Sign Up Golden Sands [PG-V]

[Ezekiel]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkOrange][CENTER]

[U][B]Golden Sands[/B][/U]

The dunes of the Malroy Desert stood majestic; silent guardians of the golden world in which they stood. Only a slight breeze moved thin sheets of sand from their resting spot, small lizards and birds scurried about on the hot surface, desperate to find shade.

Then it went off, a single gunshot sending Arma birds into the red sky, their shrill cries of shock and terror heard across the whole desert. Horses? hooves pounded on the sands, sending clouds of gold into the previously still air. The approaching army reached the top of the large dune, it?s general leading the way with his spear held out in front of him.

In the distance stood their enemy, the intruders in this land of sand and endless heat. They stood still; the army of Meram from the water kingdom had ventured away from their cool home to claim the land of the Malroy in a battle that would stain the sands crimson with the blood of the guardians.

Less than two miles away now, the Malroy army lowered their spears and swords as the black horses charged ever faster. The Meram general signalled and the arrows were launched, piercing both animal and human as the onslaught continued mercilessly. Malroy soldiers fell, others behind tripping over the dying bodies of their fellow men.

Unable to stop now, the two mighty forces clashed in a roar of battle cries, the shrill sound of metal on metal was an eerie noise in this once silent land.

For hours the battle went on, the Malroy forces being pushed back against their will down the dune they had come from. Horses tumbled down and men fell to their deaths, crushed by their faithful steeds or suffocated by the sand. The end seemed to be drawing near, the Meram army bearing down upon the fallen soldiers of Malroy, their steeds, not ones of this realm, feasting on the dead flesh of the defeated.

As the general of Malroy lay dieing, the corpse of his horse trapping him against the sand, he drew out a vial. In the small crystal container swirled a golden liquid that seemed to move in all directions at once. He pulled in a deep breath and drew his arm back, staring in terror as a beast of Meram charged towards him. In his last moment, the general threw the vial, watching with bated breath as it shattered on the ridge of the dune behind him.

The golden liquid seemed to explode, cascades of bubbling water flowed from the top of the dune, shooting off spouts high into the air. The Meram soldiers took no heed, seeing this as a sign of surrender. But as they raised their swords in victory everything seemed to stop and slow. The winds died down as sand began to swirl at the feet of the blood soaked men.

The golden liquid rose and fell against the sand as the sky changed, now taking on a violet hue. Dropping their swords, the Meram army took fleeting glances around the dunes that surrounded them, weary of what was about to come.

A single shadow on an eastern dune was all they saw at first. Something was coming, floating above the collected forces. Another shadow appeared, this one in the west. The Meram army now sweating with fear gathered together in a group, realising they were in the centre of a sand bowl, dunes surrounding them on all sides. The golden liquid flowed down pooling around their feet. More shadows flittered across the sand, and then all went silent.

As quickly as it had begun, a cry was heard and the sky exploded into a deep purple colour as fire rained from the heavens. The last hope of Malroy had arrived; the Mages of the Sand. A hundred men and women circled around the bowl, their white and violet robes fluttering slowly in the wind. The Meram army were dumbfounded, never had they seen such an ominous sight and they knew that they would never see their homeland again.

A single man drifted forward, his long hair hanging past his waist gave the impression of wings as he landed on a northern dune facing the enemy.

[B]?I see you have decimated our forces.?[/B] His voice was low, but all heard him. The other mages landed now, fists at their sides as they took in the massacre around them. The man raised his hand, palm faced towards the last Meram army as he uttered three words,
[B]?Archi Unlea Finalti.?[/B]

The sky went black, the two moons ceased to shine, and one deafening scream marked the end of the Meram army. Three hundred men brought down by one Mage, God only knew what a whole army of them would be capable of.
[CENTER]//////////[/CENTER][/CENTER][/COLOR]

[CENTER][COLOR=DarkOrange]News travels fast in the realm of the living and soon word of this seemingly invincible army had spread. The land of Malroy found themselves making new allies along with foes. Meram joined with the realm of the dead in a secret alliance to build their army for an all out battle, one where the only prize was the death of the enemy.

The day that Malroy defeated the Meram in battle is a day that will never be forgotten. As the sun rises to mark this new day, the one-year anniversary of Meram?s brutal defeat, plans of death and destruction are coming to their completion.
[CENTER]//////////[/CENTER][/COLOR][/CENTER]


[RIGHT]Some of you may recognise this, as I started this RP...well, a long time ago. I never got it going, despite so many good signs ups, so I?m trying again. I fixed some things in the story, but not too much needed tweaking.

There is extra information in the Underground thread, which I will be starting up soon. It would be helpful if you looked at it.
[COLOR=Red]Underground Thread is here --> [/COLOR] [URL=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?p=742058#post742058][[B]link[/B]][/URL]


[B]Sign Up-[/B]
[B]Name:[/B] (Fantasy names, kthnx)
[B]Age:[/B] (No less then 25)
[B]Gender:[/B]
[B]Race:[/B] (Refer to underground)
[B]Occupation:[/B] (Soldiers can also have a side job)
[B]Position:[/B] (This is only for those in the army)
[B]Weapon:[/B] (Only for soldiers/Mages)
[B]Spells:[/B] (Only for Mages-Max. of three major spells.)
[B]Appearance:[/B] (Picture or good description-also feel free to go a little wild for this)
[B]Personality:[/B]
[B]Excerpt of Character:[/B] (To replace bio, please give me a little idea of how you will post in the RP. I?d like this to be at least three paragraphs long.)

I don't want to have all mages and no soldiers/civilians. You can be any occupation if your chatacter will somehow be involved in the war. Whether that be general, or politician. [/RIGHT] [/SIZE]

[Riku]

[COLOR=DeepSkyBlue][SIZE=1][FONT=Tahoma][B]Name:[/B] Aizen Cloud

[B]Age:[/B] 25

[B]Gender:[/B] Female

[B]Race:[/B] Urla

[B]Occupation:[/B] Doctor/ Healer

[B]Position:[/B] Doctor in the army?? :P

[B]Weapon:[/B] N/A (Unless she can have a small sword or something. :/)

[B]Spells:[/B] N/A

[B]Appearance: [/B] [URL=http://img118.imageshack.us/img118/9154/1136244187gsofpurityof8.jpg]Aizen[/URL]

But instead of her hair and clothes colour being green, her dress is mixed with light blue and white with dark blue ribbons and her hair is a bright platinum blue.

[B]Personality:[/B] Aizen is a calm soul, wanting to help any Urla or Malroy soldiers that are wounded in the war. Even though her people hate the Meram with a great passion, she wonders why Urla hates them so instead of hating them... such is her kind nature. She loves her village because of the snow that falls all the time, making the atmosphere beautiful, clear and even pure... something that she wants all people to feel after or even during the war.

She's a very skilled doctor, taking in any patients that need her help and kindly accepting them for free if they don't have any money to pay. Her favorite part of being a doctor is that she helps people when they need it, giving them back the smiles on their faces whenever she can.

Aizen is a really girly- girl at heart, loving to wear ribbons, lace and long flowy dresses whenever she can. She doesn't meet much men because she's so busy, but she hopes that one day she can meet someone who can understand her feelings. Needless to say, because she has a profession in healing... she can't fight much. Thus, she relies on the soldiers in the war and treats the wounded men far from the enemy.

[B]Excerpt of Character:[/B]

It was snowing even more beautiful again this morning... delicate white falling onto the trees and grass, turning them clear and beautiful. Aizen sighed as she looked out the frosted window, breathing her hot air onto the cold glass and drawing circles with her right index finger. She loved days like this.... watching everything turn pretty, staying warm in her cottage house... everything about her village she fell in love with. Needless to say, even with the war soon coming and the army recruiting people to help out, seeing the environment like this made her forget about what was happening... if not for a little while.

