my gp was, if any, but I'm sure that Zeig does.
EDIT: That teaches me for not paying any attention. Anyways, Damien's history and such has been altered, because he was ridiculous, in the sense of laughable, not too strong. The history alone was stupid.))
Name: Damien Alucius Rashard Avetritus Haze. Prefers to shorten his birth name on an everyday basis to Damien Rashard Haze.
Race: Materialized spirit, classified of a dark intent. Given the name of a Shadowjin.
Age: Ageless, and maintains the appearance of a twenty year old male.
Location: Damien doesn't have the luxury of calling any house his home. He does, however, spend quite bit of time in Radasanth and Salvar, as he likes the presence of other people as well as the the barren continent's cold temperatures.
Hair Color: Black, worn long and always neatly groomed. Usually falls so that it covers his right eye.
Eye Color: Everybody seems to see a different color ion his eyes, often times not the same as before. It isn't a conscious change, but only a trait that betrays his original nature.
Height/Weight: 5'10", 153 pounds.
Appearance: (http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b72/i_heart_roisin_dubh/DamienFull1.jpg)
Damien is pale, slender, with blood red eyes, black hair that goes through a motley amount of changes, and exotic looks. His cheekbones are high, giving his eyes an almond-like shape, and his fingers are all an even length. His body is gaunt, and gives the illusion of weakness, which often give robbers a terrible surprise.
The clothes that he manifested in rarely, if ever, change. They are usually impeccably clean, always without a wrinkle or an unsightly rip. He wears a black jacket over a simple black tunic, it's tails falling halfway to the middle of his thighs and cinched snugly about his waist with a leather belt. On his hands, he wears a pair of long leather gloves, to give some measure of comfort and perhaps offer, no matter how small, a bit of protection to his hands. A pair of black trousers adorn his legs, paired with dark grey leggings, and a pair of soft leather shoes that conform to the shape of the feet and bend will with his steps, allowing excellent mobility. A pair of sheathed swords lay horizontally across his back, black tassels hanging from one scabbard.
Personality:
Damien is silent often, looking as though he's pondering over some thing or another. He's not much for the flowery and verbose speech of diplomats, but he refuses to speak as some back alley thug would, either. Overcomplications of matters and loud, arrogant people irrritate him over all others, though this annoyance doesn't usually show in his face. Despite his origins, he tends to have quite a bit of patience with people, and isn't inclined to lean towards either the just or the evil paths of light. He follows his own, and takes whatever actions seem appropriate at the moment, though he always follows the golden rule of life; "Damien First."
Weapon:
Preferring light swords of the knight's heavy claymores or broadswords, Damien tested a few blades out during tha past years of his new "life", including scimitars, shortswords, sabers, and even the difficult Wu Jian. As much as they are played out, he found that he enjoyed the use of the katana more than others, and often in pairs. It was a simple thing, light, sturdy if forged correctly, and very sharp. He's broken a few by accident, but right now he owns a pair of the steel swords, kept sheathed across his back.
Skills:
Swordplay (Combat) Damien is on the path to becoming a distinguished swordsman. Without having to devote time to the often frustrating arcane arts, Damien has found a natural talent with swords. Adopting a quick style, as opposed to the heavy handed strokes of most swordsmen of Althanas, his skill currently sits at an advanced skill. Furthermore, where most people tend to have difficulty using two swords, Damien took to it well, and actually has trouble using only one. When left with a single sword, his skill sits only at above average, still enough to defend himself well. (Level 2)
Dodge: (Combat) Something that goes along well with his suited style of combat, Damien is quick with fantastic reflexes. By paying close attention to the movements of his opponents, Damien has a much better chance than others to dodge a blow, especially when delivered with heavy, or long weaponry, such as axes or longswords. Still, he's only as fast as any other man, and a person can't constantly dodge and expect to win. This is one particular skill he shows interest in, considering his lack of armor, and is constantly trying to improve upon it. (Level 1)
Acrobatics: (Entertainment/Combat) An excellent way to pick up some extra coins in the town square, Damien's lithe body is quite flexible and light. He can jump up to twice his own height, and squeeze into spaces others could not. (Level 0)
Abilities:
Supernatural Strength: (Innate) Despite such a slender and fragile looking body, Damien is quite phsyically strong. Another trait that belies his inhuman origins, Damien is capable of lifting six hundred and fifty some pounds with ease, far more than a man of his stature should. Still, it doesn't hold up to some of the other absolutely inhumanly strong warriors out there, but it helps when he's caught without his swords.
