Sign Up The Author [M-VL]

[Corey]

[size=1]How many books can you name offhand? Ten? Twenty? Maybe as many as fifty? Each of these bound pages contains a world as real as our own. The writer weaves the intricacies of their existence with the detail of a surgeon.
Each world is real, because we make it real.
We live the adventure. We empathize with the characters. We cry when a person dies, or cheer when the antagonist falls.
But what if these world existed in another way? Aside from how we perceive them through twelve point font and black type?

Every few hundred years, an Author is born. This person holds the power of creation in the palm of his hand. Not only are his stories made flesh, but every story he reads. Every word his eyes pass over, is made into reality. Each word written or read, becomes real in a freshly crafted dimension.
But this power comes with a terrible price. The Author will eventually write his demise.
He will bring into existence a being that has the ability to slip in and out of any and all dimensions. It's sole purpose is the undoing of the Author. This battle between creator and created has been waged for as long as myths and fables have existed. When an Author dies, all of his stories die with him, fading into the sands of time as a momentary New York Times Best Seller.

The Authors name is Samuel Ceaser. He lives in Chicago, and is the writer of several published works, and dozens of short stories ranging from fantasy to science fiction. He is an avant reader as well as writer, with more than a thousand books under his nearsighted belt. He is currently working on a story by the name of [u]Critical Juncture[/u]. The adversary for himself that has been written goes by the name of Richard Fry. He is a budding Elemental Mage in the early 21st century. He knows of his purpose, but not yet how to accomplish the dimensional shift.

The rules have changed this time around. Not only is Mr. Fry aware of the 'game', other characters have had their eyes opened. For some, it's not an easy thing to accept that their world isn't the only one. That they have to somehow attempt to save their creator, their God. Others accept it without a hint of hesitation, realizing what the consequences of doing nothing would be, eradication.

This band of heros will determine the fate of this young, yet ultimately important, man.

???

? Ok, so this is the first shot at an RPG I've done in a while. I really like the premise, and I'd really like to have a great crew for it.
? It will be in free-form format, no chapters here, and posting will be on a first come first serve basis.
? You can sign up as whatever character you want. You can make one up, or take your favorite character from a story or novel, as long as you provide a bio written by yourself on the existing character.
? Anyone signing up with any kind of anime or manga character will have an automatic bias from me, so don't expect to get in as Inuyasha unless it's an ungodly good signup.
? There is an extreme amount of freedom with the signup. Let your mind wander and your creativity run wild.

???

[i]Signups[/i]
[b]Name:[/b] Be creative.

[b]Age:[/b] Once again, be creative but realistic. No 3000 year old regular humans.

[b]Gender:[/b]

[b]Appearance:[/b] Pictures are optional, but detailed descriptions earn you more boyscout points.

[b]Biography:[/b] Either give me a summary of the story your character is from, if you opt in that direction, or one you've written for the character you've created.

[b]Armaments (if applicable):[/b] Not every person in every story wields a weapon of some kind. Nor is it a requirement in this RPG. A good mind can be deadlier than just about anything.

[b]Sample Post:[/b] Give me an example of a typical day in the life of your character. No length is specified, so feel free to write as much or as little as you want. Quality over quantity.[/size]

[Sakura]

[size=2][font=Verdana][b]OOC: [/b]Nice idea, Corey. Are armaments considered the same as any powers they have?[/font][/size]

[size=2][font=Verdana][color=navy][b]Name:[/b] Veralidaine "Daine" Sarrasri

[b]Age:[/b] 16 by the end of the last book.

[b]Gender:[/b] Female

[b]Appearance: [/b]Daine's hair is mess of smoky brown curls, with stormy bluish grey eyes, a soft mouth, and a stubborn chin. She's a girl of medium height and she's thin. Daine wears a simple pair of breeches and a shirt of any colour, though usually old or dark clothes when training horses. Daine's travel companions are her pony; Cloud that she's been with since she was young, and Skysong fondly nicknamed Kitten or Kit, the dragonet whose mother died helping Daine in a battle. Her closest friends are Numair and Onua.

[b]Biography:[/b] Veralidaine Sarrasri, known to her friends as Daine grew up in a small village in the mountains; Snowsdale. When she was 13 bandits set fire to her house, killing her mother, grandfather, and all the animals that stayed with them. Daine and her grey pony; Cloud were able to escape because they had been delivering something to a family friend on that day. When she discovered what happened, she became feral and got on all fours, staying and hunting with a pack of wolves that lived in the area. One day she got back on her two feet and left the pack.

She met Onua Chamtong, the K'mir horse mistress at the great fair in Cria and became her assistant. The two of them instantly bonded and became close friends. Along the way to Corus they met a man stuck in a bird morph. When he reverted to his normal self, he was introduced as Master Numair Salmalin, the greatest sorceror in Tortall. He was the one that told her that her power was more than just a knack, it was pure Wild Magic, a rare power thought of as a myth.

