Post by Tismri on Oct 12, 2012 23:26:19 GMT -5
Your username: Jeriah/Tismri
Character's name: Lucius Maelin
Character's age: 33
Character's attitude: Lucius is as cold and merciless as his blade. He likes to give off the appearance of uncertainty and inexperience to make his enemies underestimate him; in reality, he is quick-witted and fast on his feet. He likes to be alone for the most part, but knows that in his quest, he needs allies. Still, he is just as likely to betray them as he is to assist them. He has but one drive and one goal in his life, but his motivations for the task are unknown even to him, aside from his mentor's pride and bidding.
Character's Race: human
Character's appearance: Lucius is just as at home in fine robes as he is in armor, whatever the occasion may call for. However, as he is travelling most of the time, he often wears a heavy tunic that has mail embedded in the fabric. He wears a light cloak for when he travels.
He's pictured in the foreground here. The other two are his current companions.
Character's allegiance: Neutral; he will ally himself with whoever he must and kill whoever he must in order to achieve his goal.
Weapons: The sword pictured. It is an enchanted weapon handed down to him from his mentor. It was made to cause immense suffering in certain individuals. He is semi-competent in other weapons, but dislikes them all aside from this powerful blade.
Other Info: His companions are up for grabs, if anyone happens to be interested.
History: Lucius was born and lived through the war between the Varden and the Empire. He lived a relatively normal life in an ordinary village until it was plundered by Empire soldiers and then became a battle ground when the Varden arrived. Most of the buildings were burned down and many of the townspeople, including his parents, were caught in the crossfire. After that, he despised both sides of the battle and hoped they would all burn.
Having been sent to an orphanage in another town, Lucius spent a lot of time railing about how he hated every living soldier. He was angry at the gods, at Galbatorix, at the Varden. He wasn't even sure who to blame. Then, when he was fifteen, an elderly man found him and heard his complaints. The old man promised to show him who was to blame for all the misfortunes across the land now. So Lucius went with him, and the old man began to train him in swordplay, archery, and every other weapon imaginable. At the same time, he taught Lucius of a Fiend who haunted Alagaesia since times long ago forgotten by men. This Fiend tore families apart, caused wars between towns, and even had a hand in driving Galbatorix to madness. The old man taught him that it was because of her actions that the Varden and the Empire were now at war, causing the battle which took his parents' lives. From that point onward, Lucius' goal became the same as his mentor's: the death of the Fiend.
The years passed and the training went well for young Lucius. He even once came almost face-to-face with the Fiend, and ended up battling a companion with her. However, his skills were not yet good enough. The Fiend ended up maiming him badly with a fireball.
As life would have it, the old man eventually grew ill. He was, after all, nearing a century in age. Lucius knew his mentor was dying and did everything he could to make his last days comfortable. However, one day the Fiend managed to sneak into their house and up to the old man's room. Lucius saw her, but was immediately striken with a paralyzing fear, unable to move as he witnessed her put a terrible curse of a spell on his mentor, fortified when she struck him with his own magical blade. Then she looked up, meeting Lucius' eyes with a ghastly smile, and then calmly left. Only after her presence was gone did Lucius feel able to move again, and he rushed to his mentor's side. The old man still seemed perilously close to death. He slowly drew the sword out of his body and handed it to the young man, asking him to accomplish what he could not: the destruction of the Fiend.
Since that time, Lucius has been scouring Alagaesia, looking for any clues as to her whereabouts. He occasionally would hear rumors, or she would make an obvious sign of her handywork, but then she would always evade him easily. Recently, Lucius has concluded that he can't do this search on his own; he needs allies to help him hunt down this animal.
Role Play Sample:
Lucius carried the dinner tray up to his mentor's bedroom, knowing that this would likely be the old man's last meal, if he even managed to eat at all. He found himself wondering what he would do when Pellew passed on. He had no idea if he wanted to devote his entire life to the same cause the old man had. Hunting the Fiend his entire life did not seem to be the sort of thing he wanted to do, no matter his own feelings on the matter. He wanted a life of his own.
He knocked gently on the door before opening it, and then nearly dropped the tray at the sight before him, instantly becoming petrified.
The Fiend was there. Standing next to old Pellew's bed. Smiling...no, smirking down at him. For a moment, Lucius was again taken by how young, and yes, beautiful she was. But that beauty held a deadly secret behind it.
"Poor Pellew," Allecia said, her voice ringing with false sympathy along with triumph. "Age, it seems, has at last caught up with you. Mortality is such a dreadful thing, isn't it?" The old man glared up at her, reaching out his hand for his sword. But he was too weak and slow now, and she moved it away from him, laughing.
