Post by ashtheking on Jul 15, 2011 10:03:39 GMT -5
I'm doing this as an example and so that people get a general gist of what TJRP 2.0's background story is.
IGN: Ashtheking
Recommended by: Moogleman09, Ozzatron, Ersake
IC Name: Arkantos
Race: Ancients
Job (If Applicable for Selected Race): Leader
Character Bio:
Arkantos' Recollection of Du Kybervarg:
My name is Arkantos. Current leader of our race. One of the last survivors of the great battle of Vargai. I'm an Ancient. A master of the art of magic. Able to shape and change the very fabric of space. Our secret art. The very thing we were persecuted for. The Battle of Vargai was a battle that decided the fate of the most powerful magic users since the dawn of time.
It was a 100 year war. Long, for many of the younger races. Not as much so for us immortals. We rarely see someone die from the tests of time. But it felt long, those 100 years. We are a peaceful race, rarely using our great magic for damage. We value life too much. But in that war, we did.
We were attacked by a race known as the Varg, similar to the wolves that are spotted in the tundra and forests. But much larger. The Varg were as large as us, with claws as long as a tree, and monstrous jaws, large enough to eat a pig whole. They are also shapeshifters, able to turn into a form that looks like a human, keeping only the eyes. They are a sentient race, proud, and powerful. They abhor magic of any kind, as they believe it is only for the gods.
Striking on the night of Durmasti, the night of Rejoice, they caught us unaware. Durmasti is a time for celebration, for entertaining each other with displays of magic. They attacked during the darkest of the night, killing 12 of the greatest Warpers of our race. We retaliated, but it was too late. Many battles were fought, and the younger races cowered in the war. They knew it as the "War of Storms," as storm magic was popular in our battle squadrons.
Unfortunately, the Varg's hides were extremely thick, resistant to lightning and fireball spells. Their spellcasters were most adept at hiding themselves, as it turned out. We lost many a warrior to an invisible Varg who snuck behind our lines. I myself was wounded when one of those evil wolfkin stabbed me. I ripped his spacial weaves apart, cursing him. We are not warriors, as i have stated before. We do not know much about the art of war. But by attacking us, the Varg provoked us into the first war we have fought since this land's creation. We asked our allies among the young races, who were proficient in the nasty arts of war, to help us. They taught us what they could about this grisly and deadly art.
And as such, we unleashed a devastating blow against those evil wolfkin. We ravaged many of their camps and towns. But they kept going, no matter how many of them we killed. Our allies told us the best way to stop them was to attack their city, Vargai. There dwelt their leader, and their religious temples. We then laid siege to the city. It was a terrible battle. We forced the gates open and rushed into the city. Many of us used the blade and bow, as most magic was useless against these foes. We had a few groups of Warpers and Weavers, however. I was one of them. Every Ancient alive joined us for this final battle against the Varg.
I remember it. The sky had turned red, and you couldn't see the ground or the grass without seeing the dark red of blood and the ugly sight of dead bodies, Ancient and Varg alike. I had just burnt a home with a flash of fire magic, leaving the wolfkin inside trapped, howling for aid. One particularly large wolf jumped me, looking all to the world like a moving shadow. I forgot to mention, though resembling the white and gray wolves, the Varg are primarily as black as night. I duck and pull out my dagger. The wolfkin snarled and jumped under me, just as i jumped, exposing it's underside to try and slash me. I threw my dagger right on target, flipping around as the Varg screeched. I duck as 3 of my kinsmen are thrown at me. I see this extremely large wolf, white as night. As I reach for another dagger, it changes back. I gasp as i recognize it. It's the leader of the race. He fires a bolt of magic at every ancient near him, including me. Our leader, the brave Kastor, starts fighting him. I turn and battle the other wolfkin nearby.
At the end of the battle, every single Varg in the city was dead. That was most of the population. Unfortunately, so was most of the Ancients. There was a mere 100 left, from the thousands that once roamed this land. Many died from their wounds later, we were to learn. We swore an oath after the battle, us 100, that we would go and destroy every Varg remaining in the land. Our tracking spells helped us, as did the younger races. I was chosen to be our leader, for my courageous actions in the war, such as defeating an entire battalion of wolfkin singlehandedly, but also for my nicer qualities. I was given the title "Lord of the Elements", and preformed the rituals of leadership, ensuring that I was the rightful leader. All swore oaths to obey me.
I never wanted this, but fate has a funny way of giving you what you least expect. I started on the creation of a new capital, a place unreachable by normal means, as a safe haven for us. Our magic had greatly diminished. Our powers are stronger when we are more. With the great battle, we lost so many, from our greatest Warpers to our most honored Scholars. We lost many of our offensive spells, as our battlemages all died that horrid day, which became known as Du Kybervarg, the Varg Death. We honor their sacrifice every year, simultaneously rejoicing the death of the Varg, while honoring the sacrifice of our kin. It's a day of exquisite celebration and magic, as well as a night of sorrow and drinking.