Numair taught Daine the ways of Wild Magic, from how to just listen and call animals, to healing, and to shapeshifting. Together with her friends she fought many immortals that had made their way into the mortal realm, her main adversaries were Stormwings, Hurroks, and Spidrens. By the end of the series, Numair was no longer Daine's friend, instead they had become lovers.

[b]Armaments:[/b] Daine carries a large longbow on herself, along with a large quiver full of arrows on her back, she can easily string the bow, but many dare not try because of it's size. Daine also has magic. She originally thought her powers was just a "knack with animals", but she soon discovered it was actually Wild Magic, a rare power that many believed was a myth. Wild Magic gives her the ability to converse with animals, heal them, and to even transform into them. If Daine wishes, she is able to force an animal into doing as she wants by forcing her will upon them, but she rarely does that since she believes that animals should be free to make their own choices.

[b]Sample Post:[/b] Veralidaine Sarrasri travelled on the back of her grey mare, Cloud. Cloud was her best friend, she'd been with her since she was a child. There were two other horses with riders. The horse on her left was carrying an ungraceful looking rider, said rider was lying over the neck of his horse. Daine chuckled at Numair, he always seemed tired when riding, and Spots always put up with him.

[b][i]"I'll give you more carrots when we stop for bearing such a laze-about for so long." [/i][/b]Daine told Spots.

Onua was mounted a top Mangle, the bay pack horse. The three of them were old travelling companions, off on another trip up to Cria for Onua to buy more horses. They decided to stop for lunch in a quiet spot, it was shady and had grass for the horses to eat. Daine dismounted and walked over to Spots, laying a gentle hand on Numair's shoulder.

[b]"We're stopping for lunch." [/b]she said, shaking him carefully.

Numair straightened with the grace of a cat, yawning and looking around. He blinked and dismounted, moving straight to a log where he sat with his head in his hands. Daine giggled and drew a carrot from her pocket, giving it to Spots as promised. She walked over to Cloud and fed her a sugar cube. Daine explored the area and found a swallow on the ground, it's wing had been broken.

Daine gently picked up the bird and brought it back to where the others were. They looked up at her as she sat Indian style on the ground, resting the bird's body in her lap. She rested her hands on it's wing and reached into her well of copper fire that was the core of her Wild Magic. She extracted a thread and fed it into the body of the swallow. Daine dove inside the bird to wear the fracture was, the good thing about birds was that their bones were hollow so she didn't have to replace the marrow, and this break had been clean which would make it easier still, and a lot faster.

Daine knit the bones together easily, checking all over the body for anything else, she extracted herself and opened her eyes. The swallow was standing in her lap, shaking out it's wings.

[b][i]"Thankyou, wing sister." [/i][/b]the swallow called, taking off.

Daine smiled after the bird, and the three companions ate lunch before hitting the road again.[/color][/font][/size]

[Baron Samedi]

[size=1][b]Name[/b]: Richard Rahl

[b]Age[/b]: Late-twenties.

[b]Gender[/b]: Male

[b]Appearance/Biography/Armament/Sample Post[/b]: [i]Richard cut a striking figure, as he strode determinedly over the lawn in front of the Mother Confessor's Palace. His steel grey eyes were like flints, and his gold cape snapped and whirled in the wind. At his side the Sword of Truth shimmered, the gold-wire in it's hilt catching the afternoon light. Whoever had taken Kahlan would recieve no mercy.

Richard was a War wizard. The first born in over 3000 years with the ability to access both the light, and the dark side of magic, thanks to the rape of his mother by another dark wizard. And in a truly epic battle against evil, and the Keeper of the underworld's tricks, he had cast his father into the deepest oblivions of the Veil.

He and Kahlan, the Mother Confessor of the Midlands, had not had an easy time afterwards though. When Richard, as prophesised, destroyed the barrier between the Old World and his world, Jagang 'The Just' and his armies poured through, sacking and killing their way up the center of Richard's world, through the Midlands, spreading lies and deciet everywhere. Backed up by the immense resources and land of the Old World, it would seem a task beyond any two people. But not only was Richard a War wizard - he was the Seeker too. A position of power and respect, which over the many years since the disappearance of wizard's rule had fallen to what amounted to a pathetic and spat-upon assasin. Richard was the first true Seeker - one appointed by a wizard - for several hundred years. The Seeker carries the Sword of Truth, and it is a powerful weapon. In it's grasp Richard perfoms the Dance of Death, where his mind and body fuse, with the experience the sword has acquired from all of it's past users. But the Sword carries a terrible price as well... it will only strike something you percieve as an enemy, or dangerous, but it causes terrible pain to the wielder... seeing themselves and everything bad that they have done. It is the rage that the sword causes when wielded that must be used to protect the Seeker's mind from the pain that it also brings.