[B]"Well... I just hope that don't summon me now,"[/B] she sighed, walking over to her kitchen and taking out a small cup to pour herself some herbal tea, [B]"...I'm busy with so many people from the village now..."[/B]

It hadn't been long since the war that had passed a year ago, but the people from her village still held a deep hatered of their blood- line, the Meram. She wondered once in awhile what made the Urla hate them so much... was it something that they did wrong in the past? ...Or maybe some hidden secret that couldn't be told... Aizen didn't really know... all she knew was that she would help anyone and everyone, even if it meant having her village turn their back on her. [B]"Anyways," [/B] she finally said, bringing herself back from her thoughts, [B]"it would be nice to just stay here and watch the snow fall instead of becoming invloved in the w...."[/B]

Suddenly, a knock came rambling on her front door, startling her a little. She got up from the kitchen counter and walked over to the door, opening it to a slender yet muscular man with black long-hair, wearing the get up of a soldier and having a serious yet calm look on his face. [B]"Excuse me,"[/B] he said, [B]"...Miss Cloud?"[/B]

[B]"Yes?"[/B] Aizen replied... already knowing what he'd ask.

[B]"We know that you're the best doctor around in Ashitaka Village... so we request that you become a healer in the upcoming war to help us."[/B]

She gulped loudly... damn. This was exactly what she didn't want to do, become even more involved in the war. But... she was smarter than saying no to the man... nonetheless the whole army. She sighed and then looked back up at the man, sincerity all over her face.

[B]"Alright.... consider me a doctor in the army."[/B]

[CENTER]~*~
OoC: Once I read this, I automatically wanted to join. XD Jamie, your RPs are always so awesome and this was the first time I ever signed up for one of them so.... I hope it's alright. >.<

Oh.. and would you mind that I added elf ears to the Urla people or no?[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR][/CENTER]

[Kitty]

[SIZE=1]Gah. So many good RPs this summer. o: I missed this one the first time around, but I'd love to participate this time. ^_^ And KW stole my character preference essentially. xD I had to change her race and military standing, but not much else [thank goodness *too lazy to start over*]. Sorry it's not all done. Just don't want my character having to go through another makeover. x3

EDIT: Got the excerpt done [finally]. :P
---

[B]Name:[/B] Ahndra Vreey [Pronounced: Aa-n-dra Vu-ree]
[B]Age:[/B] 27
[b]Gender:[/b] Female
[B]Race:[/B] Hanka
[B]Occupation:[/B] Breeder
[B]Position:[/B] N/A
[B]Weapon:[/B] N/A
[B]Appearance:[/B] [url=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v332/PicKitty/RandomPicchus/012.jpg]Ahndra[/url]

[B]Personality:[/B] Ahndra is a very shy girl, having had little contact with other people other than customers coming to her parents' ranch to buy or sell things or animals like Arma Birds. She tries to be as helpful as she can be, but has a tendency to overreact about things she makes minor mistakes about. Despite her shyness, she is very confident when it comes to her riding abilities. Being raised around multitudes of critters since she was a baby, she has easily adapted to riding, communicating and controlling animals. She has no favorites, and often dislikes picking one animal over another, though she knows how to tell subtle differences quite well. Her oldest animal companion is a Chai with blue feathers that she calls "Blue" [creative, no?]

Ahndra learned most of what she knows now from spending lots of time in her father's study where he kept lots of history and story books. From all her reading, Ahndra is aware of all the events between the clashing races, especially since the books are from a third-person, non-bias race. However, despite all her reading and the influence of her anti-war parents, Ahndra is tired of living the quiet life, and wants to join or at least help the soldiers end the war as much as she can. She sides with Malroy because a few Meram killed an entire field full of Arma Birds without taking the remains as they passed through. Such senseless violence, especially towards animals, disturbs her greatly.

[B]Excerpt of Character:[/B] Ahndra blinked her eyes several times, trying to get them to focus. She sat up slowly, realizing she was in her bed, though she didn't remember falling asleep there. Glancing over at the window, she spotted her calendar. Today's date was circled several times over in red and black. She thought for a moment before leaping out of bed, still dressed in yesterday's clothes.

[b]"Father!"[/b] she cried as she came to the bottom of the stairs.

[b]"Hmm?"[/b] he wondered, raising his head.

The older man was dressed in a very casual suit and sitting at a small table in what looked like their kitchen, though the counters were full of mess rather than cook ware. He grabbed his bowl and stood up, smiling calmly.

[b]"You?d best get dressed, Feathers,"[/b] he laughed. Feathers was a nickname she developed from constantly coming back home at the end of the day covered in feathers. [b]"We don?t want to be late."[/b]

She nodded solemnly, though he chuckled as he spoke. She rushed back upstairs and practically broke her closet door as she pulled it open, revealing a flowing black dress that rested on a hangar all by itself. Her hand was practically shaking as she took it out and held it up to her. She sighed as she admitted to herself how pretty it was.

A few minutes later, she walked down the stairs in the dress, blushing quite red. She had never been one to enjoy wearing such things, but this was a special occasion.

[b]"You look beautiful in her dress,"[/b] her father grinned. Ahndra said nothing, turning her head to hide her smile.

[b]"We should go,"[/b] she mumbled, rubbing her cheeks gently to make the pink color go away. The two walked out the back door and headed towards the woods in the backyard. After several minutes of walking through the foliage by a small stone path, they came upon a clearing. Birds fluttered around at their presence, filling the air with the sound of flapping wings and squawks. In the ground a few feet away rested a sole marker made out of a black stone with some carvings in it.

[b]"I wore the dress, Mama. Just like you said you always wanted to see."[/b]

[b]"She looks as beautiful in it as you did, dear."[/b]

Ahndra gently placed a small blue flower on the marker while her father placed a large pink one with a small Chai feather attached.

[b]"Happy birthday,"[/b] they both smiled, turning around and heading back towards the house. Today was going to be a busy day, in honor of all the work her mother did around the house. Ahndra whipped a small tear from her eye, and her father rubbed her shoulder gently.

[b]"It?ll be alright dear. It?ll be alright."[/b][/SIZE]

[Engel]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Name.:[/b] Zerstoren Maskau. (Zherst-oh-Ren Mask-kaoo)
[b]Age.:[/b] 27.
[b]Gender.:[/b] Male.
[b]Race.:[/b] Malroy.
[b]Occupation.:[/b] Swordsmith.
[b]Positon.:[/b] New General of the Malroy army.
[b]Weapon.:[/b] Although Zerstoren is a master of all forms of combat, he either sticks to one of three weapons. A polearm, dual wield one handed axes, or his katana. He usually carries one to two weapons on his person at all times, though people say there is little need.

[u]Eisbrecher.[/u] Translated as Iceshatter, this is the large polearm he usually wears strapped to his back. The shaft is all one piece of metal, obviously worked with care and love and precision. It leads up into three blades in a triangle like formation, each sharply honed and pointed. Several words and symbols are etched into the prongs, each still glowing red like it was fresh out of the fire.

[u]Eifersuhct & Sehnsucht.[/u] Jealousy and Desire, the twin axes that are often crossed as an X on his back. The blades are smooth and sharp, sharp enough to split a hair straight in half if you were to just drop them down on the blades. Eifersucht bears three spikes on the end of the handle, while Sehnsucht wears the spikes along certain points of the actual blade. Each are both runed with the same symbols as Eisbrecher.

[u]Schtiel.[/u] The one weapon he always carries with him, that's never left his person since he crafted it, Schtiel. The whole blade was said to of been dipped in the blood of the already dead and purified by the Mage General her/himself (Waiting for you to specify, Zeke.). The runes are of the same design, but instead an ice blue color and most strikes seem to send the air into a frenzy, causing lighting to snap at his opponent's body with each fluid thrust, strike, swing, parry. Anything that involves a harmful action. Schtiel means Calm, or Calm Wind, an oxymoron if you will.

