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Careful, lest we be burned by those we love, like moths to a flame.
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The Dark Wolf
My flame, my love, my one and only.
29 years old
Gender Not Set
Guess.
Born June-13-1989
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to know me fully, you must meet me, i dont make the same impression otherwise.
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Former Identities: The Dark Wolf, Dragonborn of Bahamut, Red XIII, Dragonlord, Lyre, Champloo, Mugan, Jin
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Joined: 31-August 06
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The Dark Wolf

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23 May 2012
Name: Alyson (Ali)
Age: 21
Homecountry: Frostrun Heights (Northern Territories)
Gender: Female
Height: 5'8"
Build: Athletic

Class: Lancer
Level: 7

Weapons:Steel Rhomphaia (Blade = Shaft), Steel Greatlance. Short Spear, Knife
Weapon Levels: Lance {D - 2/4}

Summary: To everyone that Ali has met recently, the common conception they have about her that she is very distant. And anyone that has pressed that by trying either to hit on her or just see what she was about has come off worse for their effort; usually from a fist connecting to some part of them. That's not to say she's a total social outcast; she has, in the past, found friends and been open to others. She just finds less necessity for people right now. Especially the self obsessed, self righteous, and the blatantly ignorant.

Having everyone she's ever loved taken from her has left a deep wound she has no interest in reopening. This has made her very self reliant, as well as cold and distant, more out of necessity then desire. She believes that, given the chance, the world will take everyone and everything you care for without so much as a second thought. This view and her losses have twisted her emotionally, leaving her as cold as she is viewed; for the most part anyway.

She doesn't care for large groups of people (for the jumble of reasons listed above), but she also doesn't like being left alone with her thoughts. They tend to always take her back to a happier time, which never fails to make her sad and/or angry. Her favorite times are those spent training herself. It is those times that she can lose herself completely to her lance and fists. The only other time she finds the same level of piece is during a stout night of drinking, and at this point she could drink even the most hardened sailors under the table. Thought she hates herself when she drinks like that, especially the morning after. But, changing would require the kind of self examination and determination she simply doesn't want to put forth.

Her fighting style generally consists of fighting with her lance and a shield of some variety. The current shield (buckler) is best in close quarters fighting, leaving a bit of an opening for archers. She has also been known to throw in what could be considered a type of kickboxing, martial arts, or some such. She'll throw in a punch and a kick here and there if she can. And she can hold her own in a fist fight; she not afraid of, or above, fighting dirty.

Appearance: Ali is a girl of slightly above average height, and roughly average weight. She has a pleasing figure, and her skin color is mostly light with a bit of darkening on her face, as this is the only part of her that is regularly exposed to sunlight besides parts of her hair.

Ali's hair is a little unusual; just a little though. It's cut short at the back and gets progressively longer nearer the face (Kinda like one of these '<' shapes). At the back of her head it comes part way down her neck and reaches her collar bones at the front. Her hair is kind of thick, but is stick-straight. Not that anyone really knows; only the ends of the front half of her hair stick out of the helm, and the sun has 'bleached' them a dark shade of red, along with other pieces of her hair that are outside her helm. Her eyes are a deep shade of sapphire and when you look into them, they seem about as hard and expressionless as their gemstone counterpart. Her face itself has very pleasing features and lines.

For the most part, Ali's clothing is visible around her armor; bits and pieces being easier to see when the armor is off. Her typical shirt of choice is a dark, navy blue shirt that has the sleeves ripped off at the shoulder, over which she wears a very dark grey, low cut, three button vest; black buttons. The vest is trimmed in a soft red and light grey fur which goes around the front of the arms that circles around behind her neck. She also wears a pair of semi-tight pants that are the same color as the vest; they are tucked into her boots, which are black and lined inside with the same red and light grey fur. She wears a pair of black gloves that stretch half way up her bicep, and the end is lined with the same red and light grey fur. The boots and gloves are reinforced in Mithril; on the top of the boots and on the back of the hand and between the knuckle and the first bend of the finger on the gloves. They are like scales and bend easily enough to not inhibit motion.

