Primal Urge
11-25-06, 04:18 PM
Full Name: Prisoner 271
Race: Human
Age: 32
Eyes: Aquatic Blue
Hair: Shaven to ‘Skinhead’
Height: 6’8
Weight: 280lbs
Languages: Common/Tradespeak
Occupation: Mercenary
Appearance: 271 is large, broad and has a hint of madness in his eyes that proves quite disconcerting to the common man. A deep set-jaw, more simian, than anything, mars features that might have otherwise been considered handsome, leaving him with a face too bestial to be human. Firm, well-rounded muscles glare menacingly from beneath the mystical tattoo’s that cover his body, leaving no doubt in peoples mind that this is someone not to be trifled with.
Worlds removed from the unkempt filth that passes for a criminal in Althanas, 271 has an air of dignity about him that suggests his hands were not always sullied with the sweat of labour, but as time passes, he has grown more accustomed to seeing them drenched in blood. Elegant locks, which could have redeemed his brutish visage, have been meticulously shaved to insignificant stubble that sits on his skull as a constant reminder of how far he has fallen, from the grace he once held so dear.
Personality: 271 is a difficult person to figure out, because he is not openly as abrasive as one would expect and instead draws the casual observer in with an almost magnetic charm.
Beneath this well-rehearsed facade however, lies the seedy underbelly of a dark and sinister mind, unbound by moral conscience, or restraint. 271 possesses a savage streak that extends far beyond the line most murders refuse to cross and can often become so detached that little, save the dull slap of crumpling flesh can sate him.
Location: Salvar
Weapons:
Spiked Gauntlets- There’s nothing that 271 enjoys more than feeling his enemies bodies collapse under the forceful blows of his fists and so he has adapted two gauntlets into knuckle-duster like devices that can reduce a victims face to a bloody pulp. (These gauntlets are composed of steel)
Armour:
Mystical Tattoo’s- Although 271 doesn’t actually choose to wear armour, his body is adorned in a series of patterns that resemble tribal tattoo’s. The origins of these ‘tattoo’s’ however is something far more sinister than an artists ink, for they are the result of a magical poison being poured into intricate cuts that he received during his incarceration.
Presenting a unique property, these Tattoo’s are as resilient to damage as a patch of studded leather would be and therefore afford 271 with a form of protection that is often underestimated.
Skills:
Double Jointed- This unique skill allows 271 to contort his body in extraordinary ways, such as dislocating his arms in order to prevent his hands from being chained behind his back.
Ambidextrous- During his initial breakdown, and subsequent amnesia, 271 grew skilled enough with his left hand, that when he did eventually regain his memory, his limbs retained the knowledge they had learned, which now enables him to use whichever hand he chooses with equal ease.
Merciless- 271 no longer considers himself part of the human race and therefore no amount of suffering can sway his heart from brutally punishing anyone unfortunate enough to cross him.
Primal Strength- Tapping into the animalistic side of his psyche, 271 has managed to take his body beyond the limits of most humans and can therefore employ freakish strength equivalent to two times the norm.
Animalistic Reflexes- By harnessing the primal instincts that were always present within the human mind, 271 is capable of reacting alot faster to situations than the average human could, however he has only begun to master this ability and cannot run circles around anyone just yet.
Masochistic Rage- When 271 experiences pain, he doesn’t react in the way that most people would, mainly because endorphins rush to his brain and cause him to enter a state of ecstasy. Once this frenzy has begun, 271 is able to shrug off minor wounds as if they were insect bites and can potentially go on a brutal rampage until he either receives wounds that are life threatening, or several minutes pass and the sensation dissipates.
Items:
Basic Adventuring Supplies- 271 was never a rich man and, following his escape from prison, he has had to rely on what little money he could prize from the lifeless hands of his victims and so only carries necessities like food, water and rope in his backpack.
