We are the Legends

[Tusk]

Ok here's the thing. The-N has offically pissed me off with booting the Legends rp for Personal info. So instead of creating the Legends back on the N, I am doing it here. I hope you saved your bios unlike me. So here we go.

100 years have passed since the rise of the demon mage Torik. 100 years of pain, misery, and torment has filled the air. Hope is all but gone for a better life. Many are slaves sent to do whatever Torik and his 5 generals want. The others are held down by oppressive rules that force them to live a life of fear or face a fate worse than death. Change is wanted, but those who give it are crushed before they can even get a start. This was until a dwarf named Dorik Silverbeard appeared. With a skill in axes unlike any other, Dorik created the Legends of the Old World. Rebels that have earned the status of an army have become the last hope of the land of Orin. Torik has yet to veiw them as a threat and has left it to the bear general in the gnome lands to stop this rebellion, however The Legends have refused to give in. Now it is time to start anew.

Races
Humans- the most ubundant race with a wide range of appearances and beliefs. Though they are short lived and do not have the natural strength or speed as some of the other races, Human do have a spirit that does not die. If they set their mind to something, they will do it or die trying. They also learn a little faster than the other races. They are great in any class.

Dwarves- Dwarves are strong willed and strong bodied. They are slower than the other races, but can take more of a beating than the other races. They tend to go from 4 foot to 4 foot 5 in height and males have beards as a symbol of honor. They pride themselves as warriors, but many also prefer the paladin or cleric classes to honor thier god.

Elves- Elves are the fastest of the normal races. They strike fast and leave fast. They are the longest lived races, living to almost 1000 years in age. They range from 4 foot 6 to 6 foot if they are high elves. They are also the rarest race since Torik wiped out their land until it was a wasteland. They prefer to be rangers or Driuds, however a few warriors do appear with their knowledge of swordplay.

Gnomes- By far the most briliant race in the land. The gnomes are the smallest and weakest, but make up for it with a genius that borders insanity. They have a wide varity of hair colors and they tend to go with either nature or machinery. They enjoy a good joke and are usually the most light hearted race. They are great inventors or mages. However they tend to also be great druids as well

Orcs- Orcs are the biggest of the races standing almost 7 feet and that is a small one. They are the strongest of the races and have tribal origins to them. They are usually green in color and have teeth that are more like fangs. they are not the brightest, but they have adapted to the punch first question later philosiphy except for their shamans and cheiftians. They are great barbarians while some do become shamans.

Classes are up to you but remember that they are to start off as just above average. I want the chars to grow. You know the bio format well enough so post them up and I will get my two up as well.

[GnomesAteMyCake]

Hehe, Luckily I'm getting into the habit of writing all my Bios in word format. Here's Kylar again Dav! Legends'll be better on here anyways:

Name: Kylar Sturn

Age: 67, looks around early 20’s

Race: Half-Demon. Hare-Demon father, Human mother.

Class: Ranger

Appearance:


Kylar is around 5’7 in height, with her ears adding an extra half foot if you want to be technical. She has an angled face, with high cheek bones and a pointed chin and nose. Her eyes are a stormy blue, but sometimes flash red when she’s angry. Obviously she has no ears, since they stand on top of her head; like her father, Kylar is blessed (or cursed) with ears that resemble a rabbits. They are covered in a soft, downy, white fur. Her hair is also this colour, with a rough and untameable air. It reaches her hips, but is tied in a ponytail with cord, with lots of pieces and strands falling across her face. Kylar’s build is lean and stringy, with sharp angles and tanned skin. Many small scars dot her skin from head to foot, though the largest is a long faint white line on her right ear, where someone once tried to cut it off. She doesn’t look soft, since she isn’t, but she doesn’t look unhealthy, just naturally slim. She has short claws on her hands, as well as minute fangs in her mouth, and slightly bigger front teeth than most people.
For clothing, Kylar wears short-shorts, made of tanned leather that are harshly sewn together, with a small hole at the back for her tail to poke through. A matching leather corset held together with cord threaded down the left and right sides covers her torso. Brown fur grieves cover each of her shins to the knee, which loops around the bottom of her feet and leaves her heels and toes bare. She has similar fur armguards on her forearms, with large holes for her fingers and thumbs to poke through. A strip of leather is wrapped around her left upper arm. Noted that the fur in her armour is obviously not her own.

Personality: Kylar is a generally unfeeling person, and rarely talks to others unless they talk to her first, at which she often gives short or sarcastic answers. Looking out for number one, and number one only, Kylar is a person who will do anything required to remain alive. She isn’t necessarily a mean or backstabbing person, but being shunned by most living creatures gives you a narrow view on others. If given the time, most can see the hurt that Kylar has been through, and how her past had made her to the harsh Half-Demon she is. It takes a patient person to reap the rewards that are her trust and affection.

History: Born to a human mother and a demon father, Kylar’s fate was sealed the second she entered the world. Although her father tried to provide her mother with ample protection, it wasn’t enough, and she was forced to leave the life that she was used too. Although she was exiled, she never once regretting her love with a demon, nor bearing him a child. For the first few years of her life, Kylar grew like any normal child, only with slightly enhanced senses; Better hearing, greater sense of smell etc. But good things never last long. When Kylar reached fourteen, a village of humans finally found her mother and herself, and they slaughtered her mother in their hut for reproducing such an abomination. It was at this time that Kylar gained the scar on her ear, from one of the men trying to cut if off. Luckily, she managed to escape their grasps, and escaped, her speed giving her an advantage. She hid in the forest for a few years, slowly making her way to another village, in hope that the humans there would be more accepting. They weren’t. Kylar was driven from every village she came across. Such rough treatment (physical and mental) slowly fed her hatred towards humans. When Kylar turned 30, she realised that no human or demon for that matter could be trusted, and turned her back on all intelligent life.
Kylar joined Dorik’s army when she was running from a mob. Some of Dorik’s army saw her fight off the pitch-fork wielding group, and took her to him. She was enlisted into his services as a Ranger and scout, since her sped makes her a useful asset to his army.

Weaknesses: Kylar has a lower defence and physical strength than most, as well as distrust of other beings.

Extra: Kylar is faster than your average human, thanks to her Hare-Demon heritage. She also doesn’t use a weapon if she can help it, preferring to use her claws and deliver shattering kicks. If finesse and distance is required, then she is fully able to use a bow. With her distrusting attitude, don't feel insulted if Kylar believes mosst things you say is a lie. Or do, she doesn't really care what humans think.

[lilfate]

Name- Indilwen (Inn-deel-wehn) Lightfeather

Age- 135

Race- Half-Elf

Class- Healer

Appearance- Indilwen physically appears to be no older than 19 or 20, but there is a haunted look just beyond her large, grey eyes, of undesired memories turned to nightmares, that gives the appearance of her concealing someone much older inside her mind. Her face is small and heart-shaped with gentle features and a kind, knowing smile. White-gold locks fall delicately from atop her head and end midway down her back, straight, but always blowing as if by some gentle breeze. Her skin is so pale it almost glows when touched by sunlight. Her only possession is a teardrop-shaped diamond that hangs from her neck on a chain so long it had to be wrapped about her throat several times. It was given to her by her human grandmother (the mother of her father) and had supposedly been left to Indilwen by her elven mother.

Personality- Indilwen is rather easy going. She is quick to laugh at a joke and enjoys nothing more than the joy of others. She is especially fond of children, having none of her own, and desires nothing more. When it comes to family, Indilwen is as loyal as they come, willing to give her life for them. She can't imagine what she would do without them, and the thought of losing any of them frightens her more than she'd care to admit. For the most part, she has an even temper. Words are her biggest weapon. She also tends to be a rather self-sacrificing person. She'll stretch herself to the limits trying to help someone out, and oftentimes neglects her own wellbeing.

