Sign Up Warcraft: Cry of the Warsong (M-VL, S if you want it.)

[Engel]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][center]Warcraft: Cry of the Warsong

It has been 4 years since the epic last stand of the world of Azeroth, in their dying minutes as they stood united against the Burning Legion, and the devouring will of the undead Scourage, lead by the once holy, but now defiled Arthas, the Death Kinght.

4 Years ago, the Burning Legion invaded once again, Sargeras the Titan and his Eredar Warlocks, -Archimonde and Kil'Jaeden- came to reap the immense magical energies found in the Eternal Well.

However, they had been beaten once, returned to the Twisting Nether. And again, it seemed time for humanity to join forces with those that might be able to help. Including the Night Elves, a proud race of the forest, and the Orcs, once thought to be mindless savages, now distinguished as a proud, Shamanistic culture from Draenor, a planet far away.

On the hills of the Eternal Tree, Nordrassil, the final battle-or so they hoped- took place. In the end...in the end, no one won, really. Archimonde was defeated, but the Scourage, started by the Burning Legion, still remained.
Still lead by the once Paladin, Arthas.
Still hellbent on taking the world.

However, things did not go as planned. Each of the 8 races tried to go about in peace, but when the final assumption took place, right under their noses, and the Lich King was returned to glory, all seemed lost.

Now the eight races began to rally armies, striking at the other. They were once again, divided into the Alliance and the Horde. One seemingly pure, the other seemingly evil.

But from each sides, there are heroes. Small and meager right now, but will rise in the ranks of world, and come together in one purpose, regardless of race.

Stop the Lich King, lest they be turned to his unholy will, as walking and rotting cadavers.
As the undead.[/center]


---
Alright, I realize that might of not been what you expected from the title, but it'll all make sense when it starts. Basically, the world of Azeroth, home to many different creatures and races, is under attack. By Arthas, a Death Knight that managed to fuse with the Lich King, who ultimately took the Burning Legion's attack into his plans.

So...onto the sign ups. Feel free to PM, MSN, or AIM me with questions on anything.

[b]Name:[/b] Olden-ish.

[b]Age:[/b] 15+

[b]Race:[/b] Undead (Forsaken, out of the Lich King's control.), Tauren, (walking bovine. Need I say more? Haaaaard hitters.) Orcs (Everyone's favorite, hugely muscled greenskins!), Trolls (And not the spammer kind. The kind with tusks and blue skins. And the Jamacan accent. Yah, mon.) Humans, (See; Self.) Dwarves, (The second smallest people in the RPG.) Gnomes, (Techinological ankle biters.) and Night Elves. Choose one.

[b]Gender:[/b] Male or Female. Yes, Undead have genders...

[b]Appearance:[/b] Picture or a good description. I imagine that anyone besides human is going to have to do description, but whatever you can find is fine with me.

[b]Class:[/b] Warlock, Shaman (Horde Only), Paladin (Alliance only), Warrior, Hunter, Mage, Priest, Rouge, Druid.

[b]Weapon:[/b] Something simple, and realistic. A mage isn't going to be carrying a tower shield and a sword. I'll list Class Proficentcies later.

[b]Spells:[/b] You start with two spells. Be creative, and have them pertain to YOUR class. As the RPG progresses, there will be trainers in each captiol city to teach new spells and skills. Warriors and Rouges don't know magic, but they have special battle abilites, like Rouges are masters of poison and stealth, Warriors are proficent with every weapon known to the peoples of Azeroth.

[b]Personality:[/b] 1 paragraph, at least 5 sentences minimum. How does your character act in and out of battle?

[b]Character Snippit, or Biography:[/b] Here, you can either wow me with your innate tale on how your character got here, or get straight to the point and gimme a snippit. Your choice. Any length, but the more detailed and full, the better.

---
[b][i]Factions:[/b][/i]
[u]Alliance:[/u]
Humans
Night Elves
Dwarves
Gnomes

[u]Horde[/u]
Orcs
Trolls
Undead (Forsaken.)
Tauren.

---
Alright, now I'll list class stuff.

[u]Weapon Profiecenty:[/u]
Warriors: No limitations. Can use every weapon.
Warlock: Limited to daggers, one handed swords, wands and staves. More info upon request.
Paladin: All weapons avaiable. No limitations.
Shaman: Everything but two handed weapons, such as two handed swords or maces. May use staves.
Rouge: May duel wield, limited to 1 handed swords and daggers.
Druid: All but two handed weapons and swords.
Hunter: Can use every weapon besides maces and swords. Also has more proficentcy with Guns and Bows.
Priest: Staves and daggers.
Mage: Staves and daggers.

[u]Armor Proficentcies:[/u]
Warrior: No limits.
Warlock: Cloth armor.
Paladin: No limits.
Shaman: Up to mail, no plate.
Rouge: Cloth and Leather.
Druid: Cloth, Leather, mail.
Hunter: Cloth, leather
Priest: Cloth
Mage: Cloth.

---
[u]Class Descriptions:[/u]
Warriors: Masters of hand to hand combat, these people excel from fist to fist to sword to sword. Good for those that don't exactly have physical training, like Mages.

Warlocks: These bad boys use Demonic Magic, and their powers stym from Shadow and Fire magicks. They can summon an array of demons, and enslave demons for a short period of time.