He is truly the [/i]fuer grissa ost drauka[i]. He is the bringer of death.[/i]

It's amazing what you can remember when you put your mind to it, huh? I haven't read the books for ages.

Hope you don't mind the big amalgamation of the sections there. I find it easier to write them all together in that manner.[/size]

[Hinata]

This shall prove interesting....

[FONT=Verdana][COLOR=Navy]

[B]Name:[/B] Dwynwyn

[B]Age:[/B] Looks to be about her mid thirties. Barely middle age in fairy years.

[B]Gender:[/B]Female

[B]Appearance:[/B]See attachment below. But she has blond hair and blue eyes.

[B]Biography/Armament/Sample Post:[/B]

[I] It seems like forever has passed since this 'New Truth' was discovered. This magic that I learn more and more about as the days pass. This kingdom...My kingdom...My Dead Kingdom...Its unbearable at times, dismal, and dreary. Twenty years have passed and it still grows. My people, the Faye hate this place of the dead, and I am left alone to monitor not only it but the semi- allianced Faye surrondng me.

So much has changed and I dearly long for things to retyrn. The Queen, the Princess, the dullness and yet unfamious position I was in. I wonder how those 3rd class faires look at me now. I think they all fear me deep inside, yet they do not know, I fear this too.

This 'New Truth'. I still remember his face from our visions. For whaterever reason he and I lay entertwined in the dance of life. We learned the 'Truth' together but even in all these years I have yet to understand him. I only know what he shows me. And those items help me. They help me to uncover more truths and more ideals to pass on to the young Faye here.

But this truth is still wierd to me. I am able to control many objects around me. I can feel its energy beckoning to mingle with mine. Or or even the slightest thought of an action and bring it into being. But I still learn more skills everyday it seems. Bt I am scared each time I use it. What if the truth I gain is beyond my control and it overwhelms me. What am I to do then? [/I]

She closes the book overcome in fear as she realizes yet another 'New Truth'. She feels him reading the pages of the book her life opening up to him as he continues to turn the pages. She felt him before. But did not understand, she only thought him another piece of the dream, but her world is opened to her. Her dimension among the fairies, even the dimension of the human whom she shares visions with, but he doesn not understand her actions indicate it. She has to find the reasoning behind it. Hoping that the enlightenment will be worth the cost. She is just happy that 'he' is more so concentrated on the adventures of her pupils now.

Her chance to encounter him only in her hands. [/COLOR][/FONT]

[Corey]

[size=1][b]Name:[/b] Randall Flagg

[b]Age:[/b] Ageless

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Appearance:[/b] Flagg stands at about 5' 10" and 140lbs. His face smiles from every concievable angle. But the smile stops just short of his eyes. In truth, he is a very evil creature. Some have called him the Devils Imp. Or the Dark Man. He wears a pair of faded bluejeans and white tshirt. Over the tshirt is a bluejean jacket. On his feet are a pair of worndown cowboy boots.

[b]Biography:[/b] Flagg screamed in fury. All of his plans had been demolished by this one fanatical man. The Trashcan Man. It was he that had brought the ultimate weapon, what he called [i]'the big fire'[/i], back to Las Vegas. And it was him that would be his undoing.

Flaggs mind flashed back to the events of the previous months. He had helped the computer to malfunction at the science facility, allowing the infected man the ability to escape before the compound sealed itself off to the world. He had spread the virus with unbelievable speed. Before the next week was up, he'd infected four. That four had infected twenty. And so on. What it boiled down to was a %99.7 mortality rate. But even %.03 of the human populace was a formidable number.

And so, in the good ole USA, a nightly battle was waged. Him, Flagg, infesting the no-good souls of Americas filth with visions of the west. Of Vegas, and of him. And they had come. But they had also went to Boulder, Colorado with the dreams the old [i]*****[/i] and her [i]God[/i] were sending them.

He had more. While they were over there trying to preform a census, he was getting the lights on. While they were just turning on the lights, he was arming B-52 Bombers with Shrike Missiles. He would exterminate them and have the entire world to himself. He knew he was the one. Why else would he have flashbacks of past lives and be able to do magic?

He screamed as the blue/white ball of energy decended toward the Atomic Bomb. His human facade faded, and he truely was the Devils Imp again, for a few brief seconds. His cat-like eyes glared at the end, but then a calm washed over him. It didn't matter if he was to die right here. He had another purpose now. To save himself, and everything else, so his conquest could continue.

[b]Armaments:[/b] A bit of magic, nothing extreme though. Simple elemental manipulation. A bit of telekenesis.

[b]Sample Post:[/b] Flagg walked down the highway toward Vegas. It was two weeks before the end, and he couldn't have been happier. His bride was in Las Vegas, waiting for him with her simple, destroyed mind, with his evil seed planted firmly in her virgin womb. Things were going well, even if the last spy from Boulder had eluded him. It was going to end soon, and he was going to win.