Over her clothing she also wears a breast plate, shoulder guards, a pair of bracers and a pair of grieves. All of her armor, including the Mithril on her hands and feet, are colored black with a crimson lining. She also wears a helm, same coloration, and carries a buckler. The buckler is approximately 18" across and strapped to her arm instead of being held; this is because she occasionally still needs a second hand to steady her lance in a fight. The buckler is made of a dark wood with black metal bands reinforcing it. It is the only piece of her armor that has no crimson.

Bio: Alyson was born in the Northern Territories in the port city of Yngvildr. She was the second child in the family, her older brother, Chris, being twelve years her senior, and her parents were overjoyed with the addition. They made a decent living, had a comfortable home, and Ali's younger years were spent very happily. Or at least, she thinks they were; her memory before age six got a bit hazy in light of what happened.

When she was about six, her parents left in the morning as they often did, but when her mother was supposed to return, she didn't. Her father didn't return home for a long while either, but just before Ali was to go to sleep, he came home; his eyes were red and swollen, tears were streaming down his face. He took a seat and when Chris, who was now eighteen, asked him about it, he only replied by openly sobbing that she was gone. Chris saw Ali near by and left their father to hurry her to bed. She was young, too young for that kind of pain he believed.

Her father, who was not a small man by any means and had never been sick in all of Alyson's life, didn't get out of the bed for the next few days; Chris sent for a doctor, but they could find nothing wrong with him. But never the less, over the next few weeks, their father slowly got worse and worse until one morning Chris went to check on him and Chris said he had passed. Ali was young, and easily distracted from the crushing loss of her parents. She wouldn't find out for years what it was that had taken both her parents from her.

Her brother, whom had long since had a job on a fishing vessel, took over raising her from there. And, while it wasn't how it had been, it was still wonderful as far as Ali was concerned. She loved her brother very much.

Around when Ali was eight, she'd begun to have some trouble with a little boy bother her and a couple of her friends. Her brother thought he could easily deal with this himself, but that it would be better for her to deal with it. He taught her a little bit about fighting; the best places to punch, the best way he had found to throw a punch, some grappling, and some good kicking moves. And the next time he bothered her, she came home with a black eye and a smile. Her brother asked about it, and she told him how she'd won the fight. He was proud, almost encouraging her to fight more by saying she'd get better with practice.

And practice she did, before she was nine she'd gotten into another twenty fights, deserved or not. She lost some of them, but came off the better more often. Around the age of ten, Chris got her a small job helping out with the fishing vessel he worked for to help teach her some responsibility. And it did; some what. It also got her into a few more fights with some of the young boys on the docks. She came of the better in all but one. The one she lost was the one she fled because he pulled a weapon on her and she ran.

The night that happened, she asked her brother to teach her about combat, not just fighting. He'd dabbled a little in lances when he was younger, so he began to teach her what he knew. Turns out, this was going to be a slow process, since much of what she already knew about fighting didn't help her when a lance was added to the mix.

It took her three years to get to a comfortable enough point to add a shield. Her brother encouraged a shield for added protection, but all she was really comfortable with was a small, solid wood shield (a buckler about a third the size and weight as the one she uses now). She started to carry that lance and shield with her everywhere; and from that point, she never ran away from a fight again.

About three years later, Ali had worked her way onto a different fishing vessel then her brother, and making a fair wage for it. They both had grown very comfortable with the life they had grown into, and would always share a meal at the end of the day to swap stories. Not just about that day, but about anything.
But this night was different. Ali was telling him about something that had happened on the boat that day, and he looked very far away; like he was thinking of something else. And then, to add to the unusualness of the evening, he brought up their parents. He asked Ali what she remembered of them, and she said what little he remembered; her mother was brilliant and lovely, her father strong and kind, and that they had passed on when she was young so there wasn't much else. She asked him to tell her something about them, since he was much older when they passed.

