Post by Tismri on Aug 18, 2011 0:33:34 GMT -5
I'm going to try something really unique here...
Your username: Jeriah/Tismri
Character's name: the Armor of Malevolence
Character's age: at least a hundred years
Character's attitude: Malevolence is very spiteful and angry toward his creators, trapping him as they have in a suit of armor and only able to fully function when someone is wearing it. Towards the person wearing his armor he has mixed feelings of fear and respect, and whatever the wearer feels for him affects the balance of their relationship. Malevolence is very ambitious, though, and whatever his wearer's thoughts on the matter, he will get what he truly wants done.
Character's Race: Originally a spirit, sorcerers performed very dark and cruel magic to trap him in a suit of armor in a mad attempt to make the perfect armor, capable of giving the wearer immense power. What they did not foresee was that the spirit was capable of entering the mind of the wearer and even controlling them, much like a Shade. The spirit is known as Malevolence.
Character's appearance:
(Without the helmet) The armor itself is a completely black, one-piece suit. Whenever he appears in the wearer's mind, he appears to be a middle-aged human wearing the armor as well as a black hood. His features are rather difficult to see, except for his piercing, desperate grey eyes.
Character's allegiance: Himself, and a cooperative wearer.
Weapons: Malevolence has the ability to entrap his wearer in their own mind and take over their body for as long as he wishes. He does this mostly for self-defense and instinct for self-preservation, as he does not wish to turn his wearer against him. He can also prevent his wearer from taking the armor off. Similarly, he can grant his wearer varying degrees of power, from a minor boots in strength and speed to power matching Riders and elves. And while I'm listing his abilities, he can also speak with his wearer, whether as just a voice in their head, "face to face" within the wearer's mind, or as a somewhat ghostly image while the wearer is conscious.
Other Info: The armor sits buried in a ruined fort near the northern shore of Leona Lake, waiting for someone to discover him.
History:
Around a century ago, during the time of the Fall of the Riders, a group of sorcerers were living in an old fort near Leona Lake. This group, fearing the Riders should they decide to turn against them, decided to attempt to create something that would protect themselves again such powers. They knew the abilities a Shade could wield, and that such creatures were able to match even elves in combat and magic. They did not, however, want the madness that accompanied such a transformation. That was when the idea of the Armor entered their minds.
A few of them travelled to Ileria, which was still controlled by the elves at that point, and requested a smith there make the most excellent, perfect suit of armor he could, and they paid much for the request. Of course, being elven work, the Armor was incomprable to any other. the smith lavished all his skill on it, showing his love for his work, and the sorcerers were exceptionally pleased. They returned home with their prize.
After that, their real work commenced. Using all their mastery of sorcery and all the dark magic they knew, they summoned a single, powerful spirit and bound it to the Armor. They believed that so long as it was bound in such a way, the Armor would give them the strength and speed and agility of any magical beings, and the spirit would be unable to harm them. They were mistaken.
One sorcerer volunteered to wear the Armor, and he found that it seemed to work, though not to the satisfying degree they had hoped for. That night as he slept, the sorcerer found himself in a strange, dream-like place. He was standing in a prison cell with a stranger standing before him, wearing Armor identical to what they had created. The stranger grinned and greeted himself as the spirit they had trapped in the scrap metal, and spoke for a few moments of how the sorcerer would now get to see what it was like to be helpless and imprisoned.
With the spirit in control of the sorcerer's body, he attacked the rest of the magic-users with a vengence. They fought back, surpised and dismayed by their failure, as it seemed their friend had become what they had attempted to avoid: a Shade, or at least a form of one. Though they tried to avoided, they had to kill their friend to stop the spirit's rampage. They found that only then were they able to even remove the Armor from his body. They tried various ways of destroying it, but found it to be impossible. So the left it in a room deep in the fort, dubbing it the "Armor of Malevolence," and then left it, demolishing the building. Soon after, they commissioned an elven weaponsmith to create a weapon with which the Armor could be destroyed, should it ever be found again.
Meanwhile, the Armor waits, Malevolence remaining in a slumber-like state, only dimly aware of anything going on around him until someone comes along and discovers him. He harbors some regret to how he mistreated his first wearer, having felt the unendurable agony of his death before being reduced to his current powerless state, and has vowed to himself to treat his next wearer better.
Role Play Sample:
Malevolence opened his eyes for the first time and looked around. Tight, convoluted memories and thoughts surrounded him, all somewhat confusing. The lack of space was almost claustrophobic. He felt and sensed odd emotions he'd never had before, but mostly he felt pure fury. These ignorant magic-users, binding him to this scrap metal! They left him with no way to leave, encasing him. But all was not lost...it seemed he had some control as long as someone was wearing the Armor.
After taking a few minute to feel the rhythem of the sorcerer's mind, he confiscated a corner for himself and quickly fashioned a prison out of it. Then he waited for a while, staying quiet, until the man slept. When that happened, he forcefully interrupted the man's dreams by locking his conscious thinking inside the prison.