[b]Appearance.:[/b] [url=http://img280.imageshack.us/img280/6683/heavenorheleditye9.jpg]Zerstoren.[/url] The clothes seen in the picture are his General's uniform, he usually wears a combonation of a simple black t-shirt and a pair of loose blue jeans. His eyes are a silver-blue style, his features soft and kind at times, hard and cruel, unforgiving at other times. [EDIT: Changed the picture. He's more...shmeful. That's a word. Picture copyright [url=http://meisan.deviantart.com/]*Meisan[/url]. ]

[b]Personality.:[/b] Brilliant, enigmatic, physical, kind, merciful. Those five words are what Zerstoren lives by, beliving it to be five pillars of strength that anyone with a code of ethics should live by. An academic success, he loves all sort of books from war strategies to fictional books ready purely for enjoyment. Zerstoren makes sure to keep his body in fit physical shape as well, but that's kind of a given seeing as what his job is. Quick to act on a good impulse, he often makes up a battle plan as he goes because things can change rather rapidly on the battlefield. At times, he's been known for extreme gestures of kindness to random people, and has more than once spared an enemy on the battlefield if they didn't have their heart into the battle.

[b]Writing Snippit.:[/b] [b]"General, I advise we-"[/b]

[b]"I know what we should do, soldier. If you wish to second guess me, go sign up as a tactician. We need more...pacifists, shall we say."[/b]

[b]"This is a war and you're saying we need pacifists?! What the hell, are you crazy?"[/b]

[b]"Quite possibly."[/b] Zerstoren turned around, his eyes cold and precise. They stared the young solider down, piercing into his soul. The soldier met his gaze for mere seconds before snapping away, his hands trembling. Zerstoren slipped his fingers down to Schtiel, resting on the sharkskin hilt before he spun around, drawing the blade from it's sheath and slicing the map in half in one fluid motion. In a matter of five seconds, paper scraps were fluttering around the room.

[b]"Fools! The battle is not turn based, you don't have all the time in the world to prepare. Instead of training new recruits we're standing here scribbling things on pieces of paper that will ultimately change in the tide of battle! Now, you all go out to the training grounds with Instructor Razuvious for extra training and sparring practice. I'll make up the battle plan when the battle comes."[/b] Zerstoren spun softly on his heel, sheathing the blade as he dismissed the group. Walking out of the War Quarter carefully, he fingered the hilt of Schtiel, his dirty platinum blond hair lying still on his shoulders.

[b]"We do need stratigests...but not now. Right now we need people who actually know how to fight a war so we can direct them when the time comes. We can't have a bunch of launchies on the battlefield, they'd act as merely a road bump. I hope Razuvious isn't too hard on them. That man can be brutal."[/b] One gloved finger traced the sharkskin gently, drawing small spirals down the length as Zerstoren slipped the blade out gently, tracing finger down it gently and lovingly. He let it slip back into the sheath, turning around and stalking his way over to the Military Ward, but snapped head around when he heard the familiar squish and wet thud of a punch. He grit his teeth, eyes flaring.

He came up on the two, reaching behind his back and unstrapping Eisbrecher. He held it lightly in his right hand, speaking in a quiet but commanding voice.

[b]"You two. Up, off the ground, now."[/b] They stopped mid punch, lowering their hands turning to him. Who the hell was this guy, dressed in black and...wielding a gigantic polearm? Immediately, the two backpedaled, realizing who they were looking at by his weapons alone. Zerstoren sighed softly and looked at them, twirling the blade around quite easily. The metal stung the air, and just as quickly as he had advanced on them, Eisbrecher was hilted into the ground as Zerstoren decended upon them.

[b]"You two need to take your petty problems off the street and refrain from beating the crap out of each other. I won't have it on these streets and I'm sure the Mage General wouldn't like it too much either."[/b] They looked at each other, slumping down softly as they nodded, turning around and making their ways back home.

[b]"When I took the position I didn't think that I'd have to be a babysitter either..."[/b] Zerstoren chuckled softly to himself, relacing the polearm on his back and making his way home.[/color][/size]

[Revelation]

[size=1][color=#1874CD][B]Name-[/B] Dimma Sársauki
[B]Age-[/B] 37
[B]Gender-[/B] Male
[B]Race-[/B] Malroy, but resides in the Realm of the Dead
[B]Occupation-[/B] N/A
[B]Position-[/B] The Black Mage
[B]Weapon-[/B] Having been a man of many battles, Kikilith carries with him a bloodstained broadsword made from the greatest of sword smiths in Malroy. Its black steel creates a resonating fear in the hearts of those who are near it. The red engravings that are burned into it shine brightly in battle, waving its ferocity and roaring its name, which has come to be known as Morte Dissadatore- Dragon of Death.

[B]Spells-[/B]
[URL=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/76/Triquetra_on_book_cover.jpg][i]Circus Consisto Funestus [Circle of Death]:[/i][/URL] This particular spell isn?t often used in battle for it binds the people standing within and absorbs their life energy. It is quite difficult to remove as well as difficult to cope with for the longer people are trapped within it, the weaker they get and the darker their hearts become; the seal also has the capability of changing the living to the undead- only rumored though.

[i]Lampas Effervo [Meteor Swarm]:[/i] By far, this spell is Dimma?s favorite. He is able to create a large amount of wisps of fire and swarm his enemies. At times, he can use it as a minor spell to set afire something or a major spell to deflect other offensive attacks. This is a spell that is flexible, unlike his former spell.

[B]Appearance-[/B] [URL=http://img525.imageshack.us/img525/4213/kadajvt8.jpg]What a pretty man![/URL] [Kadaj @ [URL=http://wen-m.deviantart.com/]Wen-M[/URL]]
To fit his title and his personality, Dimma wears dark colored outfits that tend to allow him free movement. He despises armor for in his mind, it shows weakness and because of this, he is seen without any protection- his sword, his magic, and his clothes are all he needs.

[B]Personality-[/B] Just as his title would suggest, Dimma is found to be a cold and dark man who can cause an entire room to shudder just at the mere sound of his name. He has the ability to strike fear into the hearts of even the strongest and bravest people, living and undead. He is enshrouded by darkness but is never tainted by the evil it brings; although, he sides with the dark itself. In the world of darkness that he walks upon, he is probably the darkest light anyone will ever find.

Yet, amongst the sea of ?people? Dimma hides another side of himself. He is a man whose eyes are cold and alone, fragments of loneliness sparkling within them. He has a tendency to keep to himself, never really speaking unless necessary- a trait he had picked up long ago. In all, he is a rogue running from the past regressions, suffering from the cold he?s brought upon himself, turning distant and lonely with no one to be by his side. The jaded eyes have begun to forget the past but his frozen heart retains the warmth he once knew, yearning to be broken from the icy imprisonment it?s come to know, calling for the one who knew him well, calling for his brother.

[B]Excerpt of Character-[/B] The echoing moans had never disturbed Dimma, nor had it chased him to a corner. It felt comforting, frighteningly comforting. The cries of the people living in Hades was like a melancholic song upon his ears- each scream, each sob- just a simple melody flittering all around him. Such correlating affinities were of no use to him, or at least he would have liked to think that.

Dimma stood at the balcony and began to think of the days he had first arrived in the Realm of the Dead; everything was desolate and people were frenetic, filled with fear of being destroyed by the people of Terra. He, who escaped from Terra, stood at the gate of Hades- the land of the dead. It was there that he had proclaimed his dream. It was there that he was accepted as one of few who would be welcomed as one of their own.

Sighing, Dimma turned away from the sight of the lands below. He walked down the long corridor only to pass by Soli Discordia- a Yarou soldier allied with the Meram. The two stood by each other, shoulders nearly touching. Dimma?s eyes looked forward while Soli?s head turned to her left, looking at Dimma?s pale featured face and glimmering silver hair. Instead of exchanging greetings as most would, the two exchanged newfound wounds; however, Soli and Dimma decided to keep it civil?for once.

[B]?The army grows stronger and larger, are you definite you can lead them to victory, Dimma??[/B] Dimma closed his eyes and said nothing. Silence filled with eerie corridor in which the two stood, Soli was the first to break it. [B]?You are part of the Yarou, there?s no need for you to pity the humans now.?[/B]

This had brought the silver-haired man back to reality, along with it a scoff. [B]?Pity? I don?t pity anyone, especially not least the living. I care nothing for those damned fools,?[/B] He clenched his fists while saying, [B]?I?ll destroy them all?each and every last one of them.?[/B]

A smirk crawled across Soli?s face as the words met her ears. She walked on, leaving Dimma behind. Even though Dimma holds his position as The Black Mage, Soli was one of the few who were deemed true as she spoke to him in an unlikely matter and with such vivid aggressive dominance, though not completely dominative. He unclenched his now bleeding fists and walked on, echoing the words he had said before in his head over and over.