Bloody Lightning: (Electric/Dark) Despite the fact that magic continually eludes him, as well as disinterest him, the Shadowjin has discovered that peices of the body given to him by Fate can be manipulated, but only to a certain extent. Using his own blood as a conductor, Damien channels the bio electricity in his own body to be brought to bear as a projectile attack. The blast cannot kill any normal man on it's own, but it can in short bursts, kill smaller animals an d humanoids, such as goblins or the common forest fauna. If the shadowjin keeps the electricity surging for more than twenty seconds, the blood will break through the skin and cause open sores which will quickly begin to hemmorhage, causing extensive damage, if not killing him. Since he's drawing largely on the electrical synapses of his own brain, for a few moments after using the ability, Damien's senses will be muddled and dazed. The energy is commonly dispersed from his hands, though it can be emitted from any portion of his body.
History:
He never really had a name. Or an identity, for that matter. No lungs with which to fog the morning winter air, no hands to feel the blood spilt across the carpet. He was only a spirit, a watcher standing between the veils of worlds, drawn always to the scenes of brutal violence or grisly murder. Those of earth, particularly in the European countrysides, would have referred to him as a bodach, a thin dark wisp of a thing that craved the darkest meat of man's heart. He had always been there.
Since the neanderthals had cracked the skull of their ancient tribal enemy to begin the vicious cycle, to the day when the first man had been shot through with an Alerarian matchlock.
He'd watched silently and emotionless as, when a man, hard at work in the coal mines of a nameless town close to Radasanth came home to find his wife in the arms of another man. The walls had run red that day, but still, the spirit didn't care.
He bore witness to almost every murder that fell on this soil, some still unsolved, the descriptions written on paper yellowing with age. Wars passed and the bodachs gathered to feed on the pain and the death of the soldiers, the miseries of the families. They gathered at the first hospitals, where corpses where buried mass graves because of a doctor with fake, expensive treatments. The spirit saw the greed mankind could bring, and all the pain that would fill their existence.
But their was light.
By accident, the spirit saw the kindness of man as well. He saw what wounds love could heal, the charity of orhpanages, the good deeds of heroes. It thoroughly surprised he. The bodach had beleived that man as nothing but a miserable existence, but he was soon proved wrong. Without the knowledge of others, but always beneath the eyes of deities, he began to watch everythikng that mankind did, or at least, as much of it as he could, taking in the good as well as bad. It was something he couldn't understand, this concept of balance; it's world was gray and barren, and there was no...emotion.
While it is rare, a supernatural spirit can, at times, take the shape of a human ghost. Soon, the bodach began to take features, began to be seen by the more perceptive of people. It became evident to one of the universe's more fickle of beings, Fate, that this spirit would not rest until it understood. And the only way it would understand, would be to become human itself. So Fate crafted for the bodach a body for it's spirit to inhabit, and set it upon Althanas soil. Confused and disoriented, it felt so many new things, had senses it couldn't understand, legs that could never seem to work correctly. He couldn't fly anymore. He couldn't pass through walls, and could only see the shell of man, instead of the workings of his heart.
An old wizard found him and took the nameless boy in. He understood only vaguely what he told him, of what he was. However, he accepted him, and set to teaching him of this new world. Of diverse and vast Corone, of mysterious and mythical Raiaera, of logical and mechanical Alerar, of cold and barren Salvar, of dry and burning Fallien. He taught the boy everything he needed to know, and even gave him a name; Damien Alucius Rashard Avetritus Haze, the name of a demon warrior from ages long ago. When the wizard died, the shadowjin found himself alone again, still grasping at the concept of what made man, man.
It's still something that eludes him. Man's free choice allows him to take any path that he wishes, which troubles Damien. Fate seems to have little consequence on them, and if anything, is harder more on the heroic and just than the wicked and twisted. Still, he doesn't seem to realize that he's chasing a dream and thought that man himself has for millenia, and still has yet to answer.