His bootheels clicked on the pavement, the only sound out in this barren waste besides the sand whippping against your coat. Of course he could just transform into a crow and fly back to Vegas, a power he had only during his most powerful moments, but he didn't want to. Not today. It was a beautiful day, blue skies and well over a hundred degrees.

He knew that the four were on their way toward him. They were making less than forty miles a day, and it would take them at least another week to reach one of the roadblocks he had set up to catch them. He smiled to himself and thought of what he would do to them when he caught them. It didn't matter that they saw him as the bad guy. Maybe he was. But it was also his time. His time to rule. Too long had he sat back and watched as he manipulated kings from the sidelines. It was his turn. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. Maybe cruxifiction. That would be fitting, and he hadn't abstained from that activity already.

He topped a hill and laid eyes, always a dazzling sight no matter how many times it happens, on Las Vegas. It looked no more than a fifty miles away to his sharp eyes, but the desert has a way of magnifying things. He knew it was at least another two or three days walk. Flagg walked until the sun went down, then he built a small fire ate a meal of leftover rabbit, and went to sleep, dreaming of how he would hurt the people in Boulder.[/size]

[Goodbye, Face]

[size=1][font=trebuchet ms][b]Name:[/b] Kylesa Speziale

[b]Age:[/b] Twenty? something.

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Just about everything:[/b] I?ll draw a picture as soon as I can get new pens. Kylesa?s face is covered by long, tangled black hair, his red eyes shine through as if they had their own light source. In an attempt to further conceal his face, he wears a wide-brimmed hat, mostly like a cowboy hat, but that?d give you the wrong idea. He doesn?t have a home, so he either smells of dirt or pond water most of the time, furthermore, his clothes are old and slightly yellowed. He wears a white tank-top under a black vest with a high collar, pockets inside and out. If he opens his vest, you?d see that he is stocked up like an alley merchant, however, that?d give you the wrong idea. He carries knives; many, many knives. Knives of varying lengths, weights, and so forth. He wears chains as necklaces, one has a lock on it, keeping it together; one has a few keys and a key ring on it, which keeps it together; and the last one has a diamond ring that connects the ends. All of these things mean something to Kylesa. He wears a bracelet on one arm made up of a wire and human teeth with a hole drilled in for the wire to pass through, he did not collect these teeth himself, but he received it as a gift. His other arm is covered up by a gauntlet, with the hand exposed. He wears black leather gloves that are torn up rather badly. He wants to get new ones, but he hasn?t gotten around to it. He?s too busy traveling. He enjoys the city, he makes it his goal to travel every city in the United States before he dies, so far he?s off to a good start.

Kylesa is called many things, but that?d give you the wrong idea. He is a killer, he doesn?t kill randomly, but he kills people for people. There is no way for his kills to be traced to him as no one sees him. He moves about by teleporting, similar to hackers in Diablo, but that?d give you the wrong idea. He can move from here to there faster than the eye can blink. He can go anywhere that he can actually see instantly. Similar to Nightcrawler, but without that purple puff he leaves behind. Kylesa can teleport down from a rooftop and strike his victim down and teleport away so fast that it looks like his victim just tripped? and became detached from the rest of their body.

If Kylesa has a weakness, it is that he is still human, he?s still mortal, and he still gets surprised. If you ever get to meet him, you?ll find that he is a simple man with simple wants and needs. If you look at his skin you will see all sorts of different scars from initiations, fights, betrayals, et cetera. He is valiant around those who show that they are trustworthy friends and will go out of his way to protect them, especially females.

That, good friend, should give you the right idea about Kylesa Speziale.


[b]Biography, Sample Post:[/b]

?So? where do we go this week?? Rayne asked suddenly. Kylesa was forced to recall his past based on the way a word sounded.

[i]?You are so weak.

Weak.

How could you let her do this to you??

The blindfold gets pulled undone, Kylesa remembers the first thing he did was gasp and check a mysterious bullet wound. It was still bleeding, badly. He had no idea how it got there, let alone how he got there.

?There? consisted of a brick room with no windows except for a small grated window at the top, about a foot and a half long and a few inches wide, bars a centimeter in diameter. This was obviously just so Savage could see the wounds he was inflicting.

?What did?

What did you do to me?? Kylesa choked out.

?Look deep inside, young man. I did not put you in these shackles.

Want to guess who did??

Kylesa quickly scans the room. If it wasn?t him, then who would it be? Then again, why was his most trusted friend standing beside Savage?

?You? you did this??

?Yep!? Erin hops from her flat feet to her toes and back, she smiles at the peak of this movement, closing her eyes while she smiles, giving a teasing look. Kylesa is looking back, he should have known better.

Savage brings his whip back into his other hand and continues his lashing.

?Do you see what happens when you cross me, Kylesa Speziale? Now you have to suffer!?