Paladin: The Holy Protectors, they are a warrior and a priest rolled together.

Shaman: The Jack of All Trades, master of none. The Horde Shaman can heal wounded allies, fight hand to hand, and cast with the best of them.

Rouge: They are masters of poision and stealth, able to vanish right from an enemy's sight. Lovers of cloak and dagger techniques.

Druid: Almost a Shaman, they have a more distinct line, able to transform into animals, and fight melee, or stay and cast.

Priest: The healers, these holy people also dabble in shadow magicks, able to do damage as they heal.

Mage: The routine spellcaster. They fight with frost, fire and arcane spells, and as long as it's not melee, the opponent doesn't stand much of a chance against a Mage.

---
Alright, that's it. Sign up. Questions? PM, MSN, or AIM. Magical letters.[/color][/size]

[Retribution]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Narote of Granada

[b]Age:[/b] 22

[b]Race:[/b] Human

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://hyung-taekim.org/displayimage.php?album=7&pos=19][link][/url]
Narote is the man on the left side of the picture. He wears everything shown in that picture, save the earrings.

[b]Class:[/b] Priest

[b]Weapon:[/b] A staff with a white orb hovering an inch off the wooden tip. It seems to ?stick? there, remaining in it?s position at the top even when the staff is spun. He also carries a white dagger with a silver blade up his sleeve.

[b]Spells:[/b]
[I]Sanctus:[/I] A cleansing spell that heals the target of any aliments, and gives them a temporary ward against dark-magic.

[I]Gloria:[/I] A shield that protects the caster and all in the caster?s immediate vicinity. It is used primarily to redirect minor attacks.

[b]Personality:[/b] Narote can always be seen smiling, but isn?t very extroverted. His silence is usually regarded as a holy thing, and many people don?t expect him to speak. He carries an air of humility and holiness; his presence is immediately felt in the room as a force that subconsciously calms and relaxes all around him. He is very caring and gentle, preferring to heal and prevent harm from coming to his comrades. But of course, Narote can only be as mature as a 22-year-old male, and enjoys having a good time every now and then. He is a reserved individual, even during massive parties, and brings out better judgment in others.

[b]Character Snippit, or Biography:[/b]

?Lux et veritas floreant!? He shouted at the top of his lungs. Light spun intricate webs around his fingertips, then spiraled down the length of his standing body, encircling his billowing robe, flowing from a wind created by the spell.

Once the light consumed his hands entirely, he pointed them together at his staff, laying a few yards away, propped up against a tree. His hands trembled at the power running through them, until he could hold the spell?s power no longer, and cast it at his staff. A blinding light, followed by the faint sound of angels singing in his head could be heard. Once the brilliant light dimmed, he saw his wooden staff now hovering a few centimeters off the ground, and with an ivory colored orb rotating above the flat tip of the staff.

?Finally, you?re done. How long did it take you to get it right?? A feminine voice rudely intruded on his moment of success, interrupting something that he thought to be holy.

?Two weeks. If you wish to pick I fight, I am not for you,? he said in a soft tone, striding over to the tree and picking up his new staff. He turned casually, and laid his eyes on the beautiful woman. It was just his luck the only woman that would hang around him only did so to antagonize.

?Don?t give me that sh_t, Narote. Inciendo!? Narote casted Sanctus under his breath to take brunt off the spell, but in large let the full fledged attack land a direct blow. He dropped to his knees, closing his eyes in prayer and inhaling at an accelerated rate.

?You naive, complacent Priests. So pacifistic, so weak. This time, I?m taking that dagger up your sleeve, not just a few pieces of gold.

?If you wish to fight, then I will. I?d rather abstain entirely than defend myself though.? He sounded serious, his tone becoming firmer.

?Inciendo Maximus!? She fired the spell at Narote?s face, enough to permanently disfigure him. He dropped to a crouch, then rolled to the right with a firm grasp on his new staff.

?Sanctus.? He said surely, casting it upon himself as the woman fired another spell at him. In the last instant, he screamed with all his being ?GLORIA!?

A sky blue orb surrounded him, attempting to reflect a powerful fire spell. The shield began to fracture in places, in others there were small bubbles rising from where the heat was even more intense. He raised his staff to strengthen the waning shield, but it had little effect.

In the last, fleeting moments, he saw the fire rocket away from himself and onto his opponent, burning her clothes slowly. He turned to leave, and walked a few steps before hearing a bloodcurdling scream. Looking back, he saw flames on her leather-encased body, and his eyes widened in terror.

?Sanctus! Sanctus! Sanctus!? He rattled off the same spell, eventually extinguishing the magic and healing her body of cuts and burns. A small satisfaction came over him, realizing he had saved a life. Looking upon her again, he noticed most of her clothes gone, and gasped in surprise, instinctively turning away from her. He took off his outer cloak, tossed on top of her, and continued his walk.[/SIZE]

[Sakura]

[size=2][color=Navy][color=black][/color][b]Name:[/b] Katchya Valentine

[b]Age:[/b] 20

[b]Race:[/b] Night Elves

[b]Gender:[/b] Female

[b]Appearance:[/b] [url="http://members.iinet.net.au/%7Emurdolo/designs/Night%20Elf%20Shield.jpg"]This[/url] is about the best I could find.