Tiamvol, Canir, xa Du Nexar Draca
Rain, Blood, and The Hidden Blade
--Arkantos' Attack during Du Kybervarg
The Battle of Vargai was long and bloody. 4 days did we siege the foul city. Kastor met with the Council of War Generals, which I was part of. Kastor decided to send Scud to lead the attack on the high ground, while he decided to lead the strike force to attack from behind. I was chosen to lead the main army attacking the fabled Gates of Vargai. We marched across the Plains of Kybri, with archers and mages at the ready. We set up camp just outside the range of the Varg's Archers, them being the greatest archers known to the land. The next morning, both forces began their attack. Our archers took aim, and with my command, fired. Me and the other mages enchanted arrows, imbibing summoning enchantments, fireball magic, explosive warps and freeze spells into the heads of the arrows. The Varg reacted almost immediately, and in a testament to their skill, started shooting the arrows out of the air. Many of the explosive ones blew up in mid air, the magic prematurely activated. Others had their magic dispelled and fell to the ground.
Yet, despite the extreme archery of the Varg, some still met their target. Fires and patches of ice erupted into being in multiple sections of the great wall. Creepers and the undead were formed from nothing in yet other sections, and many fell dead to their monsterous attacks. These beasts disgusted many of us, for those monsters are evil, but in war, we do what we must (BECAUSE WE CAN.) Their commander gave the order to return fire, and so they did. I ordered our mages to start the shield. We raised our hands, and so was formed a powerful shield, strong enough to stop even the strongest of mortal attacks. Just in time, as the sky rained with arrows, and TNT. Many of the arrows bounced off the shield, and the TNT exploded on it. But, sadly, I felt a mind falter, and one of our weaker warpers fainted from the pressure of the shield. His section of the shield failed, the Varg picked up on it instantly. TNT and rained down, every archer concentrating on the gap in our line. I sent more energy into the mind-link, but it was too late. By the time we closed that gap, the missiles had found their target. I ducked as my kinsmen were torn apart by the shear destructive power of TNT. I ordered our Draci to commence the attack, and so they did. 10,000 of our best warriors rushed the gates, as our Skalas provided cover fire. Our battle mages were spread throughout the army, for maximum protection and offensive powers. We sent our energy to the mages at the front of the Draci column, and they tore down the wall with shear energy. I yelled "Kyber Kuni Du VARG!" Death to the Varg. And so it commenced.
We blasted and stormed our way through, using the hole our battlemages created, not minding for our own safety, caught up in the heat of battle. We broke off into small groups to maximize the amount of damage we could deal to the wolfkin, the ezrai. I led about 5 or 6 men up the rubble of the gate, scaling the near vertical face using magic. Amongst them was my longtime friend, my faier, Ajax. He and I jumped the crude barracide the archers had hastily constructed, and whipped out our swords. Realizing that their bows would be useless at close range, the wolfkin archers morphed into beast form. And so it started, claw against blade, fang against dagger. I tusseled with the foul ezrai for what seemed like an hour, none of us giving up. Ajax and the others did the same. I saw an opening finally as the wolfkin twisted to dodge my strike. I lifted a foot and kicked it, sending it into my comrades opponent. He raised his falchion and stabbed both of them in one move, killing them instantly. I mutter a curse and use their dying energy to heal myself, a practice discourged by the council normally, but nesscessary in war. I toss my blade at one Varg as he duels with Freya, our healer and greatest warriror, which is strange unless you think about it. She grins, but then it falters as she notices something. I round about, intime to see a corps of archers take aim at us. I send a burst of wind, knocking my friends to the ground, but it's too late. Ajax falls to the ground, mortally wounded. I feel his wound as if it were mine, due to the mind-link our squad shared. I closed off that flow of pain and kneel, oblivous to the fighting around me. "Ajax. ki blari vi volum jolas mal," I say, and quickly preform the rites of death, sprinkling water over his face, and sending his energy into the plants and non-sentient animals around us.
I then grab his sword and rush into battle. I jump over one snarling Varg, tossing a dagger into it's skull as I do, and roll under another, slicing it open. One fiend jumps, but I and raise my blade to cut his chest open. He howls and bleeds to death. I don't stay for long, as I rush off. We dueled these wolfkin for 4 days, retreating during the night, as is the custom. We finally got past the shear number of Varg guarding the city, and gain ground. The last day, Kastor's force attacking from the otherside meets up with Scud, the only survivor of his forces and my forces, and we join together. The final day was the bloodiest by all accounts.