History:
The Downward Spiral
Pain, sharp and throbbing, like a knife turning in your gut, this was the sensation that James Basentel awoke to. Plump fingers slowly climbed their way towards his head to offer their support as, with a great effort, he willed his eyes to flicker open and, in the same instant, fought to shake off the overwhelming feeling of fear as they unveiled four blank walls of a dimly lit cell.
Struggling to comprehend where he was, James was momentarily lost in the rampaging storm of his thoughts and physically shuddered, as they rattled through his mind like bolts of lightning. What the hell?, where the fuck am I?!, this can’t be right! but as the events of the previous night slowly unfolded in the halls of his memory, the realization of where he was stuck home harder than a hammer on an anvil. That son of a bitch!, he sold me out to save his own wretched skin. I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming.
As the bodyguard of a wealthy Salvian nobleman, James had seen his fair share of political scheming, but never in his wildest dreams did he think that his employer would frame him for a murder that he, himself, had committed. Clearly the ‘deal’ that Marrick had sent James to oversee, had been a cunningly planned trap and the guards that appeared in the alleyway had been lying in wait to ambush him. There had been no time to plead his case when they set upon him from all directions, for money was the only language these crooked fucks listened to, and their pockets were already brimming with Marricks gold.
Back in the present, James finally summoned the strength to alert someone’s attention, slamming his fist against the iron cell door until a guard came to see what all the fuss was about. The groan of his jailors keys turning in the old and rusty lock caused a faint smile to briefly cross his lips, now i’ll get my chance he thought, now they’ll have to listen to the truth but if James had thought the guard would be sympathetic to his plight, he was sorely mistaken.
With a vindictive sneer, the guard spat a sentence in his direction, before four of his friends piled into the cell after him “ Rise and shine shit face, it’s time to go and see the Doctor”. James had no idea who this ‘Doctor’ was, but if the guards tone was anything to judge by, the visit wasn’t to check on his welfare and so he fought, tooth and nail, against their superior numbers, until eventually being overwhelmed and beaten unconscious.
This was the end of James Basentale, as he was dragged into a laboratory and strapped down to a steel table, which bound him tight and made resistance impossible when the ‘Doctor’ finally entered and began his diabolical experiments. The tortures that James received at the crazy Doctors fiendish hands would have made rapists weep and murders gasp in awe, as the Doctor pumped him full of psychotropic drugs and slowly stripped away his identity.
The Beast Within
Days blurred into weeks, and weeks into years, as James’s mind was peeled away like the skin of an onion, unravelling into twisted spirals that shattered his memories and distorted his concept of reality. In the end, the poor man’s brain had been scarred so badly, that it started to tap into primal instincts mankind had discarded along the evolutionary ladder. No longer did the man once known as James cower, or cry, or recoil during his ‘sessions’, for instead of these natural human reactions, guttural growls and even furious roars spilled out of his throat.
The transformation that ‘James’ was going through however, didn’t end with his mind and started to spread to his body as well, enhancing his strength, reflexes, and even his tolerance for pain, which as luck would have it, was dismissed as ‘harmless’ anomalies by the Doctor. So complete was the Doctor’s faith in the prison he ran that, he still had a smug grin plastered across his lips on the night that Prisoner 271 broke through his bonds and tore his throat out.
Once 271 was free, his first thought was to rip the guards that had taunted and abused him for all these years to bloody pieces, but then a fragment of his previous life told him to create a distraction so that he could escape this hellhole once and for all. Taking a guard by surprise as he crossed from the laboratory wing of the prison to the holding cells, 271 let fly a hail of punches, and didn’t stop hitting him until the guards face was nothing but a red smear upon the floor.
Fighting to stave off the savagery that threatened to take hold of his heart, 271 snatched up the guards keys and went from one cell to the next, releasing the captives trapped inside them and, with a little goading, incited a full-blown riot that surged through the prison like a tide of destruction.
In the aftermath of the riot, 271 fled into the night to embark upon a new life of exploration and adventure, no longer bound by the concerns of his past.
Race: Human
Age: 32
Eyes: Aquatic Blue
Hair: Shaven to ‘Skinhead’
Height: 6’8
Weight: 280lbs
Languages: Common/Tradespeak
Occupation: Mercenary
Appearance: 271 is large, broad and has a hint of madness in his eyes that proves quite disconcerting to the common man. A deep set-jaw, more simian, than anything, mars features that might have otherwise been considered handsome, leaving him with a face too bestial to be human. Firm, well-rounded muscles glare menacingly from beneath the mystical tattoo’s that cover his body, leaving no doubt in peoples mind that this is someone not to be trifled with.
Worlds removed from the unkempt filth that passes for a criminal in Althanas, 271 has an air of dignity about him that suggests his hands were not always sullied with the sweat of labour, but as time passes, he has grown more accustomed to seeing them drenched in blood. Elegant locks, which could have redeemed his brutish visage, have been meticulously shaved to insignificant stubble that sits on his skull as a constant reminder of how far he has fallen, from the grace he once held so dear.
Personality: 271 is a difficult person to figure out, because he is not openly as abrasive as one would expect and instead draws the casual observer in with an almost magnetic charm.
Beneath this well-rehearsed facade however, lies the seedy underbelly of a dark and sinister mind, unbound by moral conscience, or restraint. 271 possesses a savage streak that extends far beyond the line most murders refuse to cross and can often become so detached that little, save the dull slap of crumpling flesh can sate him.
Location: Salvar
Weapons:
Spiked Gauntlets- There’s nothing that 271 enjoys more than feeling his enemies bodies collapse under the forceful blows of his fists and so he has adapted two gauntlets into knuckle-duster like devices that can reduce a victims face to a bloody pulp. (These gauntlets are composed of steel)
Armour:
Mystical Tattoo’s- Although 271 doesn’t actually choose to wear armour, his body is adorned in a series of patterns that resemble tribal tattoo’s. The origins of these ‘tattoo’s’ however is something far more sinister than an artists ink, for they are the result of a magical poison being poured into intricate cuts that he received during his incarceration.
Presenting a unique property, these Tattoo’s are as resilient to damage as a patch of studded leather would be and therefore afford 271 with a form of protection that is often underestimated.
Skills:
Double Jointed- This unique skill allows 271 to contort his body in extraordinary ways, such as dislocating his arms in order to prevent his hands from being chained behind his back.
Ambidextrous- During his initial breakdown, and subsequent amnesia, 271 grew skilled enough with his left hand, that when he did eventually regain his memory, his limbs retained the knowledge they had learned, which now enables him to use whichever hand he chooses with equal ease.
Merciless- 271 no longer considers himself part of the human race and therefore no amount of suffering can sway his heart from brutally punishing anyone unfortunate enough to cross him.
Primal Strength- Tapping into the animalistic side of his psyche, 271 has managed to take his body beyond the limits of most humans and can therefore employ freakish strength equivalent to two times the norm.
Animalistic Reflexes- By harnessing the primal instincts that were always present within the human mind, 271 is capable of reacting alot faster to situations than the average human could, however he has only begun to master this ability and cannot run circles around anyone just yet.
Masochistic Rage- When 271 experiences pain, he doesn’t react in the way that most people would, mainly because endorphins rush to his brain and cause him to enter a state of ecstasy. Once this frenzy has begun, 271 is able to shrug off minor wounds as if they were insect bites and can potentially go on a brutal rampage until he either receives wounds that are life threatening, or several minutes pass and the sensation dissipates.
Items:
Basic Adventuring Supplies- 271 was never a rich man and, following his escape from prison, he has had to rely on what little money he could prize from the lifeless hands of his victims and so only carries necessities like food, water and rope in his backpack.