[b]Class:[/b] Druid

[b]Weapon:[/b] [url="http://img356.imageshack.us/img356/6214/saruman34zv.jpg"]Staff[/url], the orb on top is just a crystal ball that glows when she uses her magic, and a [url="http://img200.imageshack.us/img200/8436/horussill1cc.jpg"]Dagger[/url] in a small sheath on her left hip.

[b]Spells:[/b]
[i]Transformus ___(Name of creature) - [/i]Katchya changes into another form. Currently she can change into a Nightsaber, a bear, a sealion and a peregrine falcon. She's best at Nightsaber because it was her first transformation.

[i]Angel's Tears - [/i]A simple healing spell that heals minor wounds and helps slightly with larger wounds.

[b]Personality:[/b] [/color][/size][color=Navy]Katchya's a determined person who has gone through many hardships in life. She has overcome each and feels she can accomplish anything that she sets her mind to. She's awfully stubborn and usually gets her way eventually after putting up a strong argument. [/color][color=Navy]Katchya enjoys her life as a Druid, since that's all she's ever known, she doesn't know what other classes are like, but she doesn't care. She works very hard to try and make her powers stronger, it took her quite a while to be able to transform quickly, but she did it eventually. She's quiet, but open and friendly to those she likes and trusts.[/color]
[size=2][color=Navy]
[b]Character Snippit:[/b]
Katchya stood amongst the other Druid students, they watched and listened to their teacher carefully.

[b]"Now class, choose an animal and when I ask you, say it in a loud voice." [/b]she told them.

Katchya thought for a second, she knew what this was for, they all did. This would determine what their first morph would be, and would continue to be until their powers became stronger.

They were told to stand in a line, and Katchya was somewhere in the middle. She heard the choices of the other students, watching as the teacher waved her staff in reply. The teacher appeared in front of her.

[b]"Nightsaber." [/b]Katchya said confidently.

The class was silent, and looked at her. Everyone knew that Nightshades were tough for beginners, the others had chosen bears, birds, etc. But no one said Nightsaber. Katchya met her teacher's gaze powerfully, they locked together, before she waved her staff, and moved on to the next person.

When everyone had announced their animal, the teacher instructed them on how to transform. Just picture the animal in your mind and don't go wild or you'll be stuck in mid-transformation. She then told them all to start trying to change.

Katchya rested her staff on the ground and got on all fours. She breathed in deeply and pictured the beast. She could hear the cries of others as they felt their bones re-arranging, she blocked out all the sounds and focussed.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she heard the strange grinding and crunching sound as her bones moved position. Katchya gasped as she felt an appendage stretch from the tip of her backbone, it was a tail. Katchya grit her teeth as she shrunk, and her body changed. She grew fur, her ears moved to the top of her head, her arms and legs became haunches, her hands and feet became paws, her face stretched forward into a muzzle, her teeth sharpened into fangs, her nails became claws.

Katchya opened her eyes, after realising they had slid closed and the teacher came over with a mirror. She looked at herself, she was still purple, but now had black stripes running across her body, and she really looked like a genuine Nightsaber.

[b]"Congratulations, Katchya. You just completed your first transformation." [/b]she smiled.

Katchya smiled in a strange way, that looked more like a vicious look coming from a Nightsaber. Then her teacher told her that there was more to come. The hard part was changing back to Night Elf...
[/color][/size]

[Redemption]

[color=#330066][size=1][b][u]Name:[/u][/b] Kirra (meaning Dark Lady) of the Shadow Hunters

[b][u]Age:[/b][/u] 25

[b][u]Race:[/b][/u] Night Elf

[b][u]Gender:[/b][/u] Female

[b][u]Appearance:[/b][/u] See first attachment for clothes.

Kirra is like any other Night Elf - her dark purple coloured skin, her glistening dark blue hair and her dark purple-red lips. The only thing that differs Kirra from any other Night Elf are her eyes - they are platinum silver. Normally, Night Elves have reflective blue-silver eyes. However, Kirra's eyes are purely silver. They gleam with such an intensity, they are the only things you can see of her at night.

[b][u]Class:[/b][/u] Rouge

[b][u]Weapon/s:[/b][/u]

[i]1. One-handed katana called 'Thane' - see second attachment[/i]

Kirra uses this katana only as a last resort. She is extremely efficient in using it, so efficient that an enemy that is shown this katana never sees it again.

[i]2. One-handed dagger called 'Kayden' - see third attachment[/i]

This one-handed dagger is used when Kirra is involved with close hand-to-hand battle. The serrated edges gives the weapon a bit more sting. If the opponent is able to dodge the main blade, the serrated edges may be able to nick the enemy. And that is deadly. The blade is covered in a poison that most Night Elves are immune to. It is a poison that is made from the Tree of Eternity and is only used by the Shadow Hunters.

[i]3. Throwing daggers - see fourth attachement[/i]

These daggers are the most used weapon of Kirra's array. These can be used from any position in a battle - from afar or close range. Each blade is covered in the same poison as the one-handed dagger.