IGN: Ashtheking
Recommended by: Moogleman09, Ozzatron, Ersake
IC Name: Arkantos
Race: Ancients
Job (If Applicable for Selected Race): Leader
Character Bio:
Arkantos' Recollection of Du Kybervarg:
My name is Arkantos. Current leader of our race. One of the last survivors of the great battle of Vargai. I'm an Ancient. A master of the art of magic. Able to shape and change the very fabric of space. Our secret art. The very thing we were persecuted for. The Battle of Vargai was a battle that decided the fate of the most powerful magic users since the dawn of time.
It was a 100 year war. Long, for many of the younger races. Not as much so for us immortals. We rarely see someone die from the tests of time. But it felt long, those 100 years. We are a peaceful race, rarely using our great magic for damage. We value life too much. But in that war, we did.
We were attacked by a race known as the Varg, similar to the wolves that are spotted in the tundra and forests. But much larger. The Varg were as large as us, with claws as long as a tree, and monstrous jaws, large enough to eat a pig whole. They are also shapeshifters, able to turn into a form that looks like a human, keeping only the eyes. They are a sentient race, proud, and powerful. They abhor magic of any kind, as they believe it is only for the gods.
Striking on the night of Durmasti, the night of Rejoice, they caught us unaware. Durmasti is a time for celebration, for entertaining each other with displays of magic. They attacked during the darkest of the night, killing 12 of the greatest Warpers of our race. We retaliated, but it was too late. Many battles were fought, and the younger races cowered in the war. They knew it as the "War of Storms," as storm magic was popular in our battle squadrons.
Unfortunately, the Varg's hides were extremely thick, resistant to lightning and fireball spells. Their spellcasters were most adept at hiding themselves, as it turned out. We lost many a warrior to an invisible Varg who snuck behind our lines. I myself was wounded when one of those evil wolfkin stabbed me. I ripped his spacial weaves apart, cursing him. We are not warriors, as i have stated before. We do not know much about the art of war. But by attacking us, the Varg provoked us into the first war we have fought since this land's creation. We asked our allies among the young races, who were proficient in the nasty arts of war, to help us. They taught us what they could about this grisly and deadly art.
And as such, we unleashed a devastating blow against those evil wolfkin. We ravaged many of their camps and towns. But they kept going, no matter how many of them we killed. Our allies told us the best way to stop them was to attack their city, Vargai. There dwelt their leader, and their religious temples. We then laid siege to the city. It was a terrible battle. We forced the gates open and rushed into the city. Many of us used the blade and bow, as most magic was useless against these foes. We had a few groups of Warpers and Weavers, however. I was one of them. Every Ancient alive joined us for this final battle against the Varg.
I remember it. The sky had turned red, and you couldn't see the ground or the grass without seeing the dark red of blood and the ugly sight of dead bodies, Ancient and Varg alike. I had just burnt a home with a flash of fire magic, leaving the wolfkin inside trapped, howling for aid. One particularly large wolf jumped me, looking all to the world like a moving shadow. I forgot to mention, though resembling the white and gray wolves, the Varg are primarily as black as night. I duck and pull out my dagger. The wolfkin snarled and jumped under me, just as i jumped, exposing it's underside to try and slash me. I threw my dagger right on target, flipping around as the Varg screeched. I duck as 3 of my kinsmen are thrown at me. I see this extremely large wolf, white as night. As I reach for another dagger, it changes back. I gasp as i recognize it. It's the leader of the race. He fires a bolt of magic at every ancient near him, including me. Our leader, the brave Kastor, starts fighting him. I turn and battle the other wolfkin nearby.
At the end of the battle, every single Varg in the city was dead. That was most of the population. Unfortunately, so was most of the Ancients. There was a mere 100 left, from the thousands that once roamed this land. Many died from their wounds later, we were to learn. We swore an oath after the battle, us 100, that we would go and destroy every Varg remaining in the land. Our tracking spells helped us, as did the younger races. I was chosen to be our leader, for my courageous actions in the war, such as defeating an entire battalion of wolfkin singlehandedly, but also for my nicer qualities. I was given the title "Lord of the Elements", and preformed the rituals of leadership, ensuring that I was the rightful leader. All swore oaths to obey me.
I never wanted this, but fate has a funny way of giving you what you least expect. I started on the creation of a new capital, a place unreachable by normal means, as a safe haven for us. Our magic had greatly diminished. Our powers are stronger when we are more. With the great battle, we lost so many, from our greatest Warpers to our most honored Scholars. We lost many of our offensive spells, as our battlemages all died that horrid day, which became known as Du Kybervarg, the Varg Death. We honor their sacrifice every year, simultaneously rejoicing the death of the Varg, while honoring the sacrifice of our kin. It's a day of exquisite celebration and magic, as well as a night of sorrow and drinking.