"Who are...is this a dream?" the sorcerer seemed to ask himself. Malevolence chuckled. It was an odd thing, and he was unused to even having a voice, much less expression emotion that way.
"Oh no, this is no dream. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the spirit you and your friends have bound to this Armor." He scowled, feeling deep fury upon even the thought of such an indignant position. The magician attempted to open the prison gate, but to no avail.
"It's of no use," Malevolence assured him, "You are trapped here, within my little piece of your mind. And now you get to see what it's like being imprisoned and helpless, unable to move a single muscle of your body." He turned away from the protesting magic-user and opened his eyes again, this time the eyes of the sorcerer. He stood and shifted around slowly, getting used to the feel of a real, physical body. He took a nearby sword and swung it a couple of times, then left the room.
The battle that ensued was complete chaos for the spellcasters, and Malevolence killed three of them before they were able to rally themselves together and discover what happened. They attempted to get close to him, to tear the Armor off in an attempt to save their friend, but to no avail. Malevolence would not be denied his mobility that easily. He avoided them and struck out at them. However, these sorcerers had been working together for many years, and each reached the same conclusion at the same time. Suddenly from all around him, Malevolence heard various cries of "brisingr," "kveykva," and other destructive spells being cast. Both he and the sorcerer he possessed screamed out in agony as the deadly barrage struck, tearing the body to pieces.
And then Malevolence could see no more. He could hear no more, nor could he move. He was once again simply bound to a pile of metal. He was vaguely aware when the Armor was removed from the remains of the body and attempts were made to destroy it. All pointless, of course. Malevolence knew the spell they cast, which was extra cruel. If ever the Armor was destroyed, he would not be freed of it. He would die. And death was something he refused.
The next thing he knew, he was alone, completely. There was no one within any sort of sensing range for him. He found himself eventually wishing and longing for someone to discover him, just so he could truly feel again. To think, see, taste, touch, smell, hear. To move. Anything besides this constant darkness.
He at one point recalled the absolute terror the sorcerer had felt just before death. He had known the man's every emotion, his indignation and dread. He found he didn't really want to make the one who gave him liberty to feel that way.
Somewhere along the line, the thought crossed his mind that he could offer something to the one who wore the Armor. He could make them more powerful, and offer to protect them when they needed to simply retreat from the world. He could offer them rest in their own mind. It was the perfect exchange for his freedom, his mobility.
Symbiosis. That was what it would be.
And so the years when by without his real knowledge of the passing time.
Your username: Jeriah/Tismri
Character's name: the Armor of Malevolence
Character's age: at least a hundred years
Character's attitude: Malevolence is very spiteful and angry toward his creators, trapping him as they have in a suit of armor and only able to fully function when someone is wearing it. Towards the person wearing his armor he has mixed feelings of fear and respect, and whatever the wearer feels for him affects the balance of their relationship. Malevolence is very ambitious, though, and whatever his wearer's thoughts on the matter, he will get what he truly wants done.
Character's Race: Originally a spirit, sorcerers performed very dark and cruel magic to trap him in a suit of armor in a mad attempt to make the perfect armor, capable of giving the wearer immense power. What they did not foresee was that the spirit was capable of entering the mind of the wearer and even controlling them, much like a Shade. The spirit is known as Malevolence.
Character's appearance:
(Without the helmet) The armor itself is a completely black, one-piece suit. Whenever he appears in the wearer's mind, he appears to be a middle-aged human wearing the armor as well as a black hood. His features are rather difficult to see, except for his piercing, desperate grey eyes.
Character's allegiance: Himself, and a cooperative wearer.
Weapons: Malevolence has the ability to entrap his wearer in their own mind and take over their body for as long as he wishes. He does this mostly for self-defense and instinct for self-preservation, as he does not wish to turn his wearer against him. He can also prevent his wearer from taking the armor off. Similarly, he can grant his wearer varying degrees of power, from a minor boots in strength and speed to power matching Riders and elves. And while I'm listing his abilities, he can also speak with his wearer, whether as just a voice in their head, "face to face" within the wearer's mind, or as a somewhat ghostly image while the wearer is conscious.
Other Info: The armor sits buried in a ruined fort near the northern shore of Leona Lake, waiting for someone to discover him.
History:
Around a century ago, during the time of the Fall of the Riders, a group of sorcerers were living in an old fort near Leona Lake. This group, fearing the Riders should they decide to turn against them, decided to attempt to create something that would protect themselves again such powers. They knew the abilities a Shade could wield, and that such creatures were able to match even elves in combat and magic. They did not, however, want the madness that accompanied such a transformation. That was when the idea of the Armor entered their minds.
A few of them travelled to Ileria, which was still controlled by the elves at that point, and requested a smith there make the most excellent, perfect suit of armor he could, and they paid much for the request. Of course, being elven work, the Armor was incomprable to any other. the smith lavished all his skill on it, showing his love for his work, and the sorcerers were exceptionally pleased. They returned home with their prize.