[u][b]Spells/Abilities:[/b][/u]

[i]Shadow Copy:[/i] This ability creates duplicates of Kirra except as shadows. They moved around only on a two-dimensional way, like shadows do. They are able to aid Kirra in an ambush, a distraction or an actual attack.

[i]Shadow Dance:[/i] This ability creates 1-5 shadows on a third-dimensional status. This spell causes Kirra to go into somewhat of a berserker mode. The shadows whirl around her in some sort of devilish dance. Doing this makes Kirra go more and more into the berserk mode. Once she is fully there, not many things can stop her.

[u][b]Personality:[/u][/b] Kirra is one of the more complex Night Elves around. Her personality is somewhat... challenging to try to get used to. Most of the time, Kirra is fairly down-to-earth. She takes her role in the community very seriously. A Shadow Hunter is a scout/protector of the Night Elven community. It is their job to give warning of advancing forces, and if the forces are small enough, to engage in combat until reinforcements arrive.

However, when's she not on duty, she enjoys a drink with her sisters (not blood related, just her comrades) and, rarely, a flirt with any good-looking male that comes along. But her favourite past-time is to use her abilities to play tricks on anyone that isn't wary enough, especially any non-Night Elven people that come through the community.

[b][u]Character Snippet:[/u][/b]

Night had enveloped the mountain on which the Night Elves lived upon. Kirra, one of the Shadow Hunters, was on duty. She slipped through the shadows, only able to be seen by other Shadow Hunters. There had been rumours that a group of Satyrs had been causing havoc around the south-western area. When the guard had changed, Kirra had resolved to find these Satyrs before they destroyed any of the outlying Moonwells.

It was a half moon that night. Kirra had stopped momentarily to look at its shining silver face. Her silver eyes glistened as the moonlight made them glow intensely. But her stop was brief. Soon she was flitting from shadow to shadow, tracking down these Satyrs.

She found them minutes later.

A group of about five of the half-human, half-goat creatues sat around a small carcasse, all with their bellies full. They had devoured a young deer that had strayed away from the herd. Its unfortunate fate was to be captured by these merciless animals. Kirra watched them talk amongst themselves in a gruff, unsophiscated language. She was well hidden in a shadow of a tree, her Night-Elven Shadow-Melding technique working wonders.

A small breeze whipped up. Kirra had carefully placed herself downwind from the Satyrs, unlucky for her because their stench was sickening. She made careful mental notes on which way the wind was heading, just in case she needed to move herself. Watching them for a few more minutes, Kirra decided that she had studied each of their habits long enough to know how they'd react to a surprise attack.

THWACK!

One Satyr sunk to the ground, a throwing dagger penetrated deep into his forehead. The others looked stupidly confused before it dawned upon them that they were under attack.

THWACK!

Another Satyr sunk to the ground, again a throwing dagger in his forehead. The two larger ones looked around in fury, trying to work out where the attacks were coming from. At the moment, the moonlight was the only thing stopping Kirra from really attacking. But that was about to change. A large band of clouds moved across the moon, making it completely dark. This was a perfect opportunity, and it was not to be wasted.

RIIIIIIP! THUD!

One of the larger Satyrs slumped to the ground, a large gapping slash through his chest. It looked like a serrated blade made the incision. The other two flailed their weapons around wildly in some hope of catching the agressor.

RIIIIIIIP! THUD!

The smaller of the two remaining Satyrs collapsed to the ground, the same gapping slash through his chest. Now only one remained, the largest of them all. He looked around with his mean red eyes. He snorted in fury and looked around wildly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the attacker.

The clouds parted for a few seconds.... and the last Satyr saw Kirra coming at him like a Grim Reaper. She had unsheathed her katana, Thane, and released its carnage upon the Saytr. The last thing he remember was her glowing silver eyes.[/color][/size]

[Engel]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Name:[/b] Renjin Forestwalker

[b]Age:[/b] 25

[b]Race:[/b] Night Elf

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://www.blizzard.com/inblizz/fanart/ScreenShot.aspx?ImageIndex=245&Set=0]Renjin. He only has one armblade.[/url]

[b]Class:[/b] Warlock

[b]Weapon:[/b] Demonic Embrace: Contrary to it's name, Renjin's blade is quite simple, if unique. Most Warlock skill themselves in daggers or staves, but Renjin prefers the blade.

[b]Spells:[/b]

Immolation: Renjin's magicks catch his body on fire, doing damage to all those near him.

Curse of Agony: A crippling curse comes over the enemy, doing a large amount of damage over a large amount of time.

[b]Personality:[/b] Renjin, dispite his choice to become a Warlock and use demonic powers, is a very self sacrificing person. He's serious, but kind hearted, and will help out someone in need of help. In battle, his demonic powers mostly take control, leading him to be even more steel willed and battle oriented then even the most hardened warriors. Away from battle, he won't talk much, but has a rather playful spirit. Which, like most "Playful spirits", gets Renjin in trouble.

Renjin isn't an achoholic, but he enjoys his liquor, and pretty women. He's never been in a relationship too long, as he was either taken away from them, or they wre killed. Renjin doesn't try much anymore, as everyone he's been close to has been killed by the Scourage.

[b]Character Snippit:[/b]

[b]"Damnit..."[/b] Several Orcish Mages were in front of him, ready to blast him. Most warlocks hadn't done melee, but Renjin knew the purpose of balancing the melee and demonic powers. Holding his hand out, it caught fire, spreading down his body in a blue flame. Renjin ran forward, avoiding the cool blasts of ice and the warm blasts of fire, and the crackle of Arcane magicks. They cried out, not expecting this. One managed to get his staff in the way of the arm blade, but the other two's throats were ripped out, splayed across his Demonic Embrace. After a bit of hand to hand combat, the Orc was kneeling on the ground.

[b]"Alright, tell me! Who plans to attack Teldrassil?!"[/b] Renjin's eyes were firey, his body flaming, the Orc burning up. The crackle of skin, the sick burning sound melded through the trees, and the Orc answered.

[b]"Lord....Thrall didn't...want to have us hurt you...Night Elf bastards. The Forsaken thought differently..."[/b] The mage collasped, and the flame extinguished from Renjin. He flipped the corpse over, and shut the Orc's eyes, a final tribute.

[b]"I'm sorry...I didn't know the Forsaken's grip was so tight. May the spirits of the forest guide you to your next life, brave Orc."[/b] Renjin picked up the small bit of gold he was carrying. 1 gold, 23 silver, 38 copper. Not a lot, but a welcome addition. The dead had no use for money. But Renjin did, and soon he rose from his kneeling posistion, heading off for the local tavern.

Opening the door, he tied Demonic Embrace to his back, fishing out a few coppers. [b]"Gimme some Ironforge Dwarven Stout..."[/b] The bartender nodded, fishing out a glass and the liquor. There was a woman in the ashwood chair besides him, quite cute, with beautiful dark blue hair, just the shade of his. Rather quite, actually.... Renjin took a quick swig of the Dwarven Stout, and smiled his smile.

[b]"What's your name?"[/b] He asked.

[b]"Kirra...you?"[/b] She had a slightly sly smile on his face. Many men must of done this. However...he was the first Night Elven warlock that hadn't been kicked out.

[b]"Renjin. You're one of the Shadow Hunters, ain't ya? That special divsion of the Sentinels."[/b]

[b]"Yeah...and you're a Warlock. I'm surprised they haven't kicked out outta Ashenvale by now."[/b] Her smile belayed her words. He rather liked her.

[b]"Just luck and the fact that I haven't summoned an infernal down. So...luck and common sense."[/b]

[b]"Hmm...so that's it?"[/b]

[b]"Of course."[/b] Renjin bought her a glass of Dwarven Stout, as he finished off his own. Orc Hunting had it's uses, as he told her of what had happened that day.[/color][/size]

[b]OOC:[/b] Excellent sing ups so far. I'm really glad that this worked out the way it has! Continue to give me the great quality you all have.

[Seibzeihn]

[color=navy][size=1][b]Name:[/b] Synfall Winterchill (formerly Orrean Victus)

[b]Age:[/b] 28 at time of death (current age unknown)

[b]Race: [/b]Undead

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Appearance: [/b]See attachment. In most cases, Synfall keeps hold of his magical energy, ready to unleash it against an opponent. As such, the aura of dark mana hides his face from his adversaries, leaving only an empty space that shines with green energy. The eyes atop his wyvernskull headpiece gleam as well, unless Synfall ceases to hold his magical energy; whereupon his face becomes clearly visible. His eyes are a deep violet in color, his skin gray but not decaying (yet). He is rather attractive, for an undead at least, meaning that his body is relatively well-preserved thanks to the considerable amount of mana flowing in his veins. Should Synfall's skin been a normal color, he might have been able to pass as a half-elf -- at least in face. His chosen garb easily gives away that he is one of the Forsaken.

[b]Class:[/b] Mage

[b]Weapon: [/b]Evoker's Staff (as shown in the picture)

[b]Spells: [/b]

1. [i]Arcana[/i]: Synfall can conjure elementalless mana, forming it in several different ways. His strongest Arcane ability lies in being able to manifest numerous small "missiles" which speed towards a target and strike it, causing damage. Synfall can also charge his body with Arcane energy and release it in a nova-esque attack, striking all around him. However, this ability drains him considerably and he has yet to master it enough to make it truly useful in combat.

2. [i]Frost[/i]: Conjuring ice mana, Synfall can form the chilling air around him into a shield that offers additional weapon resistance, and releases a joint-numbing burst of ice energy every time a melee weapon attempts to penetrate the shield. He has heard stories of mages that can call freezing rain from the skies, but has yet to advance far enough in his training to ever consider weaving such an ability.

[b]Personality: [/b]Synfall is cold and calculating -- quite appropriate, considering [i]what[/i] he is and all that he's been through. He has a tendency to think in terms of numbers, making the individuals behind those numbers meaningless. As such, he is rather well-versed in the art of war, but offers no compassion for those fighting alongside him. Death is merely another part of life, and perhaps those that die on the field of battle might be granted the rest that Synfall desires. When he fights, Synfall has been known to show no mercy to his enemies, and relies upon a will far beyond his to keep him going in a fight.