[B][i]?I?ll destroy them all?I?ll destroy them all?I?ll destroy them all??[/B][/i]

---

Drama is always welcome. Sibling rivalry- oh what scandals and terror will this bring?
By the way, I found a really great picture for the Teakch: [URL=http://www.santharia.com/pictures/losmios/losmios_pics/maerquis_darkhorse.jpg]Here![/URL][/size][/color]

[DeathKnight]

[color=crimson][b]Name[/b]: Goes by the nom de guerre 'Crow'.

[b]Age[/b]: 29.

[b]Gender[/b]: Male.

[b]Race[/b]: Malroy.

[b]Occupation[/b]: Mage.

[b]Weapon[/b]: [b]The Girl[/b]- The Girl is a three foot tall female doll that has long brown hair and is dressed in a rather formal green dress. Her skin is pale white and marred with a series of azure runes, a script that was placed there as she was granted life. Her eyes are purple and let off soft glow that fluctuates erratically. She was granted sentience by Crow several years back and has served as a kind of familiar for the mage since, handling chores and mindless tasks. In combat she has an inhuman level of speed and agility. Tough and hard to injure, she can sustain a considerable amount of damage before slowing down. She lacks real strength though, being easily overpowered by flesh and blood creatures and is forced to rely on her speed and precision over brute strength. Her dresses' pockets hide a considerably advanced portal spell that hides away small, cubby hole sized dimensional spaces within. Lurking within are a wide range of daggers and throwing knives that she uses for combat.

The Girl's personality has developed slowly, but steadily over the years. She is reserved amongst strangers, only becoming really open around Crow's comrade Mages or members of the Army. Still she is mostly quiet and shy around others. Her loyalty to Crow and Malroy is unwavering, almost bordering on fanaticism.

A point of contention between herself and Crow is the fact she is nameless. Crow insists that she will 'earn herself' a name in good time.

[b]Spells[/b]: [b]Earthcrystals[/b]- Massive, razor sharp crystals burst from the ground around and underneath the victim. Crow can raise them straight out of the ground and use them as massive projectiles if necessary. The crystals are very durable and difficult to destroy by low quality weapons or their low quality wielders. Defensively, a wall of these crystals can be formed around whatever necessary offering a temporary protection against spells and a formidable defense against melee weaponry.

[b]Abomination[/b]- Melds together a beast several men tall made of the above crystals, granting it a limited form of sentience under complete control by Crow. It is a war machine, cutting down anything in it's path. Conceptualized as a siege machine, a monster that could rip down any wall but, thus far, that has not been realized.

[b]Life Arcana[/b]- Crow is well versed in magic dealing with existence and life having an extensive enough knowledge to easily give and take life to formerly inanimate beings. More muted is an ability to heal or sap a person's strength or even tinker with their very soul itself. Difficult to cast and control due to the nature of the body and soul, they are only rarely used in heated battle.

[b]Appearance[/b]: [url=http://img140.imageshack.us/img140/8973/fegcart032ft.jpg]Here[/url] is Crow dressed in his usual traveling attire. The heat doesn't seem to have much affect on him as dark as his outfit is.

[b]Personality[/b]: Reserved and slow to anger, Crow is pretty noncommital about things and seems bored of his surroundings. His actions are more eccentric than his words- only a certain type of person would bring a doll to life, after all. Even within the Mages he has a well-known history of magical misadventures involving his experimentations. Well read and well spoken, he spends portions of his free time playing strategic board games with anyone willing to play. Otherwise he is off doing his duty or at home studying.

[b]Excerpt of Character[/b]: The opposing pieces on the board stared at each other unwaveringly. A smokey odor wafted through the air from Crow's lit pipe as he puffed on it engrossed in thought. Examining the board intently, he finally found a good place to strike within the line of pieces.

"Huh." He said and looked up to his opponent, "You must be slipping, Zer." He moved a piece and nodded to himself, "Your move."

Crow's opponent was the last person you wanted to willingly match strategic wits with. Zerstoren Maskau, the brilliant mind from the Armed Forces, a mind that was sharp and eager for battle. The best Crow had done against him thus far was lose in style. Still, everyone else had been busy or still stinging from defeat except for Zerstoren so here he was, putting up a consistent losing effort.

"Do you think so?" Was Zerstoren's reply, his eyes boring a hole into the board as he considered his options.

"Well, I hope so." Crow said and set his pipe down. He grabbed a nearby glass and took a long drink, eyeing Zerstoren all the while.

"Hope won't salvage this game for you." Zerstoren said as he moved his piece, parrying the strike Crow had made just a second earlier. He looked up with a satisfied expression on his face and gestured to Crow, "Your move."

Crow set the glass down and returned to smoking his pipe, his eyebrows furrowing at the board. He seemed to be constantly on the defensive in this game and had difficulty swinging any of the momentum in his favor. He was certainly in a rut and there was nothing that could save him..

"Crow!" A young woman's voice called out.

Ahh, there was one thing that could save him. He looked over to the Girl as she hurried up, out of breath and flustered.

"Oh, if it isn't the Girl." He looked at the diminutive doll and tilted his head slightly to the side, "Is something wrong?"

"Yes. The Mage General requests your presence." She replied and straightened out her dress, before noticing Zerstoren to the side. "Oh! My apologies, Hello General Maskau." She gave a slight bow to him, "How are you?"

"I'm just fine." He said to the Girl with a slight smile, "It sounds like you have something important to do. Crow," He stood and offered his hand to Crow, "Good game."

Crow took his hand and shook it, "Good game, Zer. I'll beat you at least once someday."

"I'll look forward to that game, Crow. See you later." Zerstoren gave a wave and walked away from the table, leaving the small side room Crow used for games.

"Well then." Crow stood and cracked his neck, "Let's not keep the General waiting." He removed the pieces from the board and placed them into a small bag placing both the bag and the board on a nearby shelf. Pipe in hand he walked out of the room, the Girl following behind him.

"So," He said, "What was this all about? Some kind of meeting? Perhaps an order?"

"I haven't the faintest." The doll replied, keeping in step with Crow. "The General just noticed me and asked me to get you."

"I see." Crow replied and shrugged, "It has already been one year. Maybe we're due for a new conflict."

The Girl looked up to Crow and frowned, "Don't say that like you want one."

"I don't particularly want one but.. vengeance is a disease every human carries, especially those brutish Meram."

Silence fell between the two of them, the Girl seeming to reflect on that thought as they went. The corridor they were in was a rather obscure offshoot from the main building, a relatively quiet place that was the perfect environment for his games. A short walk brought them back into the main building. It was usualy a pretty busy place, administrative issues mixing with personal issues as everyone went about their business.

Ahead a red-haired woman was walking briskly towards them, heading towards the exit of the building. It was Azel walking with her glaive in hand, away from the library. The content look on her face told it all- she had discovered some new subject matter to study. It was an image he had seen many times as she was very bookish, even in comparison to the Mage General or Crow.

"Greeting Miss Clyne." The Girl was the first to say hello, matching it with a usual shy bow.

"Hello Azel." Crow greeted her with a wave, "How are things?"

"Better, now." She responded and smiled.

"Ah. Are you off to study?" Crow didn't need to ask, really.

"Yes I am, I just came from the library actually. I had a bit of.. trouble." Her eyebrow perked up a bit as she spoke.

"Trouble?" Crow asked questioningly.

"Hm? Oh, it was nothing that bad. Just a bit of a mishap."

"Ahh, I see. Well, I best get going.. the General summoned me. Enjoy yourself, Azel." Crow waved to her and continued on down the hallway.

"Goodbye Miss Clyne! Sorry for the brief conversation, you know how Crow is.." The Girl said and bowed once more. "I'll see you later!"

"No trouble at all! Goodbye you two." She responded and waved to them both, smiling as she patted the book in her pocket.

