Post by Angelulyss on Jan 3, 2008 18:50:34 GMT -5
Name: Alaric Eismagie (ice-mah-g-ah) "Eis, Alar, Al"
Age:
412
Species:
Shape shifter (Pheonix)/Ice Demon
Gender:
Male
Region:
Anywhere
Position:
Kint
Element:
Ice
Weapons:
Claws & Beak
Silver gauntlets, studded with saphire stones that allow him to 'form' ice from no where, and his faithful sword "Ice Fire".
Description:
His Animal Form:
Human Form:
He has the phrase "Beyond Dead" tattooed across his knuckles prison style, and a few others on his arms and chest. They are more like trible tattoos and hold no real signifigance to anyone other than him. . .
Personality:
Alaric likes the peace and quiet of the night and tends to be found outside with his eyes closed. He is serious and keeps a watchful eye on Ralja. He is extremely loyal and a good ally to have on any journey. Many people have lived longer than him, true, but he's lived a life longer than his years, and it's scared him in all ways, physically, mentally, and emotionally. A long time ago, he had very little active emotion within him, making him just that more dangerous.
History:
Long ago Alaric was a very different person than now; a kind and friendly person dedicated to protecting his family and friends. He was descended from a line of knights, and as such bore his family crest and colors with pride. He served both his family and and town, till one fateful event.
The head of his family, his great-uncle Anlath came to him bearing bad news: the town had turned on them, and mobilized against them! Alaric could barely believe his ears, but understood his duty and suited up and headed out to meet the enemy. There were only a few knights against many from the town, but the townspeople sent were unskilled and were quickly slain. Alaric had killed before when necessary, but never until then had it bothered him so.
Later, after the attackers had been defeated and the town occupied, Alder paced the halls, trying to rationalize the necessity of what happened with himself, when he heard chatting from behind a door. His curiosity overcoming him, he leaned in and listened. Two voices were discussing some kind of plan involving the town. After they left using another entrance, Alder slipped in and looked about. Upon the table were plans and diagrams, and a contract. He read the contract, and dropped it before even finishing it. The knights had started it.
They had previously sent men to attack innocent villagers, and when the village retaliated, they crushed them. After cleaning out the village, they were going to sell the land to a group of corrupt merchants for a healthy sum. Alaric backed away from the table as if it were diseased, and suddenly his great-uncle and a merchant representative stepped into the room. Without a word, Anlath leaped at him, sword drawn. Alaric parried the blow with an armored glove and decked Anlath, sending him crashing through the table. Without a moment's delay, he drew his sword and drove it into his great-uncle's chest hard enough to sink the blade into the floor. The little merchant bolted from the room, screaming of murder, and men quickly came to the room.
When the first attacked, Alaric met the man's blade with a surge of rage and threw him back. Fe felt the anger coursing through him, filling him with strength and heat. it reached his hands, and flame erupted from them, spiraling up his sword. He sliced through the other men like butter, and ran out into the hall. The rest became an absolute blur to him, and when he came to his senses, the area was drenched in blood and scorches, and bodies were everywhere. He dropped his sword, fell to his knees, and screamed, expressing all his sorrow, anger, and pain.
He had killed everyone.
Stripping himself of the knight's armor and sword, he gathered a plain sword, armor, and provisions, and left.
While walking through a city, he was attacked by a group of mysterious warriors. He fought, and was winning until they started using strange powers, reminiscent of his own. He was almost killed, but he felt the anger surge in him again, and flames burst out from him. A woman stepped out of the darkness, clapping.
She introduced herself as an assassin, and told Alaric she could help him gain some control of his powers. Alaric agreed.
Taking a new name, Alaric quickly rose among the ranks. He was used to take out entire organizations, and was one of the best...and most notorious. Rumors and tales spread of a man who wasn't a man, a man who was a living storm, blowing through in a flurry of blade and fire, leaving few or none alive. He does his job and leaves, just to go to the next.