Kylesa would spend two minutes taking his eternal punishment. He closed his eyes, after the first twenty lashes, the rest didn?t bother him as much. He was able to force his eyes open. He focused on the grate and at the thought of being free.

Freedom was his. This was the first time he used his power. [/i]

?Hello? Kylesa! What happened??

Kylesa blinks his eyes open, he?s back in the present, out of that room.

?Oh, sorry, I was thinking about something. You should pick the place. Where do you want to go??[/font][/size]

[Corey]

[size=1]Ok, so everyone's in.
Signups are still open if anyone else is interested.
I'll keep them in for the length of gameplay.

The thread will be up either tonight or Sunday.
I'll be camping for a few days starting Friday.[/size]

[Lionheart]

[FONT=Arial]Name: Ryan Graveheart a.k.a. Faith

Age: 14

Gender: male

Appearance: [edit]

Biography: his destiny was realized when he was 10. A beam of light showered over the earth, destorying everything while he was at school. While students seek shelter, he found a little girl head otuside. he followed as she turned to him and whispered. 'I found you." She teleported him to a biazzre world know as Memoria where a kingdom by the name of Fujin ruled all. He learned their ways and was put into the army to become a soldier. During a massive battle with a nearby kingdom, his power unlocked as he sent massive shockwaves at the enemy. The Queen of Fujin saw that he was the decendant of the Legendary Dragon God. He and a group of warriors, plus the princess set off to find his past and his powers. Through his adventures, his powers increased. He also grew love for the princess of Fujin, Ava. At the end of their search, the little girl that teleported him to the new world was the daughter of the creator of the world. As it seemed she was trying to destroy her father's world by bring the dragon god and destroying the world. She angered to find him he was for justice and peace. She decided to end the world herself. In a final battle, she killed all the warriors of his band sending him into the final transformation of the true dragon God. He defeated her sending Memoria into peace.
In 4 years, he saved the world of Memoria dozens of times and tried to get Ava to love him back. Right when he turned 14, she turned on her kingdom and burned her own castle and town. She was controlled by a young man named Drake. Faith learned that Drake was his older brother and his parents where from this world. At the end of the world, Faith and drake dualed while Ava slowly destoryed Memoria. Faith killed his brother and was forced to kill Ava before she destoryed the world. Her last words, "I love you." With her last bit of energy, she sent him back to earth, where he lived his normal life. Well alomst, he was left with his Dragon God powers, but rarely uses them. he never asked his parents about his past for he knew they would just lie to him. Every night, he would always have the nightmare of him killing Ava.


Armaments: He carries a Greatsword, which he is average with. His true power is when he transforms into the Dragon God. There he can fly and use the Greatsword more faster and easier. His greatest move is when he is in his Dragon God mode and uses his energy Cannon, which takes energy from nature around and fires a blast of unmeasurable magic. Though he rarely is een to use his Dragon God form, for his memories go through his head about Ava.

Sample Post:
Faith danced down the trail as Ava and Kenny followed. They where sent to the next kingdom, Helena to talk about a peace treaty between them and Fujin.
"Great day, don't ya think?" Said Ava as Kenney nodded, but Faith stopped.
"What's up?" Asked Kenny as they stopped and glanced around.
"....Ringers..." Faith answered as he reached behind for his greatsword.
"Can't be, they don't know nothing about Princess Ava on this trail." With a quick slash down, the blade connected and sent a large razor ring to the ground. Kenny pulled out his long sword as Ava backed behind him.
"Behind the tree!" Faith gasped to see a ring heading right at him. He blocked, holding up his sword and glancing wildly around for the next ring. Kenny and Ava where glancing around, waiting for the next round.
"Duck!" Faith got straight up and jumped right at Kenny and Ava.
"What?!"
"DUCK!!" They did as Faith slashed behind them as he clearly got the Ringer. The cut was deep as the Ringer fell to the gorund, bleeding terribly.
"well, got the Ringer." Faith put away his Giant blade and continued his dance down the trail. Kenny just stared at Faith as he danced by and looked at Ava.
"Simple like that and He's back to his dancing. Jeezz."[/FONT]

[Gavin]

[SIZE=1]Interesting, most interesting.

[B]Name:[/B] Grenn Tallig

[B]Age:[/B] 34 Imperial Standard Years

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Appearance:[/B] A man in Grenn's line of work knows the value of not been seen, after all the best bounty hunters are the ones who leave no trace of themselves once the job is done. Having cut a path through the galaxy, quite literally, one would assume that Tallig would at least be recognisable to those who would seek his services, but Grenn is more than well aware that the difference between a legendary bounty hunter and a has-been sitting in an Imperial detention cell awaiting execution can be something as simple as being recognised.