History- Indilwen was born in the land of the Elves to her beautiful, but often sorrowful, elven mother. Throughout her infancy and early childhood, she and her mother lived in solitude, though as a child Indilwen never fully understood why the other children avoided her or why their parents threw her mother looks of disgust. She was taught never to react to this hostility as kindness, although difficult at times, would always rewarded. This didn't make much sense to Indilwen. She continued to be avoided as if she were the carrier of some terrible illness. Then one day several elven children cornered Indilwen and taunted her, calling her "half-breed" and "dirty blood", pulling at her curved ears and spitting on her. When Indilwen came home in tears, her mother thought it best to send her away.
She told her daughter about a human warrior who had come to the elven lands with whom she fell deeply in love. When he had to leave their lands, he offered a place in his home for her, but she declined, feeling too deep a connection to her homeland to leave. Once Indilwen was born, things changed drastically. Still unable to leave her home, Indilwen's mother kept in correspondence with her human lover who, until recently had been neglecting his letters. Desperate to protect her child, Indilwen's mother enlisted the help of a human mail courier she met in a local tavern to deliver her child to the address on the last letter she was sent, in return for the last of her family's gold. Before handing off her child, Indilwen's mother drafted one final letter to her husband, sealed it with the mysterious jeweled necklace inside, and gave it to the mail courier with the orders that it was only to be opened by Indilwen's new guardian.
Once within the humans' walls, Indilwen was delivered, not to her father, but to her grandmother. As it turned out, the warrior had been killed while defending the human borders from the undead, as many others had also fallen. Still, Indilwen's grandmother took the best care of her granddaughter as though she were her own child. Once Indilwen became twelve, her grandmother began instructing her in the magic of herbs and the powers they gave when mixed. Studying and potion brewing became a huge part of Indilwen's life.
One day, a few decades later, Indilwen returned to her grandmother's home from school to visit when she found her grandmother had passed away while she had been resting in the gardens. Devastated, Indilwen ran away, living in solitude still within human lands, only going into town to catch up on local gossip. When an elderly mail courier arrived one day asking about the child called Indilwen, he was told about a young woman who lived in this forest whom they referred to as the "White Witch". It took several days, but the courier finally found a shabby cottage in the center of a wood with a wild garden growing outside. A young woman was tending to a bush as tall as herself with odd colored fruits when he spoke, surprisingly not catching her off guard. Indilwen merely smiled at the courier, recognizing him at once from her childhood. They greeted each other like old friends, still, he left her rather quickly after handing the tattered envelope that had been written by her mother all those years ago. Inside, she found the necklace and a letter describing her reasons for sending the child away, as well as a hope that she would be well cared for.
It has been several decades since Indilwen received her mother's gift and her final goodbye. She has been wandering the lands since, lending a helping hand whenever someone in need wanders across her path.

Weakness- Indilwen is incredibly trusting. A thief’s word is as good as a priest's in her opinion, and even if they have betrayed her in the past, Indilwen is always willing to give second chances.

[ I completely forgot about the Extra section. ]
Extra- Her ability to heal resides only in herbs and their uses in her potions. The jeweled necklace that hangs from Indilwen's throat is much more than what meets the eye. She can summon an energy field from it, only to be used as a shield, not a weapon. It has only been used by Indilwen once before, in a time of emotional distress and, upon reflection, she still has yet to discover that the necklace was the source.

[Vale]

Clyvaan, he's a bastard Zealoutous Paladin with a Cool looking sword.

[Tusk]

(( Well Val, I guess I can accept that considering I did read your bio before it was deleted... ))

Name- Veros Korso

Age- 23

Race- Human

Class- Paladin of Tor

Appearance- Veros stands just at 6 foot 2 in height and carries a medium build. He has brown hair that is longer than military but not long enough to touch the shoulder. His green eyes give a sort of calmness to his presence. He does not have any scars on him, but he does have a Tattoo of the symbol of Tor on his forearm. He wears a gold colored headband that he keeps on his forhead at all times to make sure he does not get hair in his eyes. Most of the time he is seen in his half plate armor. It is a highly polished silver armor with gold colored metal as trim on his gauntlets, boots, knees, elbows, and bottom of the chest plate. He wears the symbol of Andor on his chestplate. It is a golden lion standing on its hind paws with his arms streached outward. Veros carries with him a sheild with Tor's holy symbol, a dragon surrounded by the sun and on his right side is a longsword with the Tor symbol on the hilt. Outside his armor, Veros wears noble's clothes that are red with golden trim. It consists of a fine tunic and pants with a pair of black boots and a gold colored belt that holds his sword.

Personality- Veros is a kind man but is a very driven person. He tries to hold himself to a higher standard but does not flaunt it. In the end, he tries and carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. He values his friends but tries not to burden them with his problems. Veros follows the Code of Tor as best he can and will not purposely go against it. The code says to stand strong in the face of evil, to put yourself first into danger and the last to leave, to honor those who are good in heart and to stop those with evil in mind, to fight with honor as one serves country and Tor without waver, to protect the innocent and hunt the guilty, this is the code of Tor. It is the code he chooses to guide his life.

History- Veros was born into a wealthy noble family In the lands of Andor. The Capital city of Treygon was captured long ago and Veros was only a small infant when his family sent him away to the monistary of Tor near Iso so he would not be caught in the rebellion they had planned. From there, he was raised by monks of Tor. He had a good education thanks to the money his family sent with him and when Veros was about 8, he soon found himself wanting to be a paladin of Tor. They were heroes that protected the weak and he wanted to join. This meant years of intence squireship. He cleaned up after horses and swept floors in the monistary until they deemed it time for him to hold a sword. His studies grew harder and his training with a blade was even more demanding. He woke up early and went to bed late. Veros soon became a good warrior and an even better person. The code was his life now and he lived it every day. Then Dorik came to his monistary. Dorik told the Paladin of a world that was ruled by Torik and how he was forming the last strain of hope to save it from destruction. Many paladins answered the Call. Veros was one of them.
Dorik looked at Veros and called him out.
" Why do you want to fight? "
It was a simple question. The answer he was taught was that he was to help deny the world of the evil killing it, however he responded like this.
" To see the world and protect my home. "
" You mean this monistary? "
" No, The land of Orin, my home. "
Dorik only smiled and Soon Veros was fighting a war, getting stronger by the end of each fight.