Later on he decided to settle down and abandon his harsh rogue ways. Shifting to a phoenix he flew to the ice kingdom to earn a Knight's title. He met Ralja, sobing and alone. Emotions that had been dormant for years moved his stone heart. . . Deciding it be best she thought he was merely a magical beast. He hid his identity from her
Other:
Age:
412
Species:
Shape shifter (Pheonix)/Ice Demon
Gender:
Male
Region:
Anywhere
Position:
Kint
Element:
Ice
Weapons:
Claws & Beak
Silver gauntlets, studded with saphire stones that allow him to 'form' ice from no where, and his faithful sword "Ice Fire".
Description:
His Animal Form:
Human Form:
He has the phrase "Beyond Dead" tattooed across his knuckles prison style, and a few others on his arms and chest. They are more like trible tattoos and hold no real signifigance to anyone other than him. . .
Personality:
Alaric likes the peace and quiet of the night and tends to be found outside with his eyes closed. He is serious and keeps a watchful eye on Ralja. He is extremely loyal and a good ally to have on any journey. Many people have lived longer than him, true, but he's lived a life longer than his years, and it's scared him in all ways, physically, mentally, and emotionally. A long time ago, he had very little active emotion within him, making him just that more dangerous.
History:
Long ago Alaric was a very different person than now; a kind and friendly person dedicated to protecting his family and friends. He was descended from a line of knights, and as such bore his family crest and colors with pride. He served both his family and and town, till one fateful event.
The head of his family, his great-uncle Anlath came to him bearing bad news: the town had turned on them, and mobilized against them! Alaric could barely believe his ears, but understood his duty and suited up and headed out to meet the enemy. There were only a few knights against many from the town, but the townspeople sent were unskilled and were quickly slain. Alaric had killed before when necessary, but never until then had it bothered him so.
Later, after the attackers had been defeated and the town occupied, Alder paced the halls, trying to rationalize the necessity of what happened with himself, when he heard chatting from behind a door. His curiosity overcoming him, he leaned in and listened. Two voices were discussing some kind of plan involving the town. After they left using another entrance, Alder slipped in and looked about. Upon the table were plans and diagrams, and a contract. He read the contract, and dropped it before even finishing it. The knights had started it.
They had previously sent men to attack innocent villagers, and when the village retaliated, they crushed them. After cleaning out the village, they were going to sell the land to a group of corrupt merchants for a healthy sum. Alaric backed away from the table as if it were diseased, and suddenly his great-uncle and a merchant representative stepped into the room. Without a word, Anlath leaped at him, sword drawn. Alaric parried the blow with an armored glove and decked Anlath, sending him crashing through the table. Without a moment's delay, he drew his sword and drove it into his great-uncle's chest hard enough to sink the blade into the floor. The little merchant bolted from the room, screaming of murder, and men quickly came to the room.
When the first attacked, Alaric met the man's blade with a surge of rage and threw him back. Fe felt the anger coursing through him, filling him with strength and heat. it reached his hands, and flame erupted from them, spiraling up his sword. He sliced through the other men like butter, and ran out into the hall. The rest became an absolute blur to him, and when he came to his senses, the area was drenched in blood and scorches, and bodies were everywhere. He dropped his sword, fell to his knees, and screamed, expressing all his sorrow, anger, and pain.
He had killed everyone.
Stripping himself of the knight's armor and sword, he gathered a plain sword, armor, and provisions, and left.
While walking through a city, he was attacked by a group of mysterious warriors. He fought, and was winning until they started using strange powers, reminiscent of his own. He was almost killed, but he felt the anger surge in him again, and flames burst out from him. A woman stepped out of the darkness, clapping.
She introduced herself as an assassin, and told Alaric she could help him gain some control of his powers. Alaric agreed.
Taking a new name, Alaric quickly rose among the ranks. He was used to take out entire organizations, and was one of the best...and most notorious. Rumors and tales spread of a man who wasn't a man, a man who was a living storm, blowing through in a flurry of blade and fire, leaving few or none alive. He does his job and leaves, just to go to the next.
Later on he decided to settle down and abandon his harsh rogue ways. Shifting to a phoenix he flew to the ice kingdom to earn a Knight's title. He met Ralja, sobing and alone. Emotions that had been dormant for years moved his stone heart. . . Deciding it be best she thought he was merely a magical beast. He hid his identity from her
Other: