Genny
04-11-06, 08:43 AM
Name: Genny Morgan
Age: 20
Race: Half-Daemon
Hair Color: Honey-blonde
Eye Color: Gray, though they turn red with heavy emotions
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 110 lbs.
Occupation: Cleric of Shaltar
Personality: Dedicated to the teachings of Shaltar, god of war, this honey-haired vixen is a study in devotion. Her faith in him is so strong, she comes off as fearless in battle and out. After all, if he wills her death, it will be dealt regardless of her actions, and her life will continue by the same will. Off the field, she is intense and passionate, though often she will simply watch others intently, enjoying their thirst for life. Quick-tongued and often chipper, she lives life by the day and rarely looks to the future. Her favorite saying is "Tomorrow may never come", and she lives and breathes it. On battle, she is a testament to her lust for blood and valor. She will not fight an unarmed foe, nor will she stab someone in the back. These rules do not apply to mages and spellcasters, as they are always armed in her eyes. Once befriended, she is loyal and true, but betrayal is grounds for death. The only true hatred she holds is for humans, though she does take them on a case-by-case basis (see history).
Appearance: -Image (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v480/Paladin2000/Genny.jpg)- With long, honey-coloured hair flowing to her waste, and pale gray eyes like a rising storm in the distance, this lovely woman requires a second glance. What is truly odd about her appearance is the porcelain undertones of her flawless flesh. Statuesque is a word that fits her well, for her form is tall and lean, and her curves distracting at best.
History: With a succubus for a mother, it was rather dull growing up in the Abyss. Endless days of whoring and murder seemed to drag on endlessly. Often Genny would just stay at home, preferring to practice with others the art of the sword. Many times during these sessions, she would imagine herself in the armor her mother failed to use, sword glinting in the sun, as she fought valiantly against many foes. Angered by her human-like behaviour, her mother arranged to kidnap her father. As he sat immobilized by the succubus' magic, his wide eyes pleaded with Genny, begging her to let him live. Her mother had a different idea, however, and forced Genny to plunge her sword through his throat.
As the blade tore through his flesh, and the blood rose from the wound, a gurgle issued from his throat, and Genny had an epiphany. This cowardly murder, the acts of a craven daemon, were distasteful to her, and she knew now she would never understand or share this thirst with her mother. That night, as the others were prowling the human lands, she stole her mother's breastplate and ceremonial sword and ran away to Althanas to live her days there. Along the way, she tripped on some rocky soil, impaling her calf on her own sword, and was taken in by a group of warriors. They spoke of Shaltar, of his will, and of his preferences for true battle. Enamored, she learned as much as she could of this god. Apparently he noticed her interest, for one day she awoke without pain in her leg, and the scar completely gone. From that day on, she lived solely to serve his will, and discovered that he had granted her a minor power of healing.
During her stay, a human warrior by the name of Kristoph took her interest, his shoulder-length, wavy black hair and strong, chiseled face causing her heart to leap to her throat. Soon, he coaxed her to bed with him, and her emotions strengthened. A few days passed, and she was blissful, having found her faith in Shaltar and love all in one fell swoop. As she passed a pair of tents, she heard the sounds of passion, and peeked in to see who the lovers were, expecting to tease them later. To her complete horror, the man was Kristoph, and her heart was seared closed by fury. With rage and adrenaline fueling her assault, she tore the couple limb from limb, soaking herself, the earth, and the tents with their blood. In her mind, they had been cowards to hide from her, and deserved to die. The others in the camp were furious, and demanded that she either fall on her sword or leave, lest they kill her themselves. Their refusal to understand brought a new epiphany: Humans cannot be trusted. She vowed from that time to kill any human that did not prove themselves worthy of life.
Skills:
Daemonic Strength low skill Due to the blood that courses her veins, she belies her physical size with the ability to lift three times her own weight with ease. This adds a lot of power to her hits, but does not improve her aim or grace. As her power increases in other ways, so will this ability.
Mending low skill With Shaltar's will, she is able to mend wounds in a similar way as stitches would, only with the magic of prayer. This can slow or stop blood loss and aid in proper healing, but cannot restore a person's health.
Swordplay low skill Though lacking grace and proper stances, Genny is capable of basic sword use, and can hold her own in battle, so long as they don't get too fancy. She is weak against disarming techniques, and tends to forget to parry.
Equipment:
Pewter necklace, the pendant in the shape of a broken sword.
Steel longsword, the image of a dragon in muted gold along the blade.
Steel breastplate, the same design as the sword.