Outside of the battlefield, Synfall doesn't really know how to act. At least, it would seem that way to many around him. He prefers to sit alone, in silence, perhaps somewhere where he can see the sky. Much more at home in the nighttime environment, it is not uncommon to see Synfall staring up at the stars for hours on end, comtemplating his path, or trying to forget his past. He is a no-nonsense, hard-bitten individual who has little patience for jokes, games or drinking (considering that he's undead, his taste has diminished somewhat). Rarely finding himself lonely despite lack of company or traveling companions, Synfall believes that he 'deserves' all of the pitfalls, pain and shortcomings of his life -- for reasons he keeps to himself. He is often prone to sparks of anger or jealousy for seemingly trivial matters, thought to have been left over from events in his previous life. All in all, Synfall remains largely a mystery; even to himself, sometimes...

[b]Character Snippit: [/b]

[i]"The flames of Hell are beckoning to you, traitor!"[/i]

Synfall faced his one-time companion, wearied, hands loosely grasping his staff. Several paces away, Ras conjured a fire spell, his eyes alight with fury. Synfall ducked at the last moment and twisted to one side, as a column of fire shot past him to illuminate the dark forest in nether fire. Regaining his footing, the undead mage tapped his magical energies, forming a shield of frost around him with the little mana that remained within. His opponent began to channel again, another fire spell; Synfall took this opportunity to shout across the night-darkened clearing.

[i][b]"We are all traitors, traitors of the Lich-King who created us! You are no different than I!"[/b][/i]

[i]"Silence!"[/i] bellowed the older mage, his face a mask of cold fury. [i]"Lady Sylvanas will destroy you for what you have done!"[/i]

[i][b]"She is a fool!"[/i][/b] Ras's eyes widened at this comment, but Synfall continued unabated. [i][b]"How can she not see -- she has made an enemy of the whole world! Defying the Lich-King...AND the Last Resistance -- how can she possibly hope to achieve her ideals when every being on Azeroth opposes her?!"[/b][/i]

A jet of fire caught Synfall in the shoulder, striking the shield and dissipating it in a burst of frost magic. His black leather armor was singed in many places, and he leaned heavily upon his staff, energy all but spent. Meanwhile, Ras was further into his berserker rage, sending gouts of fire into the darkness that surrounded them. [i]"Lady Sylvanas is immortal! Our cause cannot be stopped; our purpose is to serve the fate of all Azeroth!'[/i]

Synfall shook his head sadly. [i][b]"If that is what you believe, then there is indeed no hope for the Forsaken. I will seek my answers elsewhere..."[/i][/b]

[i]The reason...why I am still alive...[/i]

[i]The reason...why all this had to happen...[/i]

[i]The reason...why we exist at all...[/i]

[i][b]"...And maybe then I'll find the purpose that our bodies lack -- a greater purpose than Sylvanas's, or the Lich-King's. A purpose free of the shackles of Undeath...a purpose that might give me life once more." [/i][/b]

A column of fire left Ras's hands, speeding straight for Synfall's heart. There was a terrific roar, followed by a mighty nova of fire that swept across the clearing and into the forest, setting the dead trees alight. And when the smoke of the explosion cleared, the undead mage was gone, vanished into the darkness of the forest. Releasing his channeled magical energies, Ras pounded the blackened earth with one fist, bellowing into the darkness.

[i]"You can't get away that easily! The Forsaken will never forget your betrayal! The next time we meet, will be the death of you!"[/i]

At the opposite edge of the forest, Synfall heard his one-time comrade's words echo.

[i]I hope so...[/i][/color][/size]

[Orcus]

[color=#660000][SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Apollos Pursol (Pronounced Pure-soul)

[B]Age:[/B] 22

[B]Race:[/B] Human

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Appearance:[/B]
[[URL=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/Reizou/Mech.jpg]Apollos[/URL]]
[[URL=http://hyung-taekim.org/displayimage.php?album=18&pos=1]Apollos Outfit[/URL]] Apollos' outfit has a large, black cross running down the front of it, two crosses on the shoulder, and he wears a cross around his neck.

[B]Class:[/B] Paladin

[B]Weapon:[/B]
[URL=http://www.stevenshobbyfarm.com/Med/pod/dragongb.jpg][I]The Fists of Gods[/I][/URL]- Apollos wields two black and gold dragon gauntlets, which he blessed himself. On the back of each is a bright golden cross.

[URL=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/Reizou/ShortSword.jpg][I]Revelation[/I][/URL]- Apollos carries a short sword at his side, in case his gauntlets are rendered useless. He's blessed this as well, and a chain comes off the end of it with a cross charm at the end.

[B]Spells:[/B]
[I]Holy Strike-[/I] By pressing his hands together and saying a prayer of strength while his gauntlets are on, their power is increased significantly and is fatal to the undead. His fist glow a brilliant golden, which is nearly impossible to look at, and renders the undead temporarily blinded.

[I]Judgment-[/I] Apollos? ace against the Undead. He raises his fist high into the air and then deals a crushing blow to the ground. The earth trembles as bolts of holy energy strike the battlefield, hitting all enemies. Dealing a substantial deal of damage to normal enemies, most undead don't live through this attack.

[B]Personality:[/B] Apollos loves the thrill of battle. Though violence is his last resort for most problems, he loves fighting none-the-less. Despite his battle-junkie nature, he?s a kind-hearted man, and he always looks out for his allies. The team player to a fault, his allies safety is more important to him than his own. He enters every battle with all hopes of victory, and will fight until his final breath, if needed.

Apollos spends most of his time, however, traveling. He travels from church to church, to hospitals all over the world of Azeroth. He prays in the churches, checks to make sure everything is going well, and offers his help to those who are injured in any way he can.

[B]Character Snippit, or Biography:[/B]

[B]?Damn it!? [/B] The priest was knocked against the wall, all of his energy spent. Another priest was sent flying beside him, fatigued as well. They had been traveling with a Paladin, and were saying prayers in the church they were now pressed against, when the group of Undead had arrived. Twelve of them at the beginning, they had whittled their numbers down to five. However, now they had no defense, and Apollos couldn?t be seen. They said a silent prayer to themselves. And undead warrior stood over them and raised his blade up.

[COLOR=DarkRed][B]?Say your---?[/B][/COLOR] He stopped mid-sentence as his chest erupted open, and Apollos? fist blazed through. Apollos pulled his fist out and the warrior collapsed. He turned to face the enemies and talked back to the priests.

[B]?Sorry for the delay. Turns out there were more of them behind the church, waiting to pounce. I had to take care of them first. You two leave, I?ll take care of these enemies.?[/B] The priests nodded and jumped up, fleeing inside of the church. Apollos smiled and clapped his gauntlets together, grinning at his opponents.[I] A Warlock Undead, a Rouge Undead, and? [/I] Apollo blinked twice, making sure he was seeing correctly. He growled.

[B]?[I]Priests?[/I] Two undead [I]priests[/I]? You defile the name of my lord, and for that, you two die last.?[/B] He hit his fist together and surveyed his enemies. [I]I need to get them apart, take them out one by one?[/I] Apollos smiled. [I]This?ll be fun.[/I] He sprung at the warlock, ramming his fist into her face.

[B]?Holy Strike!? [/B] The warlock was blasted backwards, but wasn?t killed. [I]Powerful demon?[/I] Luckily, it still had the effect he was hoping for. The other Undead were blinded. He ran after the Warlock, but she was casting a spell. She smiled at him and initiated her spell.

[B][COLOR=Indigo]?Shadow Bolt!!?[/COLOR][/B] The attack struck Apollos squarely in the chest. He lost breath and keeled over, collapsing onto the ground. The Warlock advanced on him, thinking she had done him in. She lifted her stave to attack Apollos, but didn?t receive the chance. Apollos had already swung his leg, knocking her over, and spun himself over so that his hand was around her neck. He glared into her eyes.

[B]?Amen!?[/B] He brought his hand up and drove his fist into her chest, and her body burst into golden flames. The flames dispersed, and Apollos was left there. He sighed, relieved. The warlock looked like the hardest. [I]Now for th---[/I] A blade collided with his back and he was knocked backwards. His armor was thick enough that the blow did no major damage, but it still wounded him. He stood up and looked at his assailant. [I]The Rouge...[/I] Behind him were the two undead priests. They were smart, and knew they had to take him on at once to win. Apollos cracked his neck.

[B]?You bloody devil rejects don?t know a thing about chivalry, eh? Well I?ll teach ya?.? [/B] He held his fists together and concentrated. [I]I was going to go against them one by one, but if they don?t like my rules, I?ll play by theirs.[/I] He brought his right fist up and held his left in prayer position. He struck the ground and yelled.

[B]?Judgment!?[/B] The ground trembled as his fist collided into it, and clouds gathered above. Suddenly, a wave of holy energy bolts barricaded the field. The Rouge was struck repeatedly, and fell to the ground. Apollos drove his fist through the creatures back and watched as it disintegrated underneath him The Undead Priests, however, were unaffected. The first priest used the holy word Shield. They were protected from the onslaught. For now. The terror subsided, and the Undead let down their shield. But before he could attack, they took the initiative.

[B][COLOR=Indigo]?Shadow Word: Pain!?[/COLOR][/B] [B][COLOR=Olive]?Holy Smite!? [/COLOR][/B] They both used their spells at once, and Apollos was assaulted with pain. The smite hadn?t been to trying, he easily used his gauntlets to defend against the strike. However, he wasn?t ready for the Shadow Word. A dense purple fog had surrounded him, and whilst he was trapped in the fog his body was being racked with agony. He regained he nerve, and prayed as he waited for the fog to subside. It finally did so, and the Undead jumped in the moment the spell finished. To their surprise, Apollos was gone. A voice came from behind the Shadow Priest.

[B]?Boo.?[/B] He unleashed a series of strikes to the creatures back, and it collapsed, unconscious. Apollos kicked the ashes of the body away and turned to the frightened Undead. Apollos sneered.

[B]?Holy Strike!?[/B] The creature was knocked backwards but wasn?t killed. His staff lay at his side, and Apollos stepped on it. He took a step back and stared at the creature. He put his hands together, and brought his right fist up again. He stared at the Priest.

[B]?You claim to be a man of [I]God[/I]. So?let [I]God[/I] decide whether you live or die. Judgment!?[/B] Unable to defend himself, the Priest was torn to shreds by the thrashing. Apollos said a silent prayer for their damned souls, then walked into the church.[/SIZE][/color]

[SIZE=1][B]OOC:[/B] Hope everything's alright Deucalion. I had a mighty urge to put Divine Shield as one of my spells, but I passed. ^.^[/SIZE]

[Pumpkin]

[CENTER][SIZE=1][COLOR=#FFFFFE]

[FONT=Georgia][b]Name:[/b] Yavela Du'brin [b]Age:[/b] 100+ but looks the age of 23 [b]Race:[/b] Night Elf [b]Gender:[/b] Female [b]Appearance:[/b] [IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v494/PurpleFire/purpleelf.jpg[/IMG] Yavela stands around 5'11" tall and has an elegantly slim figure. She has light lavender skin and dark violet eyes with green hair. It is common for elfs to have different color skin and she has taken after her mother for her purple skin and the green hair from her father. (adding more later) [b]Class:[/b] Druid [b]Weapon:[/b] A wooden staff [b]Spells:[/b] [i]Druid Form[/i] - She can turn into a seal, black panther, bear and a cheetah-like cat when taking her druid form. [i]Healing Touch[/i] - She can heal others with this spell when necessary. [b]Personality:[/b] Editing [b]Biography[/b]: Yavela Du'brin was born in Darnassus, the capital of Teldrassil. Her mother worked as a preistess at the Elune Temple and her father was a hunter. She grew up pretty safe despite growing up on the edge of the big city, but she longed for the woods since she was a child and knew one day she would desire to become a druid. This conflicted with her family because her mother had hopes of her being a preistess in the name of the goddess Elune. (still editing) [/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT]

[/center]

[COLOR=black][SIZE=1]
[b]OOC:[/b]I'll finish this later. Promise. Sorry. By the way, I played World Of Warcraft so this is pretty awesome ^-^[/SIZE][/color]

[Engel]

[b]OOC:[/b] Quick note: No more Alliance, unless your character is Dwarf or Gnome. I need some more Horde, at least 2 more.

[Guest Sean]

[SIZE=1][b]Name: [/b]
Zan Lithum

[b]Age: [/b]
62

[b]Race: [/b]
Troll

[b]Gender: [/b]
Male

[b]Appearance: [/b]
[URL=http://img8.imageshack.us/my.php?image=trollshaman1kv.gif][IMG]http://img8.imageshack.us/img8/1023/trollshaman1kv.th.gif[/IMG][/URL]

[b]Class: [/b]
Shaman

[b]Weapon: [/b]
Bone Staff, one handed of course.

[b]Spells: [/b]
Viral Punishment - This spell takes a good while to charge up, but once it has, the target foe gets dealt a high damage, with weaker enemies this breaks all bones connected to the spine.

Scorching Totem - Causes fire damage at a 15 yard radius.

[b]Personality: [/b]
[I][[In Progress]][/I]

[b]Character Snippet, or Biography:[/b]

[b]?Is the ritual ready??[/b]

[b]?Yes my lord, shall I bring the test in just now.?[/b]

[b]?Very well.?[/b]

The scuffle of feet as a young orc shaman pushed through the doors as loud moans could be heard from the room, and small scream and the sound of clamping metal?the orc shaman returns back through the door with a little boy, the age of 12 in human years, clamped down to a metal boarding.

[b]?Good?very good.?[/b] said the older shaman.

[b]?Shall I leave, master??[/b]

[b]?No, no, you must experience this, hands on.?[/b] replied the older shaman, with humour glinting through his gleaming eyes.

The older shaman positioned the boy in the middle of the room, still clamped to the metal boarding, the boy struggled but the claps were far too tight, suffocating the blood, not allowing any to reach his hands. The older shaman paced the room, finally standing in front of the boy he pulled out the large Bone Staff, he smiled as he started chanting ornate themes in Trollish.

The young boy started rattling around crazily, his spine lurching forward, loud snaps as his spine breaks, and finally silence. The young shaman looked over the table as the older one stood back.

[b]?Now young one, fetch another, it?s your turn to try that.?[/b][/SIZE]

[Engel]

[b]Sign ups are closed for all but Revelation.[/b] The RPG is up, check it out. I command you too.

^_^ Have fun.

[Revelation]

[center] [B]Name-[/B] Daigon Bluethunder [B]Age-[/B] 53 [B]Gender-[/B] Male [B]Race-[/B] Tauren [B]Class-[/B] Warrior [B]Appearance-[/B] [URL=http://www.blizzard.com/inblizz/fanart/images/screens/ss242.jpg]Daigon Bluethunder[/URL] [B]Abilities-[/B] [i]Cleave-[/i] Daigon is able to use a sweeping attack that damages his weapon but also does damage to the enemy and anyone nearby. It is useful when fighting multiple enemies at once but if the enemies are asleep, Cleave will wake them up. [i]Heroic Strike[/i]- A strong attack that increases the melee damage on Daigon?s next attack. [B]Weapon-[/B] Daigon uses an axe given to him by the Tauren chief, which has been blessed by a Troll Shaman and created by an Orc Blacksmith. [B]Personality-[/B] Though large and behemoth-like, Daigon is a peaceful Tauren who does not cause conflict with others. He stays calm in every situation and is known to be the peacekeeper of many things, as well as the foundation on which others depend on. (Currently In Hiatus)) [B]Character Snippet, or Biography-[/B] (Currently In Hiatus)[/center]