[url=http://adventkane.250free.com/Fraser.jpg]Here[/url] is the most recent image of Grenn , taken at some earlier this year, though of course given the fact that so few, if any people would recognise him outside of his mask it is unlikely that this single image would draw any attention. Tall and athletically built for a human, one might mistake Tallig for an aristocrat or of even higher noble birth, he radiates an aura of charm, sophistication and charisma but most important to his facade, he appears someone completely trustworthy. A rigorous training regime leaves the 1.85 metre hit man at the peak of physical fitness, given that a single nanosecond could mean the difference between a clean kill and a burning sensation where his heart used to be.

His dress sense, like everything else about Grenn is methodically perfected in order to tailor the image he wished to present people with, usually he dons himself with darker more form-fitting clothing as to enhance his physical presence.

[b]Biography:[/b] There is little of his beginnings that Grenn would deem of value, his parents were two very ordinary people from some backwater planet in the Mid Rim who decided to fall in love, marry and eventually start a family. Grenn was the end result of their union, but he would know little of his parents given that they were to die in a speeder accident when he was only a few months old. But fate would smile on the young Tallig, as it seems to have done throughout his entire life, as quite by chance he was spared from an untimely demise at the hands of a Jedi Knight.

This Jedi, an arrogant and wilful young man took the child back to Coruscant as proof of his chivalry and skill, not only had he saved a infant but he had brought the Jedi a child who might make a fine Knight with enough training. The years of his youth were to pass quickly for Grenn, he was given a name that he has now discarded, given that the young Knight had not even bothered to investigate the names of the people killed in the speeder accident. By puberty he had grow to be proficient in the ways of the Force, his skill was not something to behold but eventually he was chosen as a Padawan by a Jedi who?s name history would not retain.

Grenn immediately found himself disliking his master, he was a coarse and boorish individual, far too concerned with his place in history as opposed to his Padawan?s well-being. By age sixteen Grenn has become so disillusioned with the Jedi Order and it?s methods that he would engineer the death of his Master, through which he would engineer his freedom. It was not the Dark Side that called to Grenn, but the lure of being able to make his own decisions in life, and having power to ensure his decisions were not countermanded by others. On a mission into the Outer Rim world of Eriadu he goaded his Master into single-handedly trying to defeat a slave syndicate that had come to their attention, the end result was that his Master was dead and Grenn was left to fend for himself on a world where a single misstep could lead to his demise.

Fortunately Grenn was to make himself a name very quickly on Eriadu, his Jedi skills coupled with a desire to survive lead him to the attention of one of the many Overseers of the Exchange, a man who was willing to give Tallig all that he desired on the condition that he be moulded into Overseers personal weapon. In the beginning Grenn was happy with the arrangement, he shared company with beautiful girls, owned impressive properties all across Eriadu and earned the respect that he so desired in life. Unfortunately as he grew older, his employer sought to continue taking advantage of Grenn with a contract that was very obviously unacceptable to the most proficient contract killer on the planet. A brief fire fight ensued in which Tallig slaughtered the Overseer, three of his personal bodyguards and a handful of sexual consorts.

Now aged in his mid twenties Grenn would move from system to system either dodging the vengeful hand of the Exchange or taking up new bounties that piqued his interest. For the next seven years he would live as a shadow of the bounty hunter he could be, and so decided that the most direct route of action was to simple eliminate the Exchange at it?s source on Nar Shaddaa or more accurately eliminate it?s current leadership and leave those who would replace them with the distinct understanding that any further bounties on his life would result in their execution as well. After a torrent of blood and severed limbs, Grenn left Hutt Space a free man.

Since then he has meandered through the Galaxy making his name even more well known, though not his appearance, and lived a lifestyle befitting someone of nobility. However all that changed when Tallig became aware that his reality, that all he had accomplished could so easily have been different were it not for the whim of a greater being that himself.

[b]Armaments:[/b] A man of Grenn?s origins and tastes would see wielding a blaster of any description as lowering himself, he is in tune with the Force itself and the only weapon befitting him is his [url=http://www.starstore.com/acatalog/Sidious-Mini-lightsaber-01.gif]lightsaber[/url]. Unremarkable in many ways, it has been streamlined in design with many of the extra control switches removed for the sake of appearance, the blade, a deep bronze in colour has not been used in quite some time, as often the Force itself is all he needs to end his target?s life. His skills with a lightsaber have improved over the years, as has his control of the Force but his power is nothing to truly separate him from any other typical Jedi and he very much doubts it ever will.

[b]Sample Post:[/b] Of all the worlds that Grenn felt most at home on, Coruscant was probably top of the list, the capital of the Galaxy itself was a fitting home of the galaxy?s most dangerous bounty hunter. His target, a senator who?s eyes had strayed into concerns that were not his would be along shortly, his penchant for ?the finer things in life? would be his undoing. As much as he might have enjoyed being able to ignite his lightsaber and simply slay the man where sat, such would draw too much unnecessary attention. No, in this situation it would be far better to simple allow the fool to be the architect of his own demise.