Bar of soap
Light leather armor (chest/back and legs)
3 pounds of jerky
3 pounds of 'trail mix'
Backpack
Bedroll
1 Winter blanket
Flint and tinder
Whetstone
Age: 20
Race: Half-Daemon
Hair Color: Honey-blonde
Eye Color: Gray, though they turn red with heavy emotions
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 110 lbs.
Occupation: Cleric of Shaltar
Personality: Dedicated to the teachings of Shaltar, god of war, this honey-haired vixen is a study in devotion. Her faith in him is so strong, she comes off as fearless in battle and out. After all, if he wills her death, it will be dealt regardless of her actions, and her life will continue by the same will. Off the field, she is intense and passionate, though often she will simply watch others intently, enjoying their thirst for life. Quick-tongued and often chipper, she lives life by the day and rarely looks to the future. Her favorite saying is "Tomorrow may never come", and she lives and breathes it. On battle, she is a testament to her lust for blood and valor. She will not fight an unarmed foe, nor will she stab someone in the back. These rules do not apply to mages and spellcasters, as they are always armed in her eyes. Once befriended, she is loyal and true, but betrayal is grounds for death. The only true hatred she holds is for humans, though she does take them on a case-by-case basis (see history).
Appearance: -Image (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v480/Paladin2000/Genny.jpg)- With long, honey-coloured hair flowing to her waste, and pale gray eyes like a rising storm in the distance, this lovely woman requires a second glance. What is truly odd about her appearance is the porcelain undertones of her flawless flesh. Statuesque is a word that fits her well, for her form is tall and lean, and her curves distracting at best.
History: With a succubus for a mother, it was rather dull growing up in the Abyss. Endless days of whoring and murder seemed to drag on endlessly. Often Genny would just stay at home, preferring to practice with others the art of the sword. Many times during these sessions, she would imagine herself in the armor her mother failed to use, sword glinting in the sun, as she fought valiantly against many foes. Angered by her human-like behaviour, her mother arranged to kidnap her father. As he sat immobilized by the succubus' magic, his wide eyes pleaded with Genny, begging her to let him live. Her mother had a different idea, however, and forced Genny to plunge her sword through his throat.
As the blade tore through his flesh, and the blood rose from the wound, a gurgle issued from his throat, and Genny had an epiphany. This cowardly murder, the acts of a craven daemon, were distasteful to her, and she knew now she would never understand or share this thirst with her mother. That night, as the others were prowling the human lands, she stole her mother's breastplate and ceremonial sword and ran away to Althanas to live her days there. Along the way, she tripped on some rocky soil, impaling her calf on her own sword, and was taken in by a group of warriors. They spoke of Shaltar, of his will, and of his preferences for true battle. Enamored, she learned as much as she could of this god. Apparently he noticed her interest, for one day she awoke without pain in her leg, and the scar completely gone. From that day on, she lived solely to serve his will, and discovered that he had granted her a minor power of healing.
During her stay, a human warrior by the name of Kristoph took her interest, his shoulder-length, wavy black hair and strong, chiseled face causing her heart to leap to her throat. Soon, he coaxed her to bed with him, and her emotions strengthened. A few days passed, and she was blissful, having found her faith in Shaltar and love all in one fell swoop. As she passed a pair of tents, she heard the sounds of passion, and peeked in to see who the lovers were, expecting to tease them later. To her complete horror, the man was Kristoph, and her heart was seared closed by fury. With rage and adrenaline fueling her assault, she tore the couple limb from limb, soaking herself, the earth, and the tents with their blood. In her mind, they had been cowards to hide from her, and deserved to die. The others in the camp were furious, and demanded that she either fall on her sword or leave, lest they kill her themselves. Their refusal to understand brought a new epiphany: Humans cannot be trusted. She vowed from that time to kill any human that did not prove themselves worthy of life.
Skills:
Daemonic Strength low skill Due to the blood that courses her veins, she belies her physical size with the ability to lift three times her own weight with ease. This adds a lot of power to her hits, but does not improve her aim or grace. As her power increases in other ways, so will this ability.
Mending low skill With Shaltar's will, she is able to mend wounds in a similar way as stitches would, only with the magic of prayer. This can slow or stop blood loss and aid in proper healing, but cannot restore a person's health.
Swordplay low skill Though lacking grace and proper stances, Genny is capable of basic sword use, and can hold her own in battle, so long as they don't get too fancy. She is weak against disarming techniques, and tends to forget to parry.
Equipment:
Pewter necklace, the pendant in the shape of a broken sword.
Steel longsword, the image of a dragon in muted gold along the blade.
Steel breastplate, the same design as the sword.
Bar of soap
Light leather armor (chest/back and legs)
3 pounds of jerky
3 pounds of 'trail mix'
Backpack
Bedroll
1 Winter blanket
Flint and tinder
Whetstone