Tears rolled down his eyes as he told her that she was right about what she remembered. And to always remember that, but it was time she knew something important. And with that, he told her the story of what had killed their parents. Apparently, her mother had been attempting to dominate a new monster for use in Yngvildr, and that the restraints had broken. She was killed before the monster could be subdued. This had broken their father, and the day after Chris had a doctor check him for illnesses, he found him hanging from the rafters in his room.

Ali was in shock. She'd always suspected something was wrong with the story she was told about mother, but she never thought her father had killed himself. She questioned Chris, asking about the weeks afterward where he would regularly check on their father, and he merely said that he let her believe an illness was killing him to ease the pain. In that moment, something inside Ali shattered, and tears came gushing out; the first tears she'd cried since she was young. She cried for two days following that.

A week later, her brother's fishing ship was attacked by demons; he was killed in the struggle and the ship was destroyed. A part of Ali died the day she heard that news, and the rest of her heard hardened to ice. Life was cruel, and she wouldn't let it keep hurting her like this.

And with no more ties to Yngvildr, she packed up what she could carry and left. She would put Yngvildr, and all those memories, as far behind her as she could. Her travels took her all the way across the Northern Territories to The Wilds that bordered its west side. She took odd jobs on the way to keep herself alive, but nothing big. A tavern in the wilds was the first place she found solid mercenary work. She didn't go there searching for it, but it found her just the same.

She spent five or so years working as a sell-sword, honing her skill with a lance, and gaining additional practice with her shield due to the nature of her fighting style. As time drug on, her shield got progressively bigger, and so did her wanderlust. She couldn't stay in The Wilds any more; it had grown too mundane and boring to her. It had also done nothing to slake her anger and sadness, but she wasn't even aware herself that's why she was so bored, no matter what she did.

In the end, she left The Wilds and traveled to Araducia. But this time, the call to leave only allowed her to stay there for about a year doing mercenary work before she could ignore it no longer. And with that, she took off down the road again, never sure where her wandering feet would take her.

Currently:

Dancing in the Dark - In progress
Into the Wind! - In progress.

Additional Notes/Comments:
20 May 2012
So, every time I come back, something has changed and that requires me to ask a question or two.

My main question involves the new laguz. Are they actually implemented, or just introduced and not yet available for play? I only ask because they're in the announcement thread, but there's no mention of them in the classes section. At least, not that I found. I checked under everything to be sure, but I didn't find them or any more information beyond what's in the announcement. And, to be honest I would like some; being a spider, wolf or stone bird sounds fantastic. Especially spider or bird. I've been a wolf on RL, all those many decades ago... And on that line, will they be given "strike" weapon levels, or will they only have weapon levels if they have abilities like staffs and bardic music (as hawks and wolves seem to have based on descriptors)? And would a slightly improved description of stone hawks be floating around? Less smashed faced gargoyles leaves something to be desired in my mind...

My other question involves the new system being discussed. I tend to be slow in profile writing, and if it's a near release that will change the system greatly, then waiting seems the better option for me, otherwise I'd start a profile here shortly. The question seems a little silly to me asking, but it does impact, you know?

Lastly, the whole 'write a profile, pick a level 10 or below and we'll tell you if that works for the profile' thing is still where profile writing it ya?

Thanks to whomever answers.
12 Aug 2011
Erika has heard rumors, during her time in the wilds, about a small village in the woods that's missing children. Due to the size and relative seclusion of the village, no one has done anything to help them, either because they don't think it's worth it or they don't believe the children are truly missing; they just ran off. And, as a relatively poor village, they can't exactly afford mercenaries.

Erika, being the kind hearted soul that she is, has been looking into this; and she believes there's something to it. She decided to put up all the money she has, mixed with all the money the village could spare, and hire some people to help. She's posted information in neighboring towns, cities and villages, hoping for as much help as possible.