-~-

Crow and the Girl walked into the Office of the General, a rather pristine room full of ornate furniture. The majority of the furniture were bookcases filled to the brim with various tomes, books and scrolls detailing administrative matters, magical knowledge and the history of Malroy. The smell of incense lurked in the air as the Mage General stood and nodded to Crow.

"I have something I wish to discuss with you.."[/color]

[Epsilon]

[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1] Wonderful story, Ezekiel. Please notify me if anything needs be altered or if my sign up is errored thus far.

------------

[b][i]Sign Up-[/b][/i]

[b]Name:[/b] Soli Discordia.
[b]Age:[/b] Appears 26.
[b]Gender:[/b] Female.
[b]Race:[/b] Yarou.

[b]Occupation:[/b] Solider. [i](Allied w/ Meram.)[/i]
[b]Position:[/b] Specialist.

[b]Weapon:[/b] Duel Rapiers.
[i] - Relatively slender, blade 2.5 centimeters in width and 95 centimeters in length. These two swords are sharply pointed. Well kept and sharpened. These The blades are composed of two different strong metals, iron and steel, melded into one blade. Coming up from where the blade meets the hilt is a thin strip of darker colored steel. This strip ends at mid point of the blade, looping into a thin oval hole within the blade.

The handle and hilt of Soli's rapiers are relatively simple. The top rounding in a slight sphere fallowing downwards. As two more stripes of the darker metals cross to form a curved x. The handle it's self is ridged and collored black. Covered in slightly decaying bandages.

Because of the dullness of the nervs in her finger tips, there is string wrung tightly around each of her fingers. This is usually used as a cutting or trapping device.[/i]

[b]Spells:[/b] N/A.

[b]Appearance:[/b] [URL=http://img104.imageshack.us/img104/3827/solikb4.jpg]Please Click Here.[/URL] [i][color=gray](Character and drawing © My-self. Please do not use or reproduce without permission, etc. )[/color][/i]

[b]Personality:[/b] Om Ni Me Hung. Bliss and pride to passion and desire. The fear of poverty and the feeling of possessiveness to things held dear. Aggressive as a fighter, Soli is annoyed by others easily. However this does not show normally unless provoked or bothered. Preferring to keep silence and speak when it's mandatory.

There is an odd silence and high tension that seems to fallow her around. Soli becomes a hot head in debates or while strategically planning. She refuses to be wrong. Soli is often called brutally honest and too serious, pointing out the flaws of others and her own battle actions. Intelligent, there are few who stand up to her.

This goes the same for in battle, strong and merciless. She has earned a reputation for being such a low ranking soldier for not letting others off with put an extensive blow.

[b]Excerpt of Character:[/b]

[i]Hades: Realm of the Dead : 1 Year ago.[/i]

[b]"You're so annoying."[/b] Voice unwavering, Soli's finger tips danced along the hand of her rapiers. An insistent tapping as the strings slowly unwound from her fingers. Trailing down, the string had been stained red. [b]" Always awaiting your disaster."[/b]

The humans stared, stunned, stumbling, and stuck. They could not return to their out post anymore. Slowly and carefully they began to retreat, not yet turning their backs, forming the classic tactical position of a small circle. The other Yarou began to revolve round the small group, all of them slowly drawing closer. Watching them closely, Soli smiled, twirling her rapiers they flipped and rounded about hand quickly. Her body swaying slightly before charging to meet the lead human. The other Yarou bounding forward.

[i]Terra: Realm of the Living : Current Day.[/i]

The three tacticians of the Meram paced back and fourth. Soli stared, leaning back against the shores' rocks. A rapier in her hand, she trailed the blade within the water, waiting. Small bubbles floating through the ripples as they moved away. Tracing the sign of infinity in the mud and sand. She watched as the water flowed, sweeping it away. Stroking her cheek with her other hand. Pulling at her skin, Soli torn light layers of skin of. Letting them fall and catch light breezes.

Seeing a small piece of Soli's rotting skin flow by on the wind, Tory looked up from the beauty of the water. He scorned slightly his face scrunching in disgust. His foot prints left behind him in the sand as walked near her. [b]"Must you do that now? It's repulsive." [/b] She made no answer or any form of reply. Her hand continued to stroke her rapier through the water. Ignoring his presence completely.

Kneeling down beside her, he tilted his head to see the other side of her cheek. Unable to Tory grabbed her head by the chin his other yanking her hand away, he pulled her head over and pressing down. So that the opposite side of her face was exposed. Soli's finger dips a dark red she had stripped away the layers of dead, rotting, skin. Only to reveal small areas of live skin, bleeding. He stared, dropping her hand and releasing her chin. Tory slapped his hand across the cheek closest to him.

[b]"That dead skin is protective to you, isn't it?"[/b] Angry he took the rapier from Soli's hand. Striking it down in between the rocks. [b]"You're bored, so you tear your skin apart. Can't you be more productive?"[/b]

Soli smiled. [b]"Can't you be more useful?"[/b]

Another tactician stopped, coming up behind Tory. [b]"We can find a better use for her."[/b]

She smiled, staring at the other two tacticians. She moved her hand back to her cheek, covering it with her palm. The final tactician came placing his hand upon Tory's shoulder. He jerking his hand away, Tory turned more angry then before.

[b]"I've been appointed director of the Yarou units. I don't need either one of your help!"[/b]

Tory's head fell back as he took a slight step to the side. Soli stood, wrapping her arm around his neck, pulling back with her hand. He grabbed her arm, trying to pull away. Watching the glistening of string in the light.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Billy Shears]

[COLOR=DarkRed][SIZE=1]I hope this takes off like crazy. So much potential...[/SIZE][/COLOR]
[CENTER][SIZE=1]---[/SIZE][/CENTER]

[COLOR=Green][SIZE=1]Name: Haris Montralem
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Race: Malroy

Occupation: Soldier

Weapon: A hastily crafted large axe. Its is double-sided and has no adornment whatsoever. The head is cast of iron and the handle is solid wood. The hilt is wrapped with leather to ensure a steady grip and prevents splinters. Even though it isn't of the highest quality or nice looking, Haris has come to really enjoy using it. He has nicknamed it "Ralphonso".

Spells: N/A

Apperance: Haris is very tall, standing roughly at 6 feet 4 inches. He is well built, but not a musclehead. He has short black hair that he just combs down, and narrow brown eyes. He usually wears a loose shirt with a pair of worn-out jeans. His face is square-jawed and chiseled, and he has a long, pointed nose. Is eyebrows are thick, but not bushy. He usually has a bag slung around his shoulder where he keeps money and odds and ends he finds.

Personality: Haris is goofy and fun-loving. A man of quick wit and an even quicker temper, he can be a hard person to handle. But, most people can see past that and really like him. He is pretty open on most subjects and is passionate about his beliefs. He will tell you when you make a mistake, and will tell you how to better it. Haris can be your best friend or your worst enemy. If you do something that seriously upsets him, he will hold a grudge. But if you are friendly, you will have a good bddy and someone who will make you laugh.

But on the battlefield, it's a totally different story...Haris becomes ruthless and unpredictable, a straight-faced murderer. He has no remorse for what he kills. The rush of battle locks out all his other senses, and his main target is the enemy.

Excerpt of Character: [I]Malroy marketplace, 6 months ago...[/I]

[B]"I need some kind of weapon. I'm gonna be a soldier."[/B] Freya looked at him strangely. Haris put down a small amount of money on the counter. Freay took one look at it and chuckled.

[B]"Haris, a blacksmith of my caliber can craft you the greatest weapon ever. But when you come up to my place with that much money, I ain't gonna make your poor butt Excalibur."[/B] Haris looked down in dissapointment.

[B]"Well, what can you make with this, Freya?" [/B] The blacksmith scratched his head, deep in thought.

[B]"You know, I've known you a while Haris. You are a good guy. I'll give you a discount. What do you want?"[/B] Haris smiled and leaned over the counter.

[B]"I want an axe. A double-sided axe. Dont make it really fancy, just sharp as possible. It doesn't have to be too big, but big enough."[/B] Freya smiled and gave Haris a nod of approval. Haris laughed.