Weaknesses- Veros will not kill a defeated foe. If he can, he will spare the enemy's life and he will not break his code under any circumstance.

Extra- Veros is a great swordsman, but not at the level he wants. He has seen Paladins do great works of divine magic and swordsmanship and one day, Veros hopes to do just that.

[TragicAce]

Name: Adwell Callister
Age: 25
Race: Human
Class: Machinist

Appearance: Adwell stands at approximately 6 feet and is in ‘fair enough shape’. His complexion is a very light tan and his short hair is naturally red. Everything about Adwell is clean-always freshly shaven, always wearing clean clothes. He’s got a pair of hazel eyes and a white set of teeth. The man’s clothes are clearly of Upper Gnome Class fashion-a beautifully crafted beige doublet, very loose white sleeves and black breeches. A pair of dark brown leather gloves suited for working men might seem a bit out-of-place on such a gentleman, but not given his profession. When he’s working with machines he’ll roll up his sleeves which can also indicate he’s being serious. A personal touch is his beige paperboy hat which is present in all but very formal matters. All the rest of his equipment and tools are handled by his companion, Prometheus.

Personality: He’s logical and precise, but also witty and sarcastic. He embraces Gnome Culture and it’s technology and marvels at the greatness of Industry. Adwell isn’t a nature boy by any means and considers much of it to be simply filthy. He loves to design and create new things with clever uses. The machinist doesn’t put up well with people who refuse to change and keep to outdated customs or beliefs. He simply isn’t a very tolerant person. He tends to be rather lazy and prefers the lavish lifestyle-the finer things in life. Callister’s a realist, worldly fellow who knows the value of coins, not Gods. Moreso than his Gnomish brothers and sisters Adwell has an entrepreneurial nature, always seeking business ventures and ways to make his own fortune.

History: Adopted to a large Gnome family renowned for it’s engineers Adwell was raised to inherit the talent. His family killed by bandits, the red-haired babe was taken in by a group of wandering gnomes, searching for a new home on the run from Torik’s forces. With five brothers and two sisters Adwell was born into a large but very loving family. All of them were wonderful engineers, but bad in dealing with customers and weren’t able to make a successful business off their skill. And that is where he steps in. From a cruddy basement in a rebel village Adwell was able to create a factory that repaired and created all sorts of mechanical creations, ranging from rifles to cannons to time-keepers. When the human grew older he became the unofficial spokesman for the fledgling company, making deals and trades with various groups. He was made into a businessman at an early age. Dorik’s army being the biggest market for their weapons it only made sense for Adwell to familiarize himself with the dwarf. He decided to personally enroll himself in Dorik’s army, to prove just how viable his family’s merchandise was in actual combat. Little did he know what he was getting himself into.

Weakness: Adwell has no training in melee combat-he’s as skilled in the blade as your regular housemaid. While he’s a mechanical genius, he’s had hardly any real combat experience. He values self-preservation more than any good soldier should, and has a fear of something common among mortals: death.

Extra: His weapon? The Dragoon Prototype Mach 3. For you more savage beings this is the Callister family’s top seller. Well that is, rifles are. Adwell’s family (those that fled before Dorik’s on their lands) has recently expanded it’s operations in the free cities and primitive rifles are becoming more around the wealthy. They may not be the most reliable weapons around but you don’t need to be a professionally-trained knight to use it. “Power to the people…”, Adwell says. “…the ones who can afford it, anyway.” The Dragoon Prototype Mach 3 is of Adwell’s own design with is a deal better than what the company has on the market. It still requires gunpowder, shot and a deal of cleaning to maintain its effectiveness. The sound can strike terror in even the bravest barbarians. The machinist detests the use of magic, and considers the practice horribly outdated.

The machinist’s companion is Prometheus, a mechanical golem created by several generations of his adoptive family. He’s a mechanical marvel-able to do what no other construct currently existing can. The golem has been equipped and modified half-a-hundred times, his most recent changes set a drill in his left arm, a compartment capable of keeping a man breathing while underwater (for a limited time), a bolt-shooter from the front of his torso, and of course an armchair on the top of its right shoulder. Adwell had made that last adjustment himself. Certainly makes travelling a deal nicer.