EDIT: That teaches me for not paying any attention. Anyways, Damien's history and such has been altered, because he was ridiculous, in the sense of laughable, not too strong. The history alone was stupid.))
Name: Damien Alucius Rashard Avetritus Haze. Prefers to shorten his birth name on an everyday basis to Damien Rashard Haze.
Race: Materialized spirit, classified of a dark intent. Given the name of a Shadowjin.
Age: Ageless, and maintains the appearance of a twenty year old male.
Location: Damien doesn't have the luxury of calling any house his home. He does, however, spend quite bit of time in Radasanth and Salvar, as he likes the presence of other people as well as the the barren continent's cold temperatures.
Hair Color: Black, worn long and always neatly groomed. Usually falls so that it covers his right eye.
Eye Color: Everybody seems to see a different color ion his eyes, often times not the same as before. It isn't a conscious change, but only a trait that betrays his original nature.
Height/Weight: 5'10", 153 pounds.
Appearance: (http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b72/i_heart_roisin_dubh/DamienFull1.jpg)
Damien is pale, slender, with blood red eyes, black hair that goes through a motley amount of changes, and exotic looks. His cheekbones are high, giving his eyes an almond-like shape, and his fingers are all an even length. His body is gaunt, and gives the illusion of weakness, which often give robbers a terrible surprise.
The clothes that he manifested in rarely, if ever, change. They are usually impeccably clean, always without a wrinkle or an unsightly rip. He wears a black jacket over a simple black tunic, it's tails falling halfway to the middle of his thighs and cinched snugly about his waist with a leather belt. On his hands, he wears a pair of long leather gloves, to give some measure of comfort and perhaps offer, no matter how small, a bit of protection to his hands. A pair of black trousers adorn his legs, paired with dark grey leggings, and a pair of soft leather shoes that conform to the shape of the feet and bend will with his steps, allowing excellent mobility. A pair of sheathed swords lay horizontally across his back, black tassels hanging from one scabbard.
Personality:
Damien is silent often, looking as though he's pondering over some thing or another. He's not much for the flowery and verbose speech of diplomats, but he refuses to speak as some back alley thug would, either. Overcomplications of matters and loud, arrogant people irrritate him over all others, though this annoyance doesn't usually show in his face. Despite his origins, he tends to have quite a bit of patience with people, and isn't inclined to lean towards either the just or the evil paths of light. He follows his own, and takes whatever actions seem appropriate at the moment, though he always follows the golden rule of life; "Damien First."
Weapon:
Preferring light swords of the knight's heavy claymores or broadswords, Damien tested a few blades out during tha past years of his new "life", including scimitars, shortswords, sabers, and even the difficult Wu Jian. As much as they are played out, he found that he enjoyed the use of the katana more than others, and often in pairs. It was a simple thing, light, sturdy if forged correctly, and very sharp. He's broken a few by accident, but right now he owns a pair of the steel swords, kept sheathed across his back.
Skills:
Swordplay (Combat) Damien is on the path to becoming a distinguished swordsman. Without having to devote time to the often frustrating arcane arts, Damien has found a natural talent with swords. Adopting a quick style, as opposed to the heavy handed strokes of most swordsmen of Althanas, his skill currently sits at an advanced skill. Furthermore, where most people tend to have difficulty using two swords, Damien took to it well, and actually has trouble using only one. When left with a single sword, his skill sits only at above average, still enough to defend himself well. (Level 2)
Dodge: (Combat) Something that goes along well with his suited style of combat, Damien is quick with fantastic reflexes. By paying close attention to the movements of his opponents, Damien has a much better chance than others to dodge a blow, especially when delivered with heavy, or long weaponry, such as axes or longswords. Still, he's only as fast as any other man, and a person can't constantly dodge and expect to win. This is one particular skill he shows interest in, considering his lack of armor, and is constantly trying to improve upon it. (Level 1)
Acrobatics: (Entertainment/Combat) An excellent way to pick up some extra coins in the town square, Damien's lithe body is quite flexible and light. He can jump up to twice his own height, and squeeze into spaces others could not. (Level 0)
Abilities:
Supernatural Strength: (Innate) Despite such a slender and fragile looking body, Damien is quite phsyically strong. Another trait that belies his inhuman origins, Damien is capable of lifting six hundred and fifty some pounds with ease, far more than a man of his stature should. Still, it doesn't hold up to some of the other absolutely inhumanly strong warriors out there, but it helps when he's caught without his swords.