[B]"Hey, I got a nickname lined up for it already!"[/B] The blacksmith tured around and gave a quizzical look at Haris.

[B]"Ralphonso!"[/B] Haris burst into a huge laugh. Freya just kept staring.

[B]"What, you don't like it?" [/B]

The blacksmith responded, [B]"What the hell kinda name is 'Ralphonso', Haris? That might be the stupidest name for an axe I ever heard! If you would have called it 'Kitty', I would be happier with that, not 'Ralphonso!'"[/B] Haris kept laughing. [B]"Well screw it! It's your axe!"[/B] Haris said goodbye, while Freya was still grumbling about Haris positivley silly nickname.

Haris walked out into the bright, sunlit marketplace. A new feeling of belonging ran though his blood. He was going to quit his job at the quarry and make some real money being a soldier. [/SIZE][/COLOR]

[CENTER][SIZE=1]---[/SIZE][/CENTER]

[COLOR=DarkRed][SIZE=1]Hope you like it!

-the one and only [/SIZE] [/COLOR]

[Disenchanted]

[SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Renyr Armorel
[B]Age: [/B] 30
[B]Gender:[/B] Male
[B]Race:[/B] Malroy

[B]Occupation:[/B] Blacksmith
[B]Position:[/B] Solider
[B]Weapon:[/B] A simple [URL=http://img156.imageshack.us/img156/271/swordssic8.png]longsword[/URL], the blade has no distinct markings other than a small ?R? calved into the base of the hilt. Renyr also carries 3 small throwing daggers of a similar look to his sword.

[B]Appearance: [/B][URL=http://img301.imageshack.us/img301/945/gate77dd5.png] [B]Renyr[/B][/URL]
He can usually be found wearing the gray sleeveless tank top in the picture with a pair of black baggy pants with a thick black leather belt. He wears large black combat boots, sometimes he can be found wearing a long, hooded brown leather coat. He can only be found wearing the coat at night or late afternoon, or in cold conditions. Around both wrists he wears [URL=http://www.leather.com/images/gloves/gauntlet1_leather_motorcycle_biker_gloves_(250).jpg]black leather gauntlets[/URL], these are for supporting his wrists when he is doing his job or fighting.

[B]Personality:[/B] Renyr is generally kind and levelheaded but at times he can be sullen and a little quick to anger. He can be very impatient when it comes to decisions of any nature and sometimes runs headlong into a situation before thinking about what he?s done. Renyr can be very impatient with people as well, sometimes snapping at them and saying inappropriate things, apologies usually follow.

Renyr is well known among the lower ranking troops for being very tenacious in battle. Once he has locked onto a target he will peruse it until he has destroyed it. From normally being kind in his usual dealings, Renyr becomes cold and unforgiving in battle. He will do anything to protect his allies and friends, even if he doesn?t like them or they don?t like him.

[B]Excerpt of Character:[/B][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][B]?You?re late, again.? [/B] Renyr didn?t look up at his wife as she spoke, he couldn?t bare it.

[B]?Sorry?? [/B] was all that he could force out of his mouth. His home life had been rocky lately, for the pas few months actually. It was only that afternoon that Renyr had been told by a friend, his wife was committing adultery. Renyr confronted the man, after some persuading with a red hot iron poker he had confessed everything.

He slowly walked across the room and into their main bedroom, he looked at their bed and then looked away disgusted. Renyr packed a few things, not much, and walked back out into the main room of their small house. The look on his face was of a man utterly dejected. Looking up at him, his wife must have put two and two together.

She was a beautiful woman, one that any man dreams of having loved him. Without speaking a word her brilliant green eyes pleaded with him to stay, he searched them for any signs of remorse but found none.

[B]?Ren I?m sorry??[/B] He stopped in the doorway, his figure silhouetted by the moon light that streamed in through the open doorway. Renyr looked up towards the sky; a full moon was perched high, surrounded by stars. The occasional cloud floated across the vast expanse. Try as he might, he couldn?t forgive her.

[B]?Don?t expect me to forgive you.?[/B] He whispered. She began sobbing as he stepped out into the cold night, wrapping himself up in his long coat and pulling up the hood.

[CENTER][B]= = = = [/B] [/CENTER]

It had been no more than two or three hours before Renyr had some unexpected visitors at his foundry. Three figures cloaked stood before Renyr, imposing, they had a strange air about them. The figure in the middle was the first to speak; he couldn?t see their faces, obscured in shadow from the moon light.

[B]?Are you Armorial? Blacksmith??[/B] Renyr nodded, the man?s voice was low and cold. If he wasn?t in such a nihilistic mood Renyr may have been scared.

[B]?We have a proposition for you?? [/B]

= = = =

Edit: All finished, I couldn't really think of anything exciting to write for the excerpt.[/SIZE]

[Sakura]

[SIZE=1][B]OOC:[/B] Yaaaay~, I'm glad you decided to redo this, 'Zeke. Hope you don't mind I used mostly my old sign up with a few changes. Let me know if you wish for anything to be altered.

[COLOR=Navy][B]Name:[/B] Azalea "Azel" Clyne ([I]Ah-zay-lee-ah "Ah-zell" Klein[/I])

[B]Age:[/B] 26

[B]Gender:[/B] Female

[B]Race:[/B] Malroy

[B]Occupation:[/B] None

[B]Position:[/B] Female Mage

[B]Weapon:[/B] [URL=http://www.conqueronline.com/guide/images/tr.jpg]Glaive[/URL], a handy weapon because it can be used for physical attacks and for amplifying her magic.

[B]Spells:[/B]
[I][B]Fire Spin:[/B][/I] Creates a stream of flame that quickly wraps itself around the enemy like a large fire tornado, used for trapping, interrogation or just normal attack. She can make the flames get closer by squeezing her open hand slightly, when she closes it completely around the enemy, her hand will be a fist.

[I][B]Flame Shield:[/B][/I] For protection she'll call on her fire powers which will surround her and/or her allies, and it will incinerate or melt anything or anyone that touches it.

[I][B]Fire Storm:[/B][/I] Azalea's most powerful attack, the sky becomes covered in clouds and it rains fire, then several Fire Spins will appear and will attack anything or anyone in its path. This attack causes the most damage but Azalea only uses it sometimes, mainly in desperate times, because it uses a lot of energy and she becomes exhausted after casting it.

[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://www.clear-rain.net/mei/gallery/wizardf.jpg]Here[/URL], but her hair is much longer, reaching down to her waist.

[B]Personality:[/B] Azalea is a quiet person and enjoys reading, usually a spell book. She has one in particular that she keeps with her always in a pocket in her cloak. It's full of particularly strong fire attacks that she's trying to learn. She's a friendly kind of person and likes to be with the other mages that belong to Malroy. She enjoys to spend time with the General because s/he's kind, and teaches her. Azalea doesn't usually become angry, unless its against the Merams, who she shows no tolerance to.

[B]Excerpt of Character:[/B]
Azalea was positioned on a cliff overlooking the ocean, the cold salty breeze blew past her and billowed her cloak out behind her. Her reddish brown hair whisked about in the wind but Azel paid no heed to it. Her grey eyes focussed on something on the horizon that glittered in the light. She knew not what it was but stood entranced. Using her left hand, Azalea reached into a pocket of her cloak and retrieved a thick, tattered book. She whirled around, making her cloak fly again, she walked away, her shoes making crunching noises against the loose gravel and sand, her glaive thumping the ground like a walking stick.

Azel's eyes scanned around, looking for watchers before ducking into a small tunnel that she had discovered. She held her hand palm up and a ball of fire appeared, using the light to guide her, she continued through the tunnel until she reached a cavern. She snapped her fingers and the flame divided into several smaller ones and spread across the room, lighting the candles situated around. Azalea sat in a dusty, frayed armchair heavily, causing dust to spray and disperse. She rested her glaive against the wall behind her and turned her attention to the book she carried. Azel flipped open the book gently as to make sure that the hard cover didn't detach itself. She flicked through the thick parchment like pages quickly, knowing what it was exactly that she was looking for. She had studied this tome for many years, still trying to master all of the powerful flame spells contained within.