"You think even now you would be able to fight me as an equal? Your sword may have the potential to kill me, but without someone to hold it, it is nothing to me." She looked down at him, brushing back a strand of white hair, like a mother to a child. "Death is far too good a fate for you. After what you did to my dear Cleon...No, I cannot allow you to simply slip away peacefully." She took Pellew's blade in her hands--an action that obviously caused herself either pain or terror, as she was trembling from the contact. She rammed the blade as hard as she could through the old man's stomach, and the blade drove through even the wooden bedframe underneath, pinning him in place. Pellew's eyes widened, and though no sound came from his mouth, Lucius could see the scream of terror and pain in his expression.
"This sword can affect the very soul of its victims, yes?" Allecia said, stepping back to admire her work. "A pity you never realized its full potential. You who had it crafted. You only ever used it to attempt to separate souls from bodies, like you did to Cleon and tried to do to me. But I...I intend to do just the opposite." A musical laugh echoed from her throat, a sound that would be hypnotizing but for the context. "Your soul shall never depart from your body. Time will continue to pass. Your pathetic disease will ravage you. But even after your heart has stopped, you will not be released. You will feel it as your eyes shrivel, your limbs rot and fall off, your bones become exposed. You will ever be a ghost unable to depart in peace. That, old friend, is my thanks to you. My thanks for destroying my entire life. For forcing me to wander through these centuries in isolation. For tormenting me with thoughts of him for all eternity."
After this speech, she finally looked up, seeing Lucius for the first time. The young man was unable to move, not even blink, for the terror he felt. She smiled at him. It seemed a sweet curve of her lips, as of one who felt truly happy. Then, she drifted past him and walked out the door.
Once she was gone, Lucius could finally move. He rushed to old Pellew's side.
"Master Pellew?" he asked, concerned. Pellew's breathing was ragged, the light dying in his eyes, his expression one of a man who knew he was doomed to suffer. He felt for the hilt of the sword left in him, and weakly pulled. Lucius helped him, and then tried to give it to Pellew. However, the old man thrust it at him, locking eyes with his young companion. His expression demanded a single thing, the hatred still burning in his gaze.
Kill her, they demanded of him. Lucius hesitated, even as Pellew's eyes grew dark and his hand limp.
"I will, Master," Lucius finally promised.
Character's name: Lucius Maelin
Character's age: 33
Character's attitude: Lucius is as cold and merciless as his blade. He likes to give off the appearance of uncertainty and inexperience to make his enemies underestimate him; in reality, he is quick-witted and fast on his feet. He likes to be alone for the most part, but knows that in his quest, he needs allies. Still, he is just as likely to betray them as he is to assist them. He has but one drive and one goal in his life, but his motivations for the task are unknown even to him, aside from his mentor's pride and bidding.
Character's Race: human
Character's appearance: Lucius is just as at home in fine robes as he is in armor, whatever the occasion may call for. However, as he is travelling most of the time, he often wears a heavy tunic that has mail embedded in the fabric. He wears a light cloak for when he travels.
He's pictured in the foreground here. The other two are his current companions.
Character's allegiance: Neutral; he will ally himself with whoever he must and kill whoever he must in order to achieve his goal.
Weapons: The sword pictured. It is an enchanted weapon handed down to him from his mentor. It was made to cause immense suffering in certain individuals. He is semi-competent in other weapons, but dislikes them all aside from this powerful blade.
Other Info: His companions are up for grabs, if anyone happens to be interested.
History: Lucius was born and lived through the war between the Varden and the Empire. He lived a relatively normal life in an ordinary village until it was plundered by Empire soldiers and then became a battle ground when the Varden arrived. Most of the buildings were burned down and many of the townspeople, including his parents, were caught in the crossfire. After that, he despised both sides of the battle and hoped they would all burn.
Having been sent to an orphanage in another town, Lucius spent a lot of time railing about how he hated every living soldier. He was angry at the gods, at Galbatorix, at the Varden. He wasn't even sure who to blame. Then, when he was fifteen, an elderly man found him and heard his complaints. The old man promised to show him who was to blame for all the misfortunes across the land now. So Lucius went with him, and the old man began to train him in swordplay, archery, and every other weapon imaginable. At the same time, he taught Lucius of a Fiend who haunted Alagaesia since times long ago forgotten by men. This Fiend tore families apart, caused wars between towns, and even had a hand in driving Galbatorix to madness. The old man taught him that it was because of her actions that the Varden and the Empire were now at war, causing the battle which took his parents' lives. From that point onward, Lucius' goal became the same as his mentor's: the death of the Fiend.