After that, their real work commenced. Using all their mastery of sorcery and all the dark magic they knew, they summoned a single, powerful spirit and bound it to the Armor. They believed that so long as it was bound in such a way, the Armor would give them the strength and speed and agility of any magical beings, and the spirit would be unable to harm them. They were mistaken.
One sorcerer volunteered to wear the Armor, and he found that it seemed to work, though not to the satisfying degree they had hoped for. That night as he slept, the sorcerer found himself in a strange, dream-like place. He was standing in a prison cell with a stranger standing before him, wearing Armor identical to what they had created. The stranger grinned and greeted himself as the spirit they had trapped in the scrap metal, and spoke for a few moments of how the sorcerer would now get to see what it was like to be helpless and imprisoned.
With the spirit in control of the sorcerer's body, he attacked the rest of the magic-users with a vengence. They fought back, surpised and dismayed by their failure, as it seemed their friend had become what they had attempted to avoid: a Shade, or at least a form of one. Though they tried to avoided, they had to kill their friend to stop the spirit's rampage. They found that only then were they able to even remove the Armor from his body. They tried various ways of destroying it, but found it to be impossible. So the left it in a room deep in the fort, dubbing it the "Armor of Malevolence," and then left it, demolishing the building. Soon after, they commissioned an elven weaponsmith to create a weapon with which the Armor could be destroyed, should it ever be found again.
Meanwhile, the Armor waits, Malevolence remaining in a slumber-like state, only dimly aware of anything going on around him until someone comes along and discovers him. He harbors some regret to how he mistreated his first wearer, having felt the unendurable agony of his death before being reduced to his current powerless state, and has vowed to himself to treat his next wearer better.
Role Play Sample:
Malevolence opened his eyes for the first time and looked around. Tight, convoluted memories and thoughts surrounded him, all somewhat confusing. The lack of space was almost claustrophobic. He felt and sensed odd emotions he'd never had before, but mostly he felt pure fury. These ignorant magic-users, binding him to this scrap metal! They left him with no way to leave, encasing him. But all was not lost...it seemed he had some control as long as someone was wearing the Armor.
After taking a few minute to feel the rhythem of the sorcerer's mind, he confiscated a corner for himself and quickly fashioned a prison out of it. Then he waited for a while, staying quiet, until the man slept. When that happened, he forcefully interrupted the man's dreams by locking his conscious thinking inside the prison.
"Who are...is this a dream?" the sorcerer seemed to ask himself. Malevolence chuckled. It was an odd thing, and he was unused to even having a voice, much less expression emotion that way.
"Oh no, this is no dream. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the spirit you and your friends have bound to this Armor." He scowled, feeling deep fury upon even the thought of such an indignant position. The magician attempted to open the prison gate, but to no avail.
"It's of no use," Malevolence assured him, "You are trapped here, within my little piece of your mind. And now you get to see what it's like being imprisoned and helpless, unable to move a single muscle of your body." He turned away from the protesting magic-user and opened his eyes again, this time the eyes of the sorcerer. He stood and shifted around slowly, getting used to the feel of a real, physical body. He took a nearby sword and swung it a couple of times, then left the room.
The battle that ensued was complete chaos for the spellcasters, and Malevolence killed three of them before they were able to rally themselves together and discover what happened. They attempted to get close to him, to tear the Armor off in an attempt to save their friend, but to no avail. Malevolence would not be denied his mobility that easily. He avoided them and struck out at them. However, these sorcerers had been working together for many years, and each reached the same conclusion at the same time. Suddenly from all around him, Malevolence heard various cries of "brisingr," "kveykva," and other destructive spells being cast. Both he and the sorcerer he possessed screamed out in agony as the deadly barrage struck, tearing the body to pieces.
And then Malevolence could see no more. He could hear no more, nor could he move. He was once again simply bound to a pile of metal. He was vaguely aware when the Armor was removed from the remains of the body and attempts were made to destroy it. All pointless, of course. Malevolence knew the spell they cast, which was extra cruel. If ever the Armor was destroyed, he would not be freed of it. He would die. And death was something he refused.
The next thing he knew, he was alone, completely. There was no one within any sort of sensing range for him. He found himself eventually wishing and longing for someone to discover him, just so he could truly feel again. To think, see, taste, touch, smell, hear. To move. Anything besides this constant darkness.
He at one point recalled the absolute terror the sorcerer had felt just before death. He had known the man's every emotion, his indignation and dread. He found he didn't really want to make the one who gave him liberty to feel that way.
Somewhere along the line, the thought crossed his mind that he could offer something to the one who wore the Armor. He could make them more powerful, and offer to protect them when they needed to simply retreat from the world. He could offer them rest in their own mind. It was the perfect exchange for his freedom, his mobility.
Symbiosis. That was what it would be.
And so the years when by without his real knowledge of the passing time.
I like; it is different from anything you've done before.