Tiamvol, Canir, xa Du Nexar Draca
Rain, Blood, and The Hidden Blade
--Arkantos' Attack during Du Kybervarg
The Battle of Vargai was long and bloody. 4 days did we siege the foul city. Kastor met with the Council of War Generals, which I was part of. Kastor decided to send Scud to lead the attack on the high ground, while he decided to lead the strike force to attack from behind. I was chosen to lead the main army attacking the fabled Gates of Vargai. We marched across the Plains of Kybri, with archers and mages at the ready. We set up camp just outside the range of the Varg's Archers, them being the greatest archers known to the land. The next morning, both forces began their attack. Our archers took aim, and with my command, fired. Me and the other mages enchanted arrows, imbibing summoning enchantments, fireball magic, explosive warps and freeze spells into the heads of the arrows. The Varg reacted almost immediately, and in a testament to their skill, started shooting the arrows out of the air. Many of the explosive ones blew up in mid air, the magic prematurely activated. Others had their magic dispelled and fell to the ground.
Yet, despite the extreme archery of the Varg, some still met their target. Fires and patches of ice erupted into being in multiple sections of the great wall. Creepers and the undead were formed from nothing in yet other sections, and many fell dead to their monsterous attacks. These beasts disgusted many of us, for those monsters are evil, but in war, we do what we must (BECAUSE WE CAN.) Their commander gave the order to return fire, and so they did. I ordered our mages to start the shield. We raised our hands, and so was formed a powerful shield, strong enough to stop even the strongest of mortal attacks. Just in time, as the sky rained with arrows, and TNT. Many of the arrows bounced off the shield, and the TNT exploded on it. But, sadly, I felt a mind falter, and one of our weaker warpers fainted from the pressure of the shield. His section of the shield failed, the Varg picked up on it instantly. TNT and rained down, every archer concentrating on the gap in our line. I sent more energy into the mind-link, but it was too late. By the time we closed that gap, the missiles had found their target. I ducked as my kinsmen were torn apart by the shear destructive power of TNT. I ordered our Draci to commence the attack, and so they did. 10,000 of our best warriors rushed the gates, as our Skalas provided cover fire. Our battle mages were spread throughout the army, for maximum protection and offensive powers. We sent our energy to the mages at the front of the Draci column, and they tore down the wall with shear energy. I yelled "Kyber Kuni Du VARG!" Death to the Varg. And so it commenced.
We blasted and stormed our way through, using the hole our battlemages created, not minding for our own safety, caught up in the heat of battle. We broke off into small groups to maximize the amount of damage we could deal to the wolfkin, the ezrai. I led about 5 or 6 men up the rubble of the gate, scaling the near vertical face using magic. Amongst them was my longtime friend, my faier, Ajax. He and I jumped the crude barracide the archers had hastily constructed, and whipped out our swords. Realizing that their bows would be useless at close range, the wolfkin archers morphed into beast form. And so it started, claw against blade, fang against dagger. I tusseled with the foul ezrai for what seemed like an hour, none of us giving up. Ajax and the others did the same. I saw an opening finally as the wolfkin twisted to dodge my strike. I lifted a foot and kicked it, sending it into my comrades opponent. He raised his falchion and stabbed both of them in one move, killing them instantly. I mutter a curse and use their dying energy to heal myself, a practice discourged by the council normally, but nesscessary in war. I toss my blade at one Varg as he duels with Freya, our healer and greatest warriror, which is strange unless you think about it. She grins, but then it falters as she notices something. I round about, intime to see a corps of archers take aim at us. I send a burst of wind, knocking my friends to the ground, but it's too late. Ajax falls to the ground, mortally wounded. I feel his wound as if it were mine, due to the mind-link our squad shared. I closed off that flow of pain and kneel, oblivous to the fighting around me. "Ajax. ki blari vi volum jolas mal," I say, and quickly preform the rites of death, sprinkling water over his face, and sending his energy into the plants and non-sentient animals around us.
I then grab his sword and rush into battle. I jump over one snarling Varg, tossing a dagger into it's skull as I do, and roll under another, slicing it open. One fiend jumps, but I and raise my blade to cut his chest open. He howls and bleeds to death. I don't stay for long, as I rush off. We dueled these wolfkin for 4 days, retreating during the night, as is the custom. We finally got past the shear number of Varg guarding the city, and gain ground. The last day, Kastor's force attacking from the otherside meets up with Scud, the only survivor of his forces and my forces, and we join together. The final day was the bloodiest by all accounts.