Perhaps the most important lesson he had even been taught while simply serving as a hired gun for the Exchange was that invariably those with power became so smug, so secure in the knowledge that they were untouchable, that they made startlingly foolish errors of judgement. Having watched the senator for the better part of a month, and profiled his movements for over a year, he had learned that the senator frequently had his serving droid bring him two drinks approximately midway through entertainment. While the drinks themselves could be easily spiked with any form of traceless toxin or poison, Grenn preferred a less orthodox approach. The droid like any pawn was insignificant by itself, though as part of the whole strategy it became invaluable.

He watched motionless as the droid hovered silently while waiting for it?s master to greedily down the Corellian ales with little realisation that he would be dead mere moments later. While most bounty hunters would formulate a detailed and intensely complex plan to avoid being tied to the crime in any conceivable way, it was often such plans backfired either leaving the target unharmed or the bounty hunter themselves caught because of a small detail not taken into account. In reality it was far better to come up with a relatively simple plan, that either made the assassination look like an accident, unavoidable or otherwise and then move before any details went askew.

"[B]Ah[/B]" he murmured "[B]Feeling a bit strange are we senator ?[/B]" The senator's face had begun to visibly redden, while there had been nothing within the drink itself that would cause him harm, the droid's repulsors projecting an anti-gravity field, might just cause those metallic dust particles from his drink to rise into the back of his throat, then when he took his second drink, that?s when things would start to get interesting. And as if directed, one stubby little hand grasped the class of ale as if it were an elixir of life and downed it with such force that Grenn thought he might splutter it back up if he weren?t careful. But fortunately the amber liquid stayed where it was supposed to, at least for the time being. ?[B]Five... four... three... two... one...[/B]? Grenn watched eagerly as the senator?s hands now shot around his throat, his face had reached a shade of purple and before he could even protest his plight, his eyes had rolled up in his head and he lay dead in his seat.

Nonchalantly, Tallig raised himself from the rather comfortable chair where he?d watched his work carried out so perfectly, it was a shame really that he had to leave now, the opera was just reaching one of it?s more exuberant movements and he hated to miss them. Still work was work, and he couldn?t acquaint himself with the pleasures of life everyday, courteously he excused himself as he moved through the throngs of holo-journalists awaiting the rush of famous faces following the end of the opera. The wonderful thing about journalists was that they rarely paid attention to those who didn?t conform to the current celebrity roster, he might very well have been some executive for the Intergalactic Banking Clan, it didn?t matter anyway, his picture wouldn?t be taken and he?d walk out of the opera-house like any other patron of the arts.

?[B]After I?m paid for this little inconvenience[/B]? he thought smugly ?[B]I must return and watch the entire opera without interruption, though I should think that after tonight?s performance by the good senator it will be quite some time before I have the opportunity to do so[/B]? He sighed bitterly ?[B]Some people really do have no consideration for the needs of others...[/B]?

[CENTER]---------------[/CENTER]

[b][Edit][/b] Finished, sorry about the wait Corey but crafting the character took a little longer than I would have thought.[/SIZE]

[Retribution]

[size=1][B]Name:[/B] Christian Starweaver

[B]Age:[/B] 19 Rotations of Earth around Sol.
[B]
Gender:[/B] Male
[B]
Appearance:[/B] Christian is the paramount of elegance and refinement, from his long brown hair and soft tan facial features to his athletically toned frame. His deep hazel eyes are portals to his kind and gentle soul, as pure as driven snow. One might relate his appearance most closely to that of Arabic descent, which is readily apparent in his daily garb. He dons intricate robes of earthy tones, accurately reflecting his humble and reserved demeanor.

[B]Biography:[/B] Christian was born into the royal Starweaver bloodline ? a bloodline spanning the greater half a millennia. The Starweavers controlled one fourth of the known galaxy, and more importantly, had the ability to create, or ?weave? and manipulate light and heat, and thusly were revered throughout the galaxy as the dominant ?breed? of human beings.

Christian is the son of Raulisto and Marrion Starweaver ? the two ambitious rulers of the Starweaver Empire ? and a disgrace to his family?s name. When given the option to succeed his father has heir to the Starweaver throne, he declined, stating that the acceptance of such a position would be irresponsible and tyrannical. He attempted to argue for the freedom of his subjects, but to no avail. Instead, he was belittled, shut away in scholarly rooms and cozy chambers, oblivious to the goings on of the outside galaxy. He remained in this ignorant state for five years ? during this period of time he learned the sacred Art of Starweaving from his mother, and eventually mastered it.

After Christian?s mastery of the Art of Starweaving, he was kept in even stricter confinement, under the watchful eye of his father. Deciding that his life would be ultimately inconsequential if he remained in captivity, he escaped under the cover of nightfall, stole his mother?s cruiser, and set off into the black abyss. The exit was a daring one, one with little hope ? Starweaver Space was tightly patrolled and closely policed ? however, with a stroke of luck, he lost his pursuers in the orbit of a sun, and headed off for parts unknown.