------

So... Erika needs help. I reserve the right to not accept you for any reason, though it's not incredibly likely... As well, if you disrupt my topic or do something I don't approve of in my topic, I reserve the right to eject you after it's started... Et cetera, fine print, blah blah blah.

I intend to post at least once a week, if not every few days; unless everyone posts in quick enough fashion to warrant sooner posts. Though, it's likely I'll wait longer for a good reason... Or maybe no reason depending on my own muse.

Anyway, Anyone interested? I likely won't be accepting more then a couple people beyond Erika, as a side note.

If you are interested but would like some additional information, feel free to ask or PM me or whatever...

1. Erika Lirit (Myself)
2. Emily Gail Level 1 thief (TheNoun)
3. Red Antelope Wading the Sea Level 10 Mage (Sui-kun)
4.
4 Apr 2011
So, most of you probably don't know this about me, but my mind is often working on building characters for any system I have knowledge of; be it RL, Sky, or the table top games I know. And because of that, I was thinking of beginning to work on a third RL character, even though I don't yet qualify. It's just apart of my crazy.

Now, The question I wish to present is possibly a complex one, and has a bit of a story behind it:

I've previously worked on a fallen red dragon fighter/berserker, but a mod didn't agree with the premise that a laguz, raised in daein to hate itself and everything it is, would fall at it's first chance. But, that's only the story behind it. I've got a slightly modified idea, that requires a question or maybe two; What's the ruling on a non-fallen laguz using beorc weapons, but refusing to use its laguz form? Also, since that's likely not even close to an option, is there a way to forcibly suppress the laguz power, beyond falling, perhaps not permanently, but definitely long enough?

Thanks again for any answers given.

Also, while I have you, I'd like very much if someone could tell me if I've built this to work like I say it does:

Spear idea: Click Here To Show/Hide This Text
"Spear Name" {D} - (Spear) Mithril +2, Inaccurate -1, Random -1, Exotic (Chained) +2, Dual Heads +1
Skye recently fought a man wielding this lance against her in combat. She was intrigued by how he fought with it, and had to have it. The spear is dual tipped, and Mithril, but the part that caught Skye's attention was that it's a three section pole, held together by chains. It's both effective as a whole lance, and can be made to separate into three parts, and the outer two parts may be thrown and retrieved via the chain, though the range is short, only a couple feet. Skye has only just begun practicing with this weapon, and that makes it both inaccurate and less effective at dealing damage.
22 Mar 2011
Skye sat at the table in the small back room of the tavern only just half awake. It was nearly the middle of the night, and she had absolutely not idea why someone would need to meet mercenaries in in the back of a tavern at this hour. Skye slumped forward on the table, her braid falling off to her left side; I'll just rest my eyes for a second... she thought as she let her head rest on her folded arms, she was early after all. She was also alone in the room, and all her possessions were with Midnight, so she didn't have to worry about anything happening to her or her possessions while she rested. It didn't take long before she was out cold. It was a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

But it was also short lived. To her, no sooner had she fallen asleep then the door opened and someone came in. Someone loud. She lifted up her head and saw a rather large man covered in heavy looking, white armor. He also had a large sword on his back. All in all, he was a very intimidating looking man. Skye sat up slowly, almost grudgingly.

"You here about the job too?" Skye asked. "It would seem we're still a little early. My name's Skye."

OOC: Click Here To Show/Hide This Text
Yeah... It's not my best work, but it's all I had. I feel really rusty right now...

And I hope his entrance was okay with you Andy. You know how to find me if it isn't.

Also: Takes place Mid Winter of 748.
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Kilvaer
You owe me money |:C
*breaks both your legs*
23 Jul 2009 - 11:49
Chef Brian
I'd say around Mayish.
11 Sep 2007 - 23:14
Someone
Dude... when did you come back? O_O
4 May 2007 - 0:03

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