She found the page she was searching for and read it over. She frowned with distress, she had done all that it said to do and looked over at the adjoined page, which was a different spell all together. Azalea's eyebrows knitted as she brought the book closer to her face, there looked like a page had been torn from the book. She stood and searched for an eyeglass, putting it over the fold of the book she examined the pages, sure enough, there was evidence of a page being torn. Azel cursed loudly and stood, closing the book swiftly, she slipped it back into the pocket and retrieved her glaive, she stomped out of the cavern, snapping her fingers to extinguish the flames. She walked along and exited the tunnel.

[B]"I'll check the library, perhaps it...fell out."[/B] she said doubtfully, a frown etched on her features.

Azalea sighed into the wind as she made her way back to the building. When Azalea had arrived at the building she met with the General, mentioning that she would be in the library if anyone wanted her. The General just shrugged as s/he wasn't surprised, Azalea spent a lot of time in the library studying different spell books, wanting to become stronger and perhaps become General Mage some day. Azel pushed the large double doors open as she entered the library section of the building. She greeted the librarians on duty and walked toward the area where she usually sat. She scanned the shelves carefully, looking for any trace of her missing page. When her search was unsuccessful she let out a noise of frustration, making one of the librarians hurry over to her to see if she could be of assistance. Azalea told her of her problem and she smiled, leading her over to the counter. She went behind it and searched below, surfacing with a thick parchment-like page, the same type as her book. She showed it to her and she grabbed it with a large smile on her face, asking why she had it. She explained that when she had been in a hurry to leave, she had closed the books harshly and pulled another book she was reading out of her Flame book, taking the page too. By the time they had found it, she had left and they kept it for her. Azel thanked them and left, in a better mood than when she had entered.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Blayze]

[center][b][size=1]Name: [/size][/b][size=1]Garrek Flynt[/size]
[size=1][b]Age: [/b]27[/size]
[size=1][b]Gender: [/b]Male[/size]
[size=1][b]Race: [/b]Urla[/size]
[size=1][b]Occupation: [/b]Soldier[/size]
[size=1][b]Position: [/b]Special Operations[/size]

[size=1][b][u]Weapons: [/u]

[/b]Garrek carries two short swords, which he has strapped onto his back in two sheaths. He was issued with these once he entered the Special Operations unit of the Urla army. They are nothing special, they aren't enchancted, but they do well for him.[/size]

[size=1]He also carries two dagger which look like shards of unblemished ice, except many, many times harder and more solid. They are more like diamonds, and almost unbreakable. He can also attach them together by the hilts and form a small double-ended knife, which Garrek can spin with extraordinary speed and accuracy.[/size]

[size=1][b][u]Spells:[/u]

[/b]N/A[/size]

[b][size=1][u]Appearance:[/u]

[url="http://rainbowcoast.holy.jp/kanasama-gippal.jpg"]Here[/url] [/size][/b][size=1]Garrek is a handsome, tanned man. He has spent most of his life in the sun, and on the ice, the reflections tanning his skin deeply. He carries his daggers on his hips and his swords on his back, strapped on by a thick leather thong. He usually wears a long black travelling cloak. He lost his eye in a battle long ago, and has worn the eyepatch ever since.[/size]

[size=1][b][u]Personality:
[/u]
[/b]Garrek has often been described in only one way: sarcastic. He is always cracking jokes at other people's expense, but he is still well-liked, as he only ever does it jokingly.[/size]

[size=1]However, he is dead serious about working as a soldier, and he holds a deep resentment about the opposing army. Many people he knew were killed when the Malroy army was wiped out, and he has held a grudge ever since.

[/size] [size=1][b][u]Character Excerpt: [/u]

[/b][coming soon][/size]
[/center]
[size=1]
Sorry I have to edit this later, Jamie, I'll get it done ASAP.
[/size]

[JJ]

[Font=Arial][Center][B]Name:[/B] Malika Gréange

[B]Age:[/B] 26

[B]Gender:[/B] Female

[B]Race:[/B] Malroy

[B]Occupation:[/B] Mage

[B]Weapon:[/B] A wooden gnarled staff with a light blue crystal orb is Malika weapon of choice. Cliché as it may be, Malika has always loved the feeling of good sturdy wood in her hands. She?s also started painting the wooden part blue through a magic spell she found in the library at the Mage?s Headquarters.

[b]Spells:[/b]
[I]Accio Prodigium (Summon Monster)[/I]
Malika recites the all too familiar chant to summon one Monster of her choice from the ground. Her choices lay in those monsters she has killed before and knows the correct words to summon them.
The words are learned from the monster themselves after Malika talks to them through another spell. It?s dangerous, pitting her against the monster for a second time with limited magic. After she defeats the monster, it explodes into a thousand particles, which then spell out exactly what she needs.

[I]Aquilus Fulgor (Black Lightning)[/I]
Malika once again recites a chant to gather her power. As the last word rolls off her tongue, a black streak of lightning streaks across the sky and a second then strikes the designated area, sending the normal voltage of electricity and a surge of dark energy as well.
The dark energy saps life out of the met targets and feeds it back to Malika or anyone she commands it too.

[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://www.kh2.co.uk/assets/kh2/images/img270.jpg]Here[/URL]
Malika wears dark blue robes, as expected, although underneath she wears leather armor on her chest and leggings on her legs.

[B]Personality:[/B]
Malika is a very brash person. She acts first and thinks about it later. Her mouth runs at a mile a minute sometimes and it?s been know to get her into more than just one or two fights nightly. She does know how to listen though, letting people talk before she inserts her opinion, trying to keep up some form of politeness.

Unknown to most though, Malika does have a soft spot for those who can?t or don?t want to speak up for themselves and has been known to jump to their aid.

[B]Excerpt of Character:[/B]
Malika sat in the library looking through a small, leather bound book. As her eyes scanned the page, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Those words?they were the words that he uttered the night her parents died. It was those words that summoned the horrible creature that ate her entire family.

Malika shuddered and closed the book, slipping it into her robes. She had to study this in private. She stood up from the table as was about to leave when she bumped into someone, knocking them over.

?I?m sorry.? Malika mumbled.

The other person was quiet and unmoving, causing Malika to worry. She bent over and poked at the person once. ?You OK??

?Yes, I?m fine.? She replied meekly.

?Good, now get up. You scared me.? Malika scoulded.

The girl got up and Malika noticed that she had a scar on her face. She didn?t say anything, instead helping the girl gather up the books spread out all over the floor. Something wasn?t right with that scar and Malika vowed to find out what.[/font][/center]

OOC: I will get this done before Monday, I promise. I?ll be busy all week, so Sunday?s the first day I can sit down at the computer and write again. XD Great Idea Jamie dearest~

EDIT: Done ^^

[Ezekiel]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=RoyalBlue][B]Name:[/B] Mordred Sársauki
[B]Age:[/B] 32
[B]Gender:[/B] Male
[B]Race:[/B] Malroy
[B]Occupation:[/B] Mage, also strategy specialist.
[B]Position:[/B] Mage General
[B]Weapon:[/B] A rather unimpressive (yet ancient) [URL=http://www.fmschools.org/artdepartment/clay/ceramics/Jack's-Stoneware-jug.gif][B]jug[/B][/URL].
[B]Spells:[/B]
All of Mordred?s spells use his jug as a catalyst. The jug itself is completely covered in magical runes that illuminate when he casts one of his spells. They respond to his voice, and thus, the right enchantment must be uttered for the spells to be carried out correctly.
Contain [ [I]Archi Contai[/I] ]- A spell that can trap surrounding energy or, if Mordred so wishes, people. He usually uses this to replenish his energy stores, as most of his spells take a great deal out of his frail body. Mages could deflect the containment spell, but soldiers could easily be absorbed into the jug and used as energy.

Dispel [ [I]Archi Parre[/I] ]- A simple deflection spell that creates a field of energy around the General. This spell can deflect physical attacks and most spells.