Bloody Lightning: (Electric/Dark) Despite the fact that magic continually eludes him, as well as disinterest him, the Shadowjin has discovered that peices of the body given to him by Fate can be manipulated, but only to a certain extent. Using his own blood as a conductor, Damien channels the bio electricity in his own body to be brought to bear as a projectile attack. The blast cannot kill any normal man on it's own, but it can in short bursts, kill smaller animals an d humanoids, such as goblins or the common forest fauna. If the shadowjin keeps the electricity surging for more than twenty seconds, the blood will break through the skin and cause open sores which will quickly begin to hemmorhage, causing extensive damage, if not killing him. Since he's drawing largely on the electrical synapses of his own brain, for a few moments after using the ability, Damien's senses will be muddled and dazed. The energy is commonly dispersed from his hands, though it can be emitted from any portion of his body.
History:
He never really had a name. Or an identity, for that matter. No lungs with which to fog the morning winter air, no hands to feel the blood spilt across the carpet. He was only a spirit, a watcher standing between the veils of worlds, drawn always to the scenes of brutal violence or grisly murder. Those of earth, particularly in the European countrysides, would have referred to him as a bodach, a thin dark wisp of a thing that craved the darkest meat of man's heart. He had always been there.
Since the neanderthals had cracked the skull of their ancient tribal enemy to begin the vicious cycle, to the day when the first man had been shot through with an Alerarian matchlock.
He'd watched silently and emotionless as, when a man, hard at work in the coal mines of a nameless town close to Radasanth came home to find his wife in the arms of another man. The walls had run red that day, but still, the spirit didn't care.
He bore witness to almost every murder that fell on this soil, some still unsolved, the descriptions written on paper yellowing with age. Wars passed and the bodachs gathered to feed on the pain and the death of the soldiers, the miseries of the families. They gathered at the first hospitals, where corpses where buried mass graves because of a doctor with fake, expensive treatments. The spirit saw the greed mankind could bring, and all the pain that would fill their existence.
But their was light.
By accident, the spirit saw the kindness of man as well. He saw what wounds love could heal, the charity of orhpanages, the good deeds of heroes. It thoroughly surprised he. The bodach had beleived that man as nothing but a miserable existence, but he was soon proved wrong. Without the knowledge of others, but always beneath the eyes of deities, he began to watch everythikng that mankind did, or at least, as much of it as he could, taking in the good as well as bad. It was something he couldn't understand, this concept of balance; it's world was gray and barren, and there was no...emotion.
While it is rare, a supernatural spirit can, at times, take the shape of a human ghost. Soon, the bodach began to take features, began to be seen by the more perceptive of people. It became evident to one of the universe's more fickle of beings, Fate, that this spirit would not rest until it understood. And the only way it would understand, would be to become human itself. So Fate crafted for the bodach a body for it's spirit to inhabit, and set it upon Althanas soil. Confused and disoriented, it felt so many new things, had senses it couldn't understand, legs that could never seem to work correctly. He couldn't fly anymore. He couldn't pass through walls, and could only see the shell of man, instead of the workings of his heart.
An old wizard found him and took the nameless boy in. He understood only vaguely what he told him, of what he was. However, he accepted him, and set to teaching him of this new world. Of diverse and vast Corone, of mysterious and mythical Raiaera, of logical and mechanical Alerar, of cold and barren Salvar, of dry and burning Fallien. He taught the boy everything he needed to know, and even gave him a name; Damien Alucius Rashard Avetritus Haze, the name of a demon warrior from ages long ago. When the wizard died, the shadowjin found himself alone again, still grasping at the concept of what made man, man.
It's still something that eludes him. Man's free choice allows him to take any path that he wishes, which troubles Damien. Fate seems to have little consequence on them, and if anything, is harder more on the heroic and just than the wicked and twisted. Still, he doesn't seem to realize that he's chasing a dream and thought that man himself has for millenia, and still has yet to answer.