The years passed and the training went well for young Lucius. He even once came almost face-to-face with the Fiend, and ended up battling a companion with her. However, his skills were not yet good enough. The Fiend ended up maiming him badly with a fireball.
As life would have it, the old man eventually grew ill. He was, after all, nearing a century in age. Lucius knew his mentor was dying and did everything he could to make his last days comfortable. However, one day the Fiend managed to sneak into their house and up to the old man's room. Lucius saw her, but was immediately striken with a paralyzing fear, unable to move as he witnessed her put a terrible curse of a spell on his mentor, fortified when she struck him with his own magical blade. Then she looked up, meeting Lucius' eyes with a ghastly smile, and then calmly left. Only after her presence was gone did Lucius feel able to move again, and he rushed to his mentor's side. The old man still seemed perilously close to death. He slowly drew the sword out of his body and handed it to the young man, asking him to accomplish what he could not: the destruction of the Fiend.
Since that time, Lucius has been scouring Alagaesia, looking for any clues as to her whereabouts. He occasionally would hear rumors, or she would make an obvious sign of her handywork, but then she would always evade him easily. Recently, Lucius has concluded that he can't do this search on his own; he needs allies to help him hunt down this animal.
Role Play Sample:
Lucius carried the dinner tray up to his mentor's bedroom, knowing that this would likely be the old man's last meal, if he even managed to eat at all. He found himself wondering what he would do when Pellew passed on. He had no idea if he wanted to devote his entire life to the same cause the old man had. Hunting the Fiend his entire life did not seem to be the sort of thing he wanted to do, no matter his own feelings on the matter. He wanted a life of his own.
He knocked gently on the door before opening it, and then nearly dropped the tray at the sight before him, instantly becoming petrified.
The Fiend was there. Standing next to old Pellew's bed. Smiling...no, smirking down at him. For a moment, Lucius was again taken by how young, and yes, beautiful she was. But that beauty held a deadly secret behind it.
"Poor Pellew," Allecia said, her voice ringing with false sympathy along with triumph. "Age, it seems, has at last caught up with you. Mortality is such a dreadful thing, isn't it?" The old man glared up at her, reaching out his hand for his sword. But he was too weak and slow now, and she moved it away from him, laughing.
"You think even now you would be able to fight me as an equal? Your sword may have the potential to kill me, but without someone to hold it, it is nothing to me." She looked down at him, brushing back a strand of white hair, like a mother to a child. "Death is far too good a fate for you. After what you did to my dear Cleon...No, I cannot allow you to simply slip away peacefully." She took Pellew's blade in her hands--an action that obviously caused herself either pain or terror, as she was trembling from the contact. She rammed the blade as hard as she could through the old man's stomach, and the blade drove through even the wooden bedframe underneath, pinning him in place. Pellew's eyes widened, and though no sound came from his mouth, Lucius could see the scream of terror and pain in his expression.
"This sword can affect the very soul of its victims, yes?" Allecia said, stepping back to admire her work. "A pity you never realized its full potential. You who had it crafted. You only ever used it to attempt to separate souls from bodies, like you did to Cleon and tried to do to me. But I...I intend to do just the opposite." A musical laugh echoed from her throat, a sound that would be hypnotizing but for the context. "Your soul shall never depart from your body. Time will continue to pass. Your pathetic disease will ravage you. But even after your heart has stopped, you will not be released. You will feel it as your eyes shrivel, your limbs rot and fall off, your bones become exposed. You will ever be a ghost unable to depart in peace. That, old friend, is my thanks to you. My thanks for destroying my entire life. For forcing me to wander through these centuries in isolation. For tormenting me with thoughts of him for all eternity."
After this speech, she finally looked up, seeing Lucius for the first time. The young man was unable to move, not even blink, for the terror he felt. She smiled at him. It seemed a sweet curve of her lips, as of one who felt truly happy. Then, she drifted past him and walked out the door.
Once she was gone, Lucius could finally move. He rushed to old Pellew's side.
"Master Pellew?" he asked, concerned. Pellew's breathing was ragged, the light dying in his eyes, his expression one of a man who knew he was doomed to suffer. He felt for the hilt of the sword left in him, and weakly pulled. Lucius helped him, and then tried to give it to Pellew. However, the old man thrust it at him, locking eyes with his young companion. His expression demanded a single thing, the hatred still burning in his gaze.
Kill her, they demanded of him. Lucius hesitated, even as Pellew's eyes grew dark and his hand limp.
"I will, Master," Lucius finally promised.