Destroy [ [I]Archi Unlea Finalti[/I] ]- The very spell that Mordred used to eliminate the Meram army. It takes a lot out of him, but unleashes such a huge amount of energy that anything in its path will be ripped apart. This, of course, means that any of his allies in the immediate area will also perish, which is the main reason why Mordred has only ever used this once, and doesn?t plan on using it again. It?s because of him using this spell against the Meram that he is now weaker than before.

[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://bishounen.info/kuja/kuja02.jpg][B]Here[/B][/URL], [URL=http://bishounen.info/kuja/kuja04.jpg][B]Here[/B][/URL] and [URL=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/6/6a/Kuja.JPG/200px-Kuja.JPG][B]Here[/B][/URL]

The armour on his torso is what Mordred wears as his uniform, as well as purple silk pants covered by golden armour around his waist. A piece of white chiffon is also wrapped around his waist and hangs down to his ankles, which are clad in golden lace-up sandals. When he isn?t in uniform, he wears a simple, dark purple robe and a white neck scarf.

[B]Personality:[/B] Mordred is almost the polar opposite to his older brother. Despite their shared features, the younger Mordred is a man who tries to be pleasant and warm even if he?d much rather be alone. He?ll never turn someone down if they want company or advice, and he tries his best to get out into the public. He believes that an army is only as strong as the faith it?s country has in them, which is why he encourages his fellow soldiers to help in any way they can.

He?s a very modest man and even though he?s been given the highest position possible, he still refuses to count himself above anyone else. He usually jokes by saying ?I was given this position simply because someone needed to do it.?

When in battle, however, Mordred?s darker traits tend to show. While he still keeps a calm demeanour, his orders will get sharper and his determination fires up considerably. He is most certainly not a good loser, possibly because his brother was always a few steps ahead of him.

[B]Excerpt of Character:[/B] Mordred slumped back in his high backed chair, a glass of port wine clasped gently in one hand, his fingers barely touching the glass. It had been one year since so many men had died at his hands?these weak hands. He supposed it was the gods paying him back for all that blood spilt, but even now he found it hard to get over the strain that had been put on his body.

He coughed softly and opened his red-rimmed eyes, the dusty makeup now smudged from tears and sleep. He hated being like this and yet some part of him said he had a duty to uphold.

He knew the Meram would do something. Those proud bastards wouldn?t rest until every Malroy mage was dead at their feet. And today of all days would be the perfect opportunity to start another war.

The mage stood and gazed out of his window, the view was spectacular from up here in his tower and as the cool morning air ran soft fingers over his skin he felt calmer.

Dimma was out there somewhere. No doubt causing pain and destruction. He imagined that his brother would soon be coming after him, as well, the only one standing in the way of ultimate power.

Mordred was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on his door. He turned and smiled as Crow walked in, the Girl a little behind him.

[B]?I have something I wish to discuss with you??[/B]

Crow nodded and sat on one of the large couches in Mordred?s office, the Girl climbing up to sit next to him.

[B]?You seem worried, General.?[/B]

Mordred waved his hand as he sat down, as if to dismiss what Crow had just said, ?[B]There?s no need to be so formal, friend. Would you like some wine??[/B]

Crow shook his head and rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to look at Mordred closer, obviously studying his face.

[B]?Don?t look at me that way, Crow,?[/B] Mordred laughed, before coughing into his fist, ?[B]I?m simply?thinking. It?s the anniversary today.?[/B]

[B]?I know?I was wondering if you?d suspect something, too.?[/B]

Mordred nodded and rested back again. He closed his eyes and pulled in a deep breath, not opening his eyes again when he started to speak. [B]?Crow, I?m a weak man. If the Meram come again soon they?ll want my head and they?ll have more support??[/B]

[B]?Your brother??[/B] Crow asked, his voice not betraying the worry that was building.

[B]?Yes, possibly my brother. I?I?m not sure I can live through another battle, so I wanted you to know. If I do die out there in the dessert, you will take over from me. And I won?t take no for an answer.?[/B]

Crow stared for a moment before leaning back, the Girl looking up at him expectantly. [B]?You won?t die,?[/B] he said, softly, [B]?None of us will.?[/B][/COLOR]


[B]Seeing as a lot of people haven?t finished their sign ups, and I know Billy and JJ can?t post until after the weekend, I?m actually going to start this next week. I?d very much like to accept all of you, so if you could please finish your sign ups that would be great. I can?t believe how many good writers this has turned out.

Oh, Rev, I hope it was okay for me to make Dimma Mordred?s brother. Thought it would add some drama, ooh.[/B][/SIZE]

[Jokopoko]

[size=1][color=teal][b]Name:[/b] Sergei Sokolov.

[b]Age:[/b] 36.

[b]Gender:[/b] Male.

[b]Race:[/b] Urla.

[b]Occupation:[/b] Huntsman/Tracker.

[b]Position:[/b] Army Strategist.

[b]Weapon[/b][list]
[*][i][b]Frost Bite:[/b][/i] This Sword has been in Sergei?s family for over five generations, it was a gift from the Royal Family of the Urla. The ruby in its hilt provides it with incredible accuracy which ensures that it will always find its mark when Sergei swings it, it is also enchanted to give off a piercing chill which is how it earned its name.
[*][i][b]Bear Fang:[/b][/i] The small dagger which Sergei wears on his waist, while it is really little more than a simple dagger it holds special significance for Sergei as it was the first weapon his father ever gave him.
[*][i][b]Hunters Bow:[/b][/i] Sergei has been trained from his earliest years to be able to fire off a flurry of arrows whilst riding the War Bears of the Urla. Able to keep a keen eye as the bear charges towards the enemy Sergei is able to take out all but the furthest enemy whilst using his bow.[/list]
[b]Appearance: [url=http://www.sabertoothgames.com/warcry/files/desktops/kislev_pog_1024.jpg]Click here[/url][/b]. This showings Sergei in his soldiers attire riding his War Bear Sokhan.

[b]Personality:[/b] Sergei?s cold home is matched by his cold personality though that is not to say he is unfeeling and emotionally distant, more that he has never had cause to show his emotions in any major way. He has the character of any Warrior of Urla, strong hearted, brave and fiercely loyal to his country and kin. While he may not voice himself as often as others Sergei does have clear-cut views on life and the current war with the people of the Water. If someone where ever to annoy, or worse insult, Sergei they would know about it at once given his strong sense of pride and his traditional way of settling things.

Some may see him as a brute who rarely speaks because he is incapable of stringing enough words together but those that do know him just allow him to get on with what he is doing because they know of his stoic attitude toward others.

[b]Excerpt of Character[/b]
Dismounting from Sokhan Sergei dropped into the snow which, at this time of year, reached up to his knees. Kneeling down he looked for the tell tale signs of recent travel, there was always the obvious signs of footprints and disturbed snow but Sergei could also tell by the pattern of the steps and the depth of the prints how his quarry was walking and the speed at which they travelled.

[b]?No more than six hours ago I?d say.?[/b] Sergei said in a thick Urla accent. Walking back to Sokhan through the snow he made sure not to disturbed any of the other footprints, he stroked the Polar Bear as he thought what to do next.

Sokhan must have found something interesting in the snow as he was sniffing intently at a certain spot, Sergei raised an eyebrow and began shifting the snow. A rare smile crept onto his rough face as he examined the item, it was clearly Meram in design and could quite possibly fetch a good price on the black market. Thinking nothing of it Sergei slipped it into his back pocket.

As he began extracting some food for himself and Sokhan from one of his packs Sergei began to feel the tell tale chill in his bones that warned of an approaching snow storm, spending a life time in the wild lands of Urla had given him a sixth sense for this kind of thing.

[b]?Deirymo?[/b] He said under his breath.

Knowing it was worse to lose the track than to go hungry he stowed the food in the pack again before clambering back onto Sokhan. He gave him a apologetic pat before pulling on his reigns. With a great roar Sokhan and Sergei set forth in search of the intruder from Meram.

[center]~*~[/center]

[i]OOC:[/i] Hope this is all okay Jamie, and FYI ?Deirymo? is a Russian word so you can look it up ^_~.[/color][/size]