History:
The Downward Spiral
Pain, sharp and throbbing, like a knife turning in your gut, this was the sensation that James Basentel awoke to. Plump fingers slowly climbed their way towards his head to offer their support as, with a great effort, he willed his eyes to flicker open and, in the same instant, fought to shake off the overwhelming feeling of fear as they unveiled four blank walls of a dimly lit cell.
Struggling to comprehend where he was, James was momentarily lost in the rampaging storm of his thoughts and physically shuddered, as they rattled through his mind like bolts of lightning. What the hell?, where the fuck am I?!, this can’t be right! but as the events of the previous night slowly unfolded in the halls of his memory, the realization of where he was stuck home harder than a hammer on an anvil. That son of a bitch!, he sold me out to save his own wretched skin. I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming.
As the bodyguard of a wealthy Salvian nobleman, James had seen his fair share of political scheming, but never in his wildest dreams did he think that his employer would frame him for a murder that he, himself, had committed. Clearly the ‘deal’ that Marrick had sent James to oversee, had been a cunningly planned trap and the guards that appeared in the alleyway had been lying in wait to ambush him. There had been no time to plead his case when they set upon him from all directions, for money was the only language these crooked fucks listened to, and their pockets were already brimming with Marricks gold.
Back in the present, James finally summoned the strength to alert someone’s attention, slamming his fist against the iron cell door until a guard came to see what all the fuss was about. The groan of his jailors keys turning in the old and rusty lock caused a faint smile to briefly cross his lips, now i’ll get my chance he thought, now they’ll have to listen to the truth but if James had thought the guard would be sympathetic to his plight, he was sorely mistaken.
With a vindictive sneer, the guard spat a sentence in his direction, before four of his friends piled into the cell after him “ Rise and shine shit face, it’s time to go and see the Doctor”. James had no idea who this ‘Doctor’ was, but if the guards tone was anything to judge by, the visit wasn’t to check on his welfare and so he fought, tooth and nail, against their superior numbers, until eventually being overwhelmed and beaten unconscious.
This was the end of James Basentale, as he was dragged into a laboratory and strapped down to a steel table, which bound him tight and made resistance impossible when the ‘Doctor’ finally entered and began his diabolical experiments. The tortures that James received at the crazy Doctors fiendish hands would have made rapists weep and murders gasp in awe, as the Doctor pumped him full of psychotropic drugs and slowly stripped away his identity.
The Beast Within
Days blurred into weeks, and weeks into years, as James’s mind was peeled away like the skin of an onion, unravelling into twisted spirals that shattered his memories and distorted his concept of reality. In the end, the poor man’s brain had been scarred so badly, that it started to tap into primal instincts mankind had discarded along the evolutionary ladder. No longer did the man once known as James cower, or cry, or recoil during his ‘sessions’, for instead of these natural human reactions, guttural growls and even furious roars spilled out of his throat.
The transformation that ‘James’ was going through however, didn’t end with his mind and started to spread to his body as well, enhancing his strength, reflexes, and even his tolerance for pain, which as luck would have it, was dismissed as ‘harmless’ anomalies by the Doctor. So complete was the Doctor’s faith in the prison he ran that, he still had a smug grin plastered across his lips on the night that Prisoner 271 broke through his bonds and tore his throat out.
Once 271 was free, his first thought was to rip the guards that had taunted and abused him for all these years to bloody pieces, but then a fragment of his previous life told him to create a distraction so that he could escape this hellhole once and for all. Taking a guard by surprise as he crossed from the laboratory wing of the prison to the holding cells, 271 let fly a hail of punches, and didn’t stop hitting him until the guards face was nothing but a red smear upon the floor.
Fighting to stave off the savagery that threatened to take hold of his heart, 271 snatched up the guards keys and went from one cell to the next, releasing the captives trapped inside them and, with a little goading, incited a full-blown riot that surged through the prison like a tide of destruction.
In the aftermath of the riot, 271 fled into the night to embark upon a new life of exploration and adventure, no longer bound by the concerns of his past.