[B]Armaments (if applicable):[/B] Strapped around his left wrist is a small, ebony wand ? the primary tool of a Starweaver.

[B]Sample Post:[/B]
?Christian, we have brought you the finest ladies within twenty light-years, throughout the vast reaches of the Empire,? his mother?s tone was vibrant and formal in the address to her son. In response, he gave a beaming smile at all thirty ladies, bowed, and slowly walked down the line, making brief small talk with each one.

?It?s a pleasure to meet you, Starweaver,? was the general greeting, to which he responded confidently.

?The pleasure is mine, meeting the most beautiful and well-mannered ladies from across the Empire.? He gave them all a very low bow ? one that was perhaps more humbling than necessary from the Prince of the Starweaver Empire. His father shot him a disapproving glance, and forcibly proceeded the night. He intended on marrying Christian off to one of the ladies of nobility, so as to preserve the purity of the throne.

The night drew to a close with increasing tension resounding between Christian and his father?s exchanging conversation ? when Raulisto suggested that Christian?s feelings were unimportant, the Prince could no longer hold back his smoldering anger towards his father and his painful indifference. His mother quickly dispelled the maidens to the guest rooms, sensing that the two were sending mixed messages to the impressionable women ? messages they would carry back to their home worlds.

?Why don?t my feelings matter, father? I am not a rock or a chair!? His voice quivered violently, in a failed attempt at civility in his address to his father.

?If you marry anyone, you would be diluting our pure Starweaver blood! It?s an abomination to the universe! Feelings must listen to reason, Christian.?

?I?m sick of reason. I?m sick of your books that you shut me away into. I?m sick of the silent world you smother me with. I am no longer your son. I am not a Prince, nor a Starweaver.? His father?s teeth clamped tightly in an embrace of fuming hatred as he stared at his son leaving the room in rush of billowing robes and rising emotion. The air stirred with unrest ? the unthinkable was on the horizon.[/size]

[Domon]

[B][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkSlateBlue]Name:[/B] Adian Tepet

[B]Age:[/B] 21

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Appearance:[/B] Adian stands about 6' 5" with regular length amber brown hair. His complexion is dark like most of the people from the city of Paragon. He has a strong muscular build and usually wears a sleeveless, red tunic along with a pair of brown pants. He usually has a shoulder guard on his right shoulder that has a large phoenix carved into the armor, the same goes for his left arm bracer.When he's travelling he usually wears an earthly colored hooded cloak.

[B]Biography[/B] Adian grew up in Paragon, which is under the rule of a god-king only known as "The Perfect". Unfortunately, people like Adian are turned over to The Perfect's allies, The Crimson Empress.

Adian is a Solar Exalted.

In Adian's realm there are normal people and then there are the Exalted. Exalted people are able to channel magic of the world and use it to perform amazing feats. However there were Exalted called Solars who were one of the strongest, but they were slaughtered and assumed dead, but Exalts do not forever die, they reincarnate. Adian is a Dawn Caste Solar, Dawn Caste's were the warriors of the Solars. However, being a Solar is a terrible thing in the time Adian lives in.

Solars were claimed to be evil monsters and needed to be killed on sight. When Adian began his exlatation he ran away from home but he only got a mile outside the city when his anima, an anima is similar to a physical avatar of the exalted, appeared in its full glory. The guards were alerted and a party was sent out to find the boy. However he had disappeared. When Adian awoke, he was in an unkown world and thus began his adventure.

[B]Armaments:[/B] Adian has a large Daiklave made of Orichalcum, which was a sacred metal that was attuned to the Solar's. The weapon appeared with Adian when he came to.

[B]Sample Post:[/B]

[I]The air of the woods whipped against Adian's face as he fled from Paragon. His thoughts trailed back to when he was told about The Perfect's spells that bound him to the city, but as his transformation started he could feel the bonds of that spell break and snap like rusted chains of old.

When he thought that he was safe, Adian finally fell to his knees and looked into a puddle and he saw the blazing symbol of the Dawn Caste as he could feel his body being changed. Then, without warning he felt like his body has erupted and his anima banner, a large phoenix, appeared and then without warning he was whisked away. While Adian was out cold he heard a voice speaking to him.

"Adian, I am the Unconquered Sun. The patron diety of the Solars. I am glad that you have come about in your Exlatation, for you are needed in another world. Here, take this weapon that you used in a previous life. Your great daiklave it will serve you well."

When the voice receeded Adian awoke in another world.[/I][/COLOR][/SIZE]

[Corey]

[size=1]Ok everyone, the thread is up in the Arena.
Details on the first post, and who is in, are there.
Have fun, I know